Never Been Kissed(6)

By: C.M Kars



“Fine. But we will talk about it. I don’t give a fuck what your next excuse is gonna be, but you’re going to answer me. Got it?” Katie says, getting up in my face. Her index finger taps the tip of my nose and I end up rubbing it, taking a step back.

“You know you’d sure give a lot of dudes shit-your-pants syndrome when you’d use your dominatrix voice. You don’t even need a whip.”

“I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Tell me how many guys you bagged this week, and how many you’ve tagged.” I grin at her. She blushes pink, and clears her throat, straightening her cream blouse, and smoothing her palms over her pencil skirt. The bitch got lucky in the body department. How could anyone look at me when I’m standing next to her? When she shines so bright and looks so beautiful? I’m not even a blip on the radar.

“How many asked you out, K?” I poke her ribs, yelp when she karate chops my wrist. “Three? Four? Five? You’ve got pheromones leaking out of every orifice. What are you doing here with me?”

“Chill out, sister. Yeah, five guys asked me out. All horndogs. No gentlemen. And no badasses, either. So I said no to every single one. There was no tagging. If there were tagging, I would call you afterwards. Pact of the sisterhood, swear to Venus.”

I snicker until a solid knock echoes through my apartment.

Katie’s perfect eyebrows high-five her hairline. One stays cocked, a question without really saying anything. “I thought you didn’t know anyone in the building! Who the fuck is that!? Should I get a knife? Check the peephole before moving the lock, dumbass!” She scream-whispers, clutching the back of my shirt as we make our way to the door. I check the peep-hole and feel my tongue get thick.

“It’s just the dude from next door. Gimme a second.” I dislodge her hands from my shirt. “You ruin this, you’re buying me another one. Swear to God. Katie, back off. Go sit on the couch. He doesn’t have a machete.” That I can see.

She snorts, but moves back to the couch and sits, all of six feet away from me.

I open my door, and freeze. Without my glasses, earlier this afternoon, I knew he was hot, but the blurriness added a protection factor and let me deal with him as a normal person would. Now with my enhanced vision, he’s just... shit. Hotter than fire. He’s...volcanic.

“Yo,” I say, showing off my gansta roots. High cheekbones covered with blond-brown stubble, piercing blue eyes that remind me of Loki’s and a sinful mouth with kissable lips. The eyes are a little eerie, the kind of eyes that look through you instead of seeing you. I’m supremely hot and bothered and uncomfortable at the same time.

Hunter SexGod smirks at me, arms crossed around his chest. “Yo, yourself.”

I can’t help but ogle the muscles that pull his hoodie taught along his biceps and chest. I practically salivate over his wide shoulders, his flat abs and lean hips.

“What’s up?” I’m Rocky ghost-jabbing my fists in my head.

The hot bastard can cock an eyebrow like Katie. Maybe they should date? Owww, why does that hurt so much? My hand tightens around the doorknob, and I hope Katie doesn’t get a look at this guy. I just want him to myself for a few seconds so I can pretend.

“Didn’t we just do the whole hello thing?”

I shake my head, trying to focus. “Yeah. But I meant, ‘what’s up?’ as in, what do you need? Understand the slight difference?” Now I’m talking to him as if he doesn’t speak my language. Not many people do.

He nods stiffly, just a shallow dip of his chin. I have a feeling that he doesn’t move unless he needs to; I file it away for later. “I need to ask you for a favour.”

Oh, not good. I want to do whatever he wants. That’s not good. His words make me want to volunteer for something dumb, or curtsy. Or jump on top of his big body and maul him.

“Uh... Look, I don’t-”

“Do you have the Disney version of Peter Pan?”

My eyebrows punch low on my face in a scowl so severe, Voldemort would run. “Seriously?” I squeeze the doorknob tighter, letting the coolness seep into my palm. Reality. This is reality.

“Would I be here otherwise?” Ouch. In my dreams, you so, so would.

“I’ve got a problem with this,” I say. Here comes logic, to save the day. Keeping me sane. Keeping me smart. “You want a kid’s movie? For yourself? Look, bro, I don’t really care what you do with your free time, but if it’s to one of my movies then we got some serious problems.”

Hunter rears back his head. He looks like he’s swallowed down rotten food only because someone’s pointed a gun at his head. “What the fuck? It’s for my nephew.” The way he squints at me like I’m crazy makes me think I’m in the wrong.

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