The Scumbag's Guide To Heroism novel Chapter 22

Chapter 22: 22 | Dominance, Submission, and a Bowl of Popcorn

I headed downstairs, changed into comfortable clothes – loose joggers and a plain black t-shirt that wouldn’t make me look like I was trying too hard. The Oracle Feed kept flashing updates about Sloane’s movement patterns around the house, which I mostly ignored. I didn’t need a supernatural system to tell me she was excited. Her footsteps practically bounced off the walls.

The Fitzgerald house had an actual home theater tucked away on the first floor, behind a set of double doors that Diane had installed when business started booming. Not one of those sad little setups with a big TV and some recliners that people call "theater rooms." This was a legitimate mini-cinema with tiered seating, sound panels on the walls, a projector that cost more than most cars, and a concession area with an actual popcorn machine.

Rich people, man.

I found Sloane already in the theater, the lights dimmed to that pre-movie glow. She’d changed too – into grey sweatpants and a loose tank top that hung off one shoulder. Her pink hair was pulled back in a messy bun, a few strands framing her face. She glanced up when I walked in, a smile spreading across her face that hit differently than her usual expressions.

"About time. I thought maybe you fell in the shower. Again."

"Cute. Really cute." I walked down to the concession area where she stood filling a massive bowl with fresh popcorn. "You know what’s not cute? Bringing that up."

"You standing there naked like a deer in headlights was pretty cute."

I felt heat rise in my cheeks. "Can we please move on from my unexpected nudity?"

"Not yet." She tossed a piece of popcorn into her mouth with perfect aim. "It’s way too fun watching you squirm."

"I’m not squirming. I’m standing here very normally, like a normal person who normally wears clothes."

"Mhm." She handed me the popcorn bowl. "Hold this while I grab drinks."

I took the bowl while she opened the mini-fridge behind the counter. "What are we watching anyway?"

"Way of the Dragon Fist."

"Seriously? The martial arts movie?"

She emerged with two sodas. "What’s wrong with that?"

"Nothing, except you’re going to spend the whole time complaining about how unrealistic the fights are."

"No I won’t." She closed the fridge with her hip.

"Yes you will. ’That stance would never work.’ ’You can’t generate enough force from that position.’ ’His guard is completely open.’ Sound familiar?"

She pushed my shoulder. Not lightly either – I actually had to catch myself. "I don’t sound like that."

"You absolutely sound like that. Last time we watched an action movie, you threw popcorn at the screen when the hero did a spinning kick."

"Because his pivot foot was all wrong! He would’ve fallen on his ass!"

"See? You’re already doing it and the movie hasn’t even started."

She pushed me again, harder this time, her palm flat against my chest. I stumbled back a step, laughing.

"You want to go another round in the gym?" She raised an eyebrow. "Because I’m still pretty sure I can put you on the mat whenever I want."

"Maybe I let you win."

"Let me—" She stopped, narrowing her eyes. "Is this about your Aspect? You think because you can move a book now, you can take me?"

I shrugged, enjoying the fire in her eyes. "Maybe I’ve been holding back."

"Oh that’s it." She set down the sodas and cracked her knuckles. "We’re testing this theory. Right now."

I put down the popcorn bowl and gave her my best smirk. "Here? In the theater?"

"Why not? Scared?"

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