The Scumbag's Guide To Heroism novel Chapter 45

Chapter 45: 45 | The Indecent Hypothesis

Diane stood up and walked toward the door. When I didn’t immediately follow, she looked over her shoulder, one perfect eyebrow raised in question.

"Are you coming?" Her voice carried that Southern warmth with a sharp edge underneath.

I sat frozen for a second, mind racing through every possible outcome of what "coming with her" actually meant. The blanket still covered my lap, hiding evidence of what had just happened with both her and Sloane within minutes of each other.

"Yeah," I said, finding my voice. "Yeah, I’m coming."

She extended her hand toward me, fingers splayed in invitation. Not a suggestion. A requirement.

I took it. Her grip tightened the moment our skin connected, as if she thought I might bolt. Smart woman. I’d considered it.

Diane led me through the hallway, her silk nightgown whispering against her skin with each step. The house was quiet. Sloane’s door was closed, light visible underneath. Probably texting someone about what just happened. Or plotting my murder. Both seemed equally possible.

We reached Diane’s bedroom at the end of the hall. I’d never been inside before. Nine years living in this house and her room remained the one space I’d never entered. She pushed the door open and pulled me inside.

Click.

The lock engaged behind us.

Her bedroom was exactly what I’d expected—tasteful, expensive, spotless. California king bed with enough pillows to suffocate a small army. Art on the walls that probably cost more than a car.

Diane sat on the edge of the bed, silk nightgown riding up her thighs. She crossed her legs, looking perfectly composed despite everything that had just happened downstairs.

"Come here," she said.

I stepped forward until I stood directly in front of her. Close enough that she had to look up to maintain eye contact.

"Take off your shirt."

My heart slammed against my ribs. "What?"

"Your shirt. Take it off."

I pulled my t-shirt over my head, dropping it on the floor beside me. Her gaze traveled across my chest, assessing. I wasn’t built like a superhero—not yet—but the training with Sloane had already started changing me. More definition. Less skinny kid, more lean muscle.

"Why did you touch me?" Diane asked, voice casual like she was asking about the weather. "Don’t you like my daughter?"

The question hit like a truck. Direct. Unexpected. Pure Diane.

"Because it looked like you needed that," I said, surprising myself with the honesty.

"Oh?" Her lips curved into something between a smile and a challenge. "How do you know what a woman needs?"

I shrugged, maintaining eye contact despite every instinct screaming to look away. "You work your ass off for us and have to be professional in the outside world. You deal with a bunch of egotistical heroes and deadlines and do it with a smile. You looked stressed. I wanted to relieve you of that."

"Hm." She tilted her head slightly, pink hair falling across one eye. "So it was strictly just to help?"

"I—"

"Don’t lie to me."

Her Aspect flashed in her eyes. Read the Room. She would know. She would feel whatever emotional state I was projecting right now.

I hesitated, weighing my options. Twelve percent chance of successfully lying to her, the System had said. Terrible odds.

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