Page 2 of Not All Himbos Wear Capes
“Keep dreaming, Felix,” I snapped. “Despite what this stalker says, I am atop.”
He shrugged. “That’s cool, bro. I’m a switch. We could make it work.”
Why is everyone up in my business?
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Listen, Felix, I like you, but I like the fried chicken here more. If things ended badly, I would be forced to go elsewhere for my emotional support nosh, and I’m just too old to start over again like that.”
Kai smirked. “Which is exactly why you need a profile on Bangers—so you can swipe right on the hottie bottoms who match your anal-retentive criteria.”
Giving her a noncommittal snort, we headed back to my apartment, where I mindlessly scrolled through Netflix for impending food coma entertainment while Kai fucked around on her phone.
“That one looks good,” she murmured, hazel eyes still fixed on her device.
I scowled at the superhero movie splashed across the screen, noticing how much the chiseled brick house of an actor resembled Captain Masculine. While Kai enjoyed piping hot tea, there would be no way to explain my irrational hatred of heroes without telling her too much about my background. This chick may be the closest thing I had to a friend, but she could never know who Ireallywas.
The nefarious, algae-collecting villain of Big City, apparently.
Supes and normies were discouraged from forming relationships of any kind with each other. We weredefinitelynot supposed to reproduce, thanks to some sort of weird, enhanced bloodline class system I didn’t fully understand. However, it got tricky for someone like me. My parents were both supervillains—two of the most notorious—but I’d never manifested actual powers myself.
Besides an obsessive interest in marine biology.
Not to mention, I had less than zero interest in pussy, so any concerns about keeping my super bloodline ‘pure’ didn’t really apply to me. Regardless, I practically double-bagged my dick before sticking it anywhere, just to be safe. For all I knew, I was carrying super-swimmers capable of inducing mpreg and didnotneed that kind of scandal in my life right now.
“I’m not really in the mood for a superhero,” I gritted out, quickly scrolling to my favorite reality show about man-eating sea creatures, to see if a new episode was out yet.
“I doubt he’s a superhero,” Kai laughed, shoving her phone in my face. “It says here he works in accounting or something, butmySpidey sense says he really knows how to spread those sheets, nawmean?”
Realizing her attention had been on trolling Bangers, I snatched the phone away for a closer look. Kai sampled from both sides of the salad bar, and apparently, men were on the menu today, judging by the enormous dude-bro filling the screen.
Butch, 22
He/Him
Finance
Enjoys long flights, walks by the Bay, and doesn’t really know what he’s doing on here! Just looking for some fun, I guess!
He was gorgeous, despite the unfortunate fact he was wearing what appeared to be a polo shirt andsmilingwhile doing it.
Definitely a serial killer.
His blond hair and blue eyes screamed all-American, serial-killer-next-door, and his profile literally said he enjoyed long walks on the beach. All crimes against humanity aside, even I had to admit the dude looked like he was packing a weapon of mass D-struction below the belt.
But I would definitely still tap that.
I tossed the phone back into Kai’s lap and chose the latest episode ofBored Trophy Wives of Awakener’s Bay,since my self-proclaimed bestie here loved it. “He’s not your usual type, but you do you, boo.”
She cackled like a true supervillain. “Oh, no, sir, this one’s foryou.”Before I could send the phone sailing out my sixth-floor window, she tapped a series of buttons before deftly shoving the device into her cleavage where she knew it would be safe. “And you just asked him out on a date.”
This is why I don’t have friends.
“You made me a profile, didn’t you?” I sighed as the opening credits ofTrophy Wivesechoed through the small space. Kai’s answering grin had me briefly wondering if I could somehow bury her beneath the floorboards without the authorities finding out.
“Sure did!” she sang, grabbing a deep-fried wing and settling back to watch the drama. “And Butch here is your perfect match.”
“I highly doubt that,” I scoffed, thinking of how a few tweaks to the AI would vastly improve Bangers’ clearly faulty algorithm. “But you’re right—ithasbeen a while since I gave you an orgasmic show through the paper-thin walls separating our lairs, so I guess I’ll let you live.”
CHAPTER2
