Page 1 of Not All Himbos Wear Capes
CHAPTER1
XANDER
How does he make that Lycra look so fucking good?
I angrily shoved another handful of Cheetos into my mouth as I squinted at the TV, wishing my glare alone could somehow penetrate Mr. Perfect’s invincible supersuit.
Maybe if I adjusted the lasers in my ray gun to harness the power of the sun…
Shaking my head, I refocused on the televised ceremony, grinding my orange-dusted teeth when the Mayor presented the heroic himbo with his newest Medal of Honor.
“Once again, Captain Masculine has saved our fair city from the clutches of evil!” she simped, looping the medal over his Lycra-covered head. “Thanks to his unshakeable heroism, the latest plot of Doctor Antihero was foiled before innocent lives could be lost.”
Oh, isthatthe narrative they’re going with?
I rolled my eyes so far back I saw my enormous brain. The Captain didn’t do shit to ‘foil’ me. Mymorningfoiled me. First, my rescue Himalayan—Neil deGrasse Meowson—was struggling to cough up a massive hairball, so I had to rush to the vet to pick up some meds. Then I spent an hour wrestling the salmon-scented paste into his fanged mouth, which ended with me bleeding everywhere and smelling like a combination of jock strap and putrid swamp.
Since I had an image to maintain, I then gotbackinto the shower to replace the fish scent with coconut and lavender. Only after re-coifing my luscious hair and throwing an embarrassingtrench coatover my waterproof supersuit to save time, did I discover I’d locked my goddamn keys in the car.
With absolutely zero cabs available, I was forced to hop on thecity busto get to my secret warehouse in time. To continue the theme of disaster, the A/C on the overcrowded deathtrap was broken, and we were further delayed because some little old lady got mowed down by a douche in a Lamborghini.
I’m sure they’ll find a way to blamethaton me, too.
By the time I arrived at the warehouse, boarded my WaveRunner, and raced down the secret aqueduct, I was in danger of losing the tides. Even though all signs pointed to mission impossible, I couldn’t abandon my task—not this close to a breakthrough.
That’s whenheshowed up with his big dick energy. As usual.
I swore Captain Masculine had some kind of creepy intuition with me. There was no other explanation for how skilled he was at knowing exactly how to piss on my parade. If my morning hadn’t been such a shit show, I would have activated the submarine function on my WaveRunner before he sent a giant fireball up my tailpipe, but I was off my game and didn’t react in time.
The least he can do is stop looking so hot while destroying another one of my toys.
It’s just rude.
Luckily, my Shark Suit™ kicked in as I dove into the icy depths to avoid being blown into chum. It was the only positive since I completely lost my chance to collect the algae samples I needed.
So I’m back at square one while Captain Cockblocker gets another medal.
It was times like these that I debated leaving Big City for good. I had more than enough money to start fresh elsewhere—to see what sort of trouble I could get into without a do-gooder breathing down my neck. But my experiments were centered on Awakener’s Bay, the bodega on the corner made the best goddamn fried chicken I’d ever had, and Meowson really didn’t do well with change.
Plus, I’d love to stick around long enough to knock the Captain down a peg.
Or… something.
As if lusting after that hourly rate, my cognitive therapist’s voice rang in my head.“You need to take charge of your mental habits, Xander. Instead of fixating on what went wrong, redirect your thoughts in a more productive direction. What canyoudo to improve your life?”
Sighing, I dropped my head back against the buttery soft Italian leather sofa and considered Dr. Ownit’s words. The thing that hadalwayskept me going—no matter how much the haters hated—was my work, and this time would be no different. All I had to do was refocus on the next step toward reaching my goal.
Or, I could pick up some fried chicken and eat my feelings.
Fried goodness won out, and fifteen minutes later, I was standing in the Sun-Mart deli, breathing in the glorious grease while a pink-haired manic pixie dream girl chattered in my ear.
“Seriously, Xan, just give Bangers atry.You are so fucking tense that I can hear you grinding your teeth through the walls. Which also means Idon’thear you getting laid.”
I nearly choked on my orange Fanta. “You aresucha fucking creeper, Kai. I should slap a restraining order on you for unsolicited voyeurism.”
She scoffed. “Oh, please. If you got a restraining order against me, I’d have to move out of the building. Our apartments are so tiny, there’s no way I wouldn’t be arrested for simply existing within 600 feet of you at all times. And I hate to break it to you, but you are quite vocal when taking a dick up the ass, so if you ask me, you’re inviting an audience.”
Rolling my eyes, I accepted the to-go box of heaven from the fry cook, giving him a hard look in return at the way his gaze raked over my body.
