Page 31 of Not All Himbos Wear Capes
I experienced both annoyance and relief when Kai loudly reappeared from my bedroom. “Whew, it smells likenastysex up in there. Crack a window, Xan—air it out a little.”
Butch was blushing all over again, but I just rolled my eyes. “Stuff a burrito in it, Kai. I’m going to put some clothes on before joining you. Pleasetrynot to scare away my date.”
He’s not just your date, Xan.
Kai gave a sassy salute as I walked into my bedroom, shutting the door behind me. As soon as I was alone, I sat on the edge of the bed and dropped my head into my hands. Whatever was happening to me went way beyond the emotional. My chest felt tight, and a strange buzzing sensation was running through my veins, making my fingers tingle—almost like theyitchedto do…something.
More than anything, I was excruciatingly aware of how much I wanted to tear my bedroom door off its hinges, simply because it separated me from Butch.
Jesus fuck, I’m fucked.
My phone chimed on the nightstand with a reminder for Tuesday’s cognitive therapy appointment with Dr. Ownit. This made my anxiety ratchet up even higher because it meant I was going to have to talk aboutthis.
AboutButch.
Yes, I could just sit on Ownit’s uncomfortable couch and rattle off a generic report of the past week, but that wasn’t what I was paying a pretty penny for. Among the few things I believed in, one was that buying quality goods and services—and actuallyusingthem to their full extent—was my constitutional right as a man with exceptional taste and money to burn. Another was the importance of saving coastal wildlife from consumers like me.
I also previously believed I didn’t need anyone else but myself.
Realizing Kai was probably strong-arming Butch into telling her exactly how my fingers felt buried in his ass, I quickly dressed in some activewear and returned to the living room. To my relief, the two of them were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, watchingBored Trophy Wives of Awakener’s Baywhile munching on breakfast burritos. At leastKaiwas.
“Why aren’t you eating?” I pointed an accusing finger at Butch’s untouched burrito, sounding way more demanding than I meant to.
My tone didn’t seem to bother him, as those goddamn dimples appeared again. “I was waiting for you,” he calmly replied, obediently reaching for his breakfast as I sat beside him.
I huffed, grabbing my own off the table, along with an extra large coffee. “You don’t have to worry about your manners around me, Butch. I bet we were both raised with enough pomp and circumstance to last a lifetime.”
“Agreed,” he chuckled before eyeing me, almost shyly. “But the reason I waited was that I’ve noticed how much you…”—his gaze darted to Kai, but her attention was on the TV—“enjoywatching me eat.”
I enjoy taking care of you.
“Come with me to work today,” I blurted out through a mouthful of eggy goodness. While my plan for the day would probably bore Butch, the thought of us going our separate ways felt unacceptable.
He smiled before taking a bite of his burrito, the pleasure on his face making my insides hum with satisfaction. “Yes,” he replied once he’d swallowed, like the good boy he was. “The answer will always be yes, Xan.”
CHAPTER15
XANDER
As expected, the northernmost cove of Awakener’s Bay was a fucking mess.
Because of the North Pacific currents, a ridiculous amount of trash always ended up here, swirling in the shallows and lapping over the sand. Occasionally, some do-gooder normies would band together for a well-publicized ‘Beach Cleanup Day,’ but it didn’t take long for the endless flow of flotsam to drift in again.
Forget beach cleanups—we need civilization cleanups.
I shook the tempting thought from my mind. Yes, with a few tweaks, the device I was working on could be used against humans—and supes—but that wasn’t what I was trying to accomplish here. My focus was entirely on those most affected by the actions of us ‘superior’ creatures.
While empathy wasnota trait modeled or encouraged in the Suarez household growing up, I'd somehow developed something close to it—for wildlife, at least.
I first noticed the unfamiliar emotion during a family outing when I was eight. A superhero-sympathizer pissed off my parents, so the entire clan had descended on his million-dollar oceanfront mansion to teach him a lesson.
By that point, we all knew I had no powers, so my job had been to stay outside and act as a lookout for fire boats and avenging supes. I obeyed—happy to be included—although what they thought a powerless kid could do against any would-be saviors was beyond me.
I was probably less of an accomplice and more of a sacrificial lamb.
As usual, my family had taken their sweet time torturing their victim, so I got bored and started exploring the beach. I’d always been drawn to the ocean—even once dreamed my powers would be water-based—but before that day, I’d never understood howaliveit was. How fragile.
Until I saw the turtle.
