The Scumbag's Guide To Heroism

Sloane laughed despite herself, immediately covering her mouth like the sound might travel through walls. Her mind conjured images faster than she could shut them down—Lukas without his shirt, those long fingers on her bare skin, the weight of her thighs on either side of his hips with nothing but thin fabric separating them. The memory of his hands gripping her waist through her clothes made her stomach flip.

She sat up fast enough to make herself dizzy, shoving the covers off. The cool air did nothing to help. Her pulse was still hammering. This had gone past manageable about three fantasies ago.

\[We should probably try to sleep. Big day tomorrow.\]

\[You’re right. Goodnight, Sloane.\]

She stared at his message. Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard. There were at least six things she wanted to say, none of which she had the vocabulary for at eleven forty-seven at night while her brain was still replaying the taste of his mouth.

Finally, she typed:

\[Sweet dreams, Lukas.\]

She dropped the phone on her nightstand like it had burned her and collapsed back into her pillows with a groan that came from somewhere deep in her chest. Sweet dreams. That was what she’d managed. Sweet dreams, like she was tucking in a kid at summer camp.

The problem was, she knew exactly what kind of dreams she’d be having, and they were anything but sweet. They were hot and forbidden and featured the one person she absolutely should not be fantasizing about.

But that ship had sailed the moment she’d felt his lips on hers.

Sloane closed her eyes, trying to focus on tomorrow’s plan. They would go to the IHL office. Get Lukas registered as a Channeler-type. Update his file from Unmarked to Active. It was a professional outing, nothing more.

Except she couldn’t stop thinking about sitting close to him in the car. About his hand accidentally brushing hers. About finding a quiet corner in the IHL building and finishing what they’d started in the theater...

"Stop it," she hissed to herself, punching her pillow into a more comfortable shape.

This wasn’t part of the plan. The plan was clear: graduate Halloran top five, go pro, build her ranking to top fifty within four years of graduation. Lukas was supposed to run her agency, keep her career on track, be her professional partner.

Not her... whatever this was becoming.

It changed everything. If they pursued this—whatever "this" was—the carefully constructed future she’d built in her head would need serious revision. She couldn’t have Lukas as both her agency manager and her boyfriend. That wasn’t how things worked in the Hero world. Personal and professional didn’t mix, not at the top levels.

Unless...

Unless Lukas became a Hero too. A real one, with his newly manifested Aspect. They could be a duo, like his parents had been. Fighting together, climbing the ranks together.

Sloane’s heart raced at the thought. It was a completely different future than she’d imagined, but suddenly she could see it with perfect clarity. The two of them, side by side in matching costumes, taking down villains and saving civilians. Their names linked in the rankings, a power couple both in and out of the field.

It was a far cry from her original plan, but maybe—just maybe—it could work.

The problem was, Lukas had just manifested. His telekinesis had barely surfaced a few days ago. Whatever baseline capability he was working with now was years behind anyone their age who’d been actively training since childhood. Telekinetic variants weren’t even uncommon. The registry added new ones every few weeks. If Lukas was competing against candidates who’d been refining their Aspects since elementary school, the gap wasn’t something enthusiasm could close alone.

He’d need to develop the Aspect fast. Really fast. Far beyond wherever the hell his starting point actually was. Enough to make the Halloran proctors forget the word "Unmarked" had ever been attached to his file.

But then there was the way he’d kept getting back up during training this past week. She’d been hitting harder than strictly necessary and they both knew it. The force behind her strikes had carried the kind of frustration that had nothing to do with proper coaching. He’d taken every hit, registered the impact, gotten back to his feet like standing was the only response that mattered.

And earlier tonight. The moment when he’d flipped her flat onto her back with enough precision that she hadn’t seen it building until the ceiling was already in her field of vision. That hadn’t been luck.

Then there was the look in his eyes when he talked about Halloran. Like the idea of not getting in wasn’t something his brain had bothered processing as a possibility.

Maybe he really could close the gap.

Sloane grabbed her phone again, pulling up the Hero Network app. She typed "telekinetic aspects" into the search bar and started scrolling through the results. Combat applications. Utility classifications. Development paths for low-baseline Channelers.

If Lukas was serious about this Hero thing, and it seemed like he was, then she would help him. Train him properly. Make sure he was ready for the Halloran exam.

And if that meant spending more time with him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin, well. That was just professional dedication on her part.

Her phone buzzed with a new message. She clicked over, surprised to see it was from her mother, not Lukas.

\[I can hear you tossing and turning from down the hall. Go to sleep, Sloane. Whatever you’re overthinking can wait until morning.\]

Sloane groaned. Of course her mother would know she was still awake. Diane Fitzgerald knew everything.

\[Not overthinking. Just planning for tomorrow.\]

The reply came quickly.

\[Planning or fantasizing? There’s a difference, honey.\]

Sloane felt her entire body flush hot with embarrassment. How did her mother always know?

\[MOM! Stop!\]

\[Just being honest. I was young once too, believe it or not. Get some sleep.\]

Sloane set her phone face-down on the nightstand, mortified. There was no way her mother knew what she’d been thinking about. No possible way.

Right?

She pulled the covers up to her chin, forcing her eyes closed. Tomorrow was important. She needed to be sharp, focused. Not sleep-deprived because she’d spent all night thinking about Lukas’s hands and lips and body.

Sleep. She just needed to sleep.

But every time she started to drift off, she saw amber eyes and felt phantom lips against hers, and her body temperature would spike all over again.

It was going to be a very long night.