Never Been Loved (17 page)

Maybe, one day, if I play my cards right, she’ll let me run my fingers through that hair and pull her close enough to taste her mouth, taste her tongue, figure out what kind of sounds she makes when I do something she more than likes.

Perverted bastard. Don’t push her to do anything she doesn’t want to. A girl like that, she’s worth waiting decades for.

Christ, I hope it doesn’t take that long.

“Were you staring at my ass?” she asks around her finger, sucking on it and grimacing. Hitting a nerve on the tips of your fingers hurts like a
mother
; my dick shouldn’t be twitching at that, but the image is too much for me to handle.

And she doesn’t even know what she’s doing to me.

Busted. Might as well just spit out the truth. “Unabashedly.”

Her eyebrows drop down low on her face. My lips twitch as she drops her finger from her mouth.“What? Why?”

I don’t know what to say. Is this a game? Has she been talking to Aly? People have always wanted things from me, always. There’s only so much you can give before you run dry and there isn’t enough left in yourself to face the day. I’ve been neglected, left alone to deal with my illness instead of being supported. I entered a toxic ass relationship because, on some sick level in the cracks of my soul, I thought it’s what I deserved.

I lean forward to grab the doorframe of the car, almost caging her in, like a prick-bastard but I can’t seem to stop myself. I catch her eyes pinball to my bicep, to my chest, then back to my face only to rinse and repeat.

She doesn’t get why I would be looking at her, which mean she isn’t in the frame of mind I want her to be in, to think of me as hers. Because fucking right, I want to be. I want to be the one sitting next to her on the leather of my beat-up couch.

I want to be the one watching her face as she experiences the movies with the characters. Hell, when she’s reading a book and something exciting or scary as fuck happens, I want her to toss the brick of a novel down and run into my arms. I want to be her anchor to reality, because I’ve never been that to anybody. I’ve never really been anybody’s anything, not in that way.

And it would be an honour and a privilege to be hers.

“I think about your ass a lot.”
And there goes my fucking mouth again. God, if you’re hearing this, stop laughing. Fix my brain-mouth connection, would ya? I’m trying to get the girl of my dreams to
start
liking me, thanks.

“HUNTER MACLAINE WHERE IS MY GRANDSON?”

Saved by Mom. And the reminder that I have to walk up those bastard stairs and see Eddie again. Endure the begging to visit written all over his face.

I turn to see Matty practically on all fours, climbing each and every step with hands and feet in the mix. I’m irritated and annoyed that he couldn’t just wait so I could pick him up, or that my mother could calm the fuck down long enough so I can actually have a conversation with –

Nails dig into my bicep, and my whole body erupts in shivers, down my back to my heels and toes, and up my neck, tingling along my scalp. Like I’ve been kissed by lightning.

“Your last name is MacLaine?” Sera asks, eyes wide, face split into the most excited of smiles, it coaxes my heart into running sprints with Usain Bolt. Her nails are digging into my skin, both hands wrapped around my arm. I’m electrified with that single point of contact.

All I can do is lift my eyebrows at her in a silent question.

“Is your dad’s name John?” she asks, and with every word, her grip gets tighter. If I wince, I might break the spell. Christ, she starts nibbling her lower lip, breaths coming out fast through her nose as she waits for my answer.

I don’t even want to tell her the truth now, anything to keep her attention on me like I matter.

“No.” I grin, because I don’t know what’s got her so riled up, staring down at where she’s marking a place on my body with her little she-claws. “But I really want it to be if it puts that fire in your eyes.”

“You’re joking me right? You’re last name’s McClane! I’m going to start hyperventilating.” Sera looks like she’s going to start doing back flips, she’s so excited about my last name. I’m not even sure why. But whatever it is, I want her to smile like that every day for the rest of her life.

“Can you wait until after we eat? I’m starving.”
Smooth, bro. Real smooth
. With that I pull back, while my hand traces the inside of her elbow, up her forearm quick enough to snag her hand in mine.

Climbing up these stairs feels less like I’m carrying a jumbo jet on my shoulders, and more like an elephant that’s gone full on glutton. The uneasiness and guilt still does that hollowing out feeling in my gut and queasy things to my stomach, but it’s more bearable this time around.

I hate that Sera notices, too. She can probably feel me tensing up between our joined hands. We make it to the threshold, and I stomp through, ignoring the goosebumps making a home on my skin, or the way the cavernous entryway makes me feel like I’ve been left all alone in a mausoleum.

Mom comes sweeping in, probably after instructing Matty to take off his sneakers so she didn’t have to do it. I used to think my mom was beautiful, and she is – on the outside. But if I look closely, her eyes are icy blue even though they’re the same shade as mine. Her hair is tight and hair-sprayed perfectly flat to her head, not a trace of frizz. The clothes were always immaculately ironed and cleaned, and the material is soft and expensive.

She’s beautiful, yeah, but unreachable, and when you’re eighteen years old—fuck no matter how old you are—and you’ve just found out your life is never going to be the same again, you want your mom to tell you it’s going to be okay, not to look at you like it’s your very own fault.

Like I fucking asked for it
.

“Hunter, what is
she
doing here? What happened to Alysha? Is she on her way? Do tell her to come inside as soon as she arrives, Edouard, won’t you?”

I
hate
how rude she is, but I can’t seem to use my mouth now to say something rude and sarcastic. I’m ashamed of her, of this big house that has nothing but bad memories. Her perfume sits like a dense cloud around us, and I don’t want to follow her inside, I really, really don’t.

I’m a shit. I shouldn’t’ve brought Sera here. I shouldn’t even have attempted to bring her here, to pretend like my past is nothing, like I could be good enough for her.

I drop her hand like it’s on fire. I’m an idiot for doing it, ‘cause Mom takes the time to make everyone uncomfortable by tracing the distance between my hand and hers over and over again with her eyes, making my skin itch.

Plus, she had to go and mention fucking Aly. To Sera. I have no business dating a girl like her,
none.

“She’s not coming, Mom. We’ll be back around midnight. See you then.” I go for straight to the point. Trust Hilary MacLaine to make you pay for every second of lost explanation.

Mom puts Matty down and faces the two of us, looking between Sera and I. Yeah, Sera’s too good for this, I don’t need to complicate her life with my goddamned stupidity, or the kid.

“Midnight, you say?” Mom asks, and the words drip ice, I can practically feel the mucus in my nose going arctic. Her face is smooth and composed and it’s so fucking scary my heart trips over itself. The whole thing just screams
obey
and I’m so tired of listening.

“I think you should pick up my grandson at eleven - the latest. I’ll be in bed, of course, but Edouard will do an
exceptional
job of watching over him while you both are...out. Together.” She smiles a wicked one at both me and Sera, and I clench my fists.
Fuck this.
“You will be at your lunch with Alysha tomorrow, yes?”
Give it up. Just… give up. Stop fighting for things you aren’t meant to have.

Strength has nothing to do with the muscles popping off your body. Strength is the ability to stand in a middle of a storm and hold your ground. Strength is being tossed around, time and time again, and still finding a sliver of a way to get to your feet.

I’m just not strong enough.

“No,” I say, and even I can tell by my voice everything’s all gone to shit. A girl like Sera deserves superheroes; untouchable, invincible men that find it in themselves to save shits like me.

“You. Make sure you’re done...eating.” Mom turns to Sera, and I know this is how it feels right before a grenade goes off, right before the total obliteration.

I hate her, I fucking hate her; how in hell did Jules and me come out of her?

Her face imperceptibly cringes as she looks over Sera’s body. Yeah, they look fucking nothing alike. Where Mom’s body’s rod thin, Sera’s is soft enough that you want to cushion yourself around it all goddamn day. And I hate how Mom is making her feel like that’s wrong.
You’re going to pay for that.

“At eleven. You can skip dessert.” And Mom picks up Matty and walks off.

That did not just happen. You’re going to wake up now, MacLaine, any minute now, ’cause this isn’t real.

From my peripherals I can see Sera brace like she’s been hit. And still,
still
, she waves goodbye to Matty and gives him a smile.

“C’mon, hotshot. Let’s go,” she says, barely a tremble to her voice.
Say something, motherfucker! Say something… good, nice. Just say something!

Sera’s latched onto my hand and is pulling me down the stairs. Before I know it, she’s on the passenger side and I’m rounding the car, utterly stunned that my own mother just fucked my chances with what could be the coolest girl on Earth.

“Take me home, Hunt. This was a mistake,” she says when we settle into the car, seat belts on like responsible adults. Something burns inside my chest and on my cheeks. And then I let it go in one breath and squeeze the steering wheel.

I guess I sabotage myself, and I’m a self-fulfilling prophecy. Truth of the matter is, Sera deserves so much more than what I could ever be, and I know that. I know that where it counts, and I’ve shown in every single way that I don’t deserve her. I mean, who the fuck doesn’t say something when their own parent is acting like a total dick?

So I know this is the end, and I’m going to be left wondering what
could
have happened between Sera and me if my head was screwed on right, if I could be better.

“Please, take me home. I can drive if you’re not up to it.” Sera isn’t pleading, even though the words are there in what she says. No, her voice sounds like steel, strong and final.

“Shut up, Sera. Just shut it,” I snarl, and lean over her to get to the glove compartment. When was the last time I ate today? Figures I couldn’t open my damn mouth, my stupid sugar’s dropping. Fan-fucking-tastic.

I yank out one of my emergency juice boxes, and stab the straw through that tiny aluminum-looking hole thing. “I want to talk about something else. Please,” I beg, sticking the straw back in my mouth and sucking the sweet juice down as quick as I can.

She turns to look at me, and I can’t help but cringe. I don’t know what my face is actually doing, since I’ve lost that sensation right now, but I’m cowering on the inside, where it matters. Sera’s seen me at my weakest, but not my darkest. I don’t want to show her this side of me, I don’t want her to ever see me like this again.

“Something funny?” she asks, and I’m sure she hasn’t missed me strangling the steering wheel with whatever little strength I can muster.
Down the juice box. Wait to feel better and the numbness to go away.

Don’t talk – you’ll just sound even dumber than she knows you are.

“Yeah. Just... I really hate that place. Really bad memories. And my sugar dropped again. You have no idea what it’s like,” I tell her, willing her to believe my dumb excuse. If I was worth my balls, I would’ve said something to Mom. I would’ve done something.

Now Matty thinks it’s okay to insult other people, if he even caught the insult to begin with. All because my brain wasn’t working at a hundred percent.

“Look, I’ll take you home, I promise. Just tell me something good.” I toss the juice box in the back seat, ’cause fuck my manners, and noose the hell out of my steering wheel. “Please.”

“I wear nerdy underwear,” she blurts, and I feel my blood come surging through my body like lava. Then

I start laughing, the kind where my abs are getting abused from the movement. I turn to look at her, hands clapped over her mouth until she drops them in her lap and doesn’t look at me.

My heart squeezes in my chest, she’s so cute.

Don’t talk, don’t talk, don’t even think of doing it.

“The question isn’t what kind of nerdy underwear you wear; it’s if you’re wearing them right now.”

Idiot, you fucking idiot. Drive her home, you mongrel.

“Busted,” she says, and turns a beautiful shade of pink. Sera fidgets in her chair, and just that small movement has my dick twitching in my jeans, pushing up against the zipper tab.

“You feel it, don’t you.”
Ah, for fuck’s sake, stop opening your mouth. Please!

“Uh... what?” More fidgeting from her side of the car as she squirms in her seat to get more comfortable. She’s nervous around me and I’m not sure why. Not sure why I’m trying to be smooth when