The Scumbag's Guide To Heroism novel Chapter 113

Chapter 113: 113 | Which Room Are We Using?

The absurdity of it all hit her like a punch to the gut, stealing her breath and making her head spin.

"This is insane," she said flatly, the words carrying the weight of absolute certainty.

"Probably," Mom agreed with the kind of calm acceptance that suggested she’d made peace with the insanity long before proposing it.

"We’re going to regret this."

"Maybe."

"People are going to judge us if they find out."

"Definitely."

Sloane took a deep breath, held it for a count of five while her heart hammered against her ribs, then let it out slowly through pursed lips. The exhale carried some of the tension with it, leaving behind a strange sort of clarity that felt both terrifying and liberating. "Fine. We’ll try it. But the first time this gets too complicated or someone gets hurt..." She looked between them both, making sure they understood the seriousness behind her words. "We stop. Immediately. No arguments."

"Agreed," Mom said, her voice carrying the weight of a binding contract.

"Agreed," Lukas echoed, his tone matching the gravity of the moment.

And just like that, Sloane Fitzgerald officially became the kind of girl who shared her boyfriend with her own mother. The kind of girl who negotiated boundaries around intimacy like she was planning a business merger. The kind of girl whose life had become so complicated that this somehow felt like the most reasonable solution available.

The silence that followed their agreement felt heavier than anything that had come before it, weighted with implications and possibilities that none of them were quite ready to examine too closely. Sloane sat in the armchair with her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped around her legs in an unconscious gesture of self-protection, her mind trying to process what she’d just agreed to while her body hummed with leftover tension from this morning’s encounter with Lukas.

Her thighs still ached in that specific way that reminded her exactly how thoroughly he’d taken her apart a few hours ago, how completely he’d unraveled every defense she’d spent years building. The sensation was impossible to ignore, a constant reminder of how everything between them had changed overnight.

She could still feel him if she concentrated, could still taste the salt of his skin on her tongue when she ran it across her lower lip. The memories were vivid enough to make her face heat despite everything else happening, despite the surreal conversation they’d just finished and the even more surreal situation they were walking into.

Lukas shifted on the couch, breaking the quiet with the soft rustle of fabric against leather. "So..." His voice came out rougher than usual, carrying an edge of something that might have been nervousness or anticipation. "Which room are we using?"

Sloane’s head snapped toward him so fast her neck protested with a sharp twinge of pain. "Excuse me?"

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