Hired Hottie: A Hero Club Novel

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Hired Hottie: A Hero Club Novel Page 2

by Kelsie Rae


  Nose scrunching, he shakes his head. “Nope. You’re right. I changed my mind. I don’t want to know a thing. You’re like my little sister, and that’s just….” He shivers. “Let’s keep you in the sweet, little naïve box, shall we?”

  I open my mouth to make another smartass remark when Mandy appears to my right. “‘Scuse me.”

  As I lean back in my chair, Mandy scoots between me and the seat in front of her, bypassing Levi before sitting on his opposite side.

  Which means I’ve officially been forgotten. I don’t know what it is. Whether it’s the fact that he’s only here for a weekend before going back to college, and I wanted some alone time with my best friend, or if it’s because he’s so used to having me wait around like a little puppy for his attention that I’ve become his unofficial sideline girl. Regardless, I’m pissed. I hate that I’m always available at his beck and call but easily set aside when a girl with big boobs and the promise of an orgasm comes along.

  With a huff, I cross my arms and stare daggers at the screen in front of me. The couple a few rows back is instantly forgotten because all my focus is on the guy beside me. The one that knows I exist but doesn’t value the time he has with me. Why? Because he can have as much as he wants, and I’ll give it to him.

  Like I’ve always given it to him.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I count to ten before standing from my theater seat and practically stomping toward the exit.

  Phone in hand, I pull up my Uber app and request a ride while pacing the theater lobby. My black Nikes catch on the sticky floor beneath me, making a squeaky sound. It’s almost enough to distract me from my best friend, who I just recently demoted.

  Almost.

  I take a deep breath before stepping into the warm summer air of New York City. As I scan the buzzing street, my arm is pulled back, and I spin around to come face to face with said best friend who’s currently on my shit list.

  “Yes?” I ask in a snotty voice.

  “Hey. Where are you going?”

  “Home.”

  “Why?”

  I grit my teeth. “Why do you think?”

  “Because that couple in the back row was making you uncomfortable?” It comes out as a question, but I can tell he doesn’t believe his guess, either.

  With a dry laugh, I shrug out of his hold. “I gotta get home, Levi. It was good to see you. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Turning on my heel, my eyes search for the black Toyota the app promised is waiting for me.

  “Come on, Charlie. This is my last night home. I wanted to hang out with you.”

  “Really?” I scoff. “Coulda fooled me.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you brought a hookup, Levi. If you wanted to hang out with me so badly, then why’d you have to invite Mandy?”

  “I….” He runs his hands over his face before releasing a deep breath. “I didn’t know that bothered you.”

  “Are you serious right now? Of course, that would bother me. Like you said, this is your last night. Can you really blame me for not wanting to feel like the third wheel?”

  “But….”

  I know what he’s thinking. And it only pisses me off more. Instead of waiting for him to find a gentle way of saying it, I call him out point-blank.

  “Yeah. I know. It’s not exactly out of the ordinary that I play the third wheel with you and whoever’s planning on blowing you that night. I know that I shouldn’t be mad and that even though you technically asked me if I was cool with it before picking her up and I should’ve definitely said something before now, I’m still pissed. But it’s fine, okay? I’ll get over it. Just like I always do. And I’ll be waiting at your beck and call as soon as you’re finished getting your jollies off just like the guy in the theater. I’m going home. And I’m going to bed. Goodnight, Levi.”

  I take a step away, searching for the damn Uber, but Levi follows me. I’m probably causing a scene. Hell, I can feel multiple sets of eyes on me right now as Levi and I fight it out on the corner of the street. But for once in my life, I don’t really care anymore. I just want to get out of here.

  “Come on, Charlie. I didn’t mean it like that,” Levi says. “I didn’t know it bothered you so much. I’ll take Mandy home. It’s not that big of a deal.”

  “It is a big deal,” I argue, growing more frustrated. “It’s a big deal because even if you take her home right now, the night is still ruined.”

  “It doesn’t have to be—”

  “Yes, it does. I’m pissed, and it doesn’t matter how much Ben & Jerry’s I consume for the night. I’ll still be pissed until—”

  “Until you get some sleep.”

  I sort of hate him a little for how well he knows me.

  If I’m beyond frustrated, the only solution is to let me sleep it off. It’s like a reset button, and boy am I needing one right now.

  I’m like a damn statue as he takes a hesitant step closer and throws his arms around me, pulling me into a hug. I refuse to melt or bask in his attention while he rubs his hand along my back.

  “I’m sorry, Charlie. Seriously. I was an ass. I guess that sometimes I forget you’re a girl, and not just my wingman, ya know? Go to bed. I’ll talk with you later.” Releasing me, he steps back and motions to a black Toyota. “Just a hunch, but that guy’s been staring at us pretty hard. So, either he gets off on watching people fight, or he’s your ride.”

  I’m so stunned from his offhanded comment about me being a dude that it takes me a second to get my muscles to operate from my frozen position.

  Rocking back on my heels, I cross my arms. “What did you just say?”

  “Uhh…that I think that car is your ride?”

  “Before that,” I bite out.

  He quirks his brow. “That I was an ass?”

  “No. The part about you forgetting I’m a girl, and that you look at me like a wingman? That part.”

  “What about it?”

  The outrage that consumes me is palpable, and it takes everything inside of me not to call him a giant bastard who deserves to be neutered with a dull spoon.

  Fisting my hands at my sides, I mutter, “Bye, Levi. Have fun next semester.”

  I grab the door handle and swing it open. Once I’m seated, I slam the damn thing with more force than necessary, not giving a crap that I look like a pouting toddler, and he’ll probably tease me about it later.

  “You Charlie?” the driver asks.

  “Yup.” I grab my seat belt and buckle myself up, each movement jerkier than the last.

  “Your boyfriend coming?”

  I laugh maniacally then look out the window to see Levi heading inside before we’ve even left the curb. “He’s not my boyfriend. And nope. It’s just me.”

  Pulling away from the curb, the driver turns up the music to drown out the awkward silence, and my head drops back to the leather seat.

  Boyfriend? Ha. Not gonna happen.

  If only I could get that message through to my stupid heart.

  Chapter Two

  Charlie

  Saturday

  Levi: Hey.

  Monday

  Levi: What’s up?

  Monday Night

  Levi: You there?

  Ten minutes later

  Levi: Stop running and answer your damn phone!

  I laugh at that one because he really does know me too well. Still, it isn’t enough to make me respond.

  Tuesday

  Levi: Charlie. You always answer my texts within five minutes after I send them. What the hell is going on?

  Wednesday

  Levi: If you don’t respond to my text, I’m going to call the cops and submit a missing person report.

  It’s the last text that finally gets my numb soul to cooperate. Mainly because I don’t want the police knocking down my dad’s door.

  Me: I’m fine. Busy.

  I hit send before I can talk myself out of it. The lie sucks, but I don’t really fe
el like explaining myself. Mainly because I don’t know what the hell my problem is, either. So he called me a guy. Why do I care what he thinks?

  Oh, wait. It’s because he knows how touchy I am about it. Ya know, since I was practically raised with an unkempt pixie cut, was obsessed with sports, and had a best friend who loved Ninja Turtles and Pokemon, which means––you guessed it––I did too. Combine all of that with the fact I’m named Charlie, hate pink, and still haven’t gotten my boobs in, and you have a very tomboy girl with little self-esteem. But the real problem is the fact that all those stupid girly emotions have been resistant to the whole tomboy persona, which means I still feel every single one of them. And it sucks. A lot. I don’t have anyone to talk to. To gossip with. To unload all my pent-up feelings about my best friend, who sees me as his freaking wingman. My lips purse until I’m sure I look like I just sucked on a lemon.

  My phone buzzes in my hand. Annoyed at the whole situation, I glare at my screen, reading Levi’s response.

  Levi: Finally. You had me worried. What’s got you so busy??

  Me: Stuff. Did you make it back to school, okay?

  I roll my eyes as I hit send, recognizing how little I care if he even bothers to reply or not. I don’t know why. Probably because I do care. I just don’t want to care anymore.

  Levi: Yeah. I was thinking…I know you said you didn’t want to go to college, but what if you came here? I could show you around campus. Maybe set you up with a few of my buddies?

  The burn of acid floods up my throat as I read the message a dozen times before making myself respond.

  Me: Thanks for the offer, but I’m good. Gotta go. Talk to you later.

  Then I toss my phone aside and grab my Nikes.

  I need to go for a run.

  Eyeing my baseball bat propped against the closet door, I decide to bring that too.

  I don’t need a run. I need to hit something.

  Batting cages it is.

  And for once, I don’t even bother to bring my phone because I know I’ll only be tempted to tell Levi to go screw himself. But that isn’t something an innocent little friend would say. Especially when they’re looked at like a little sister. Or even worse. A little brother-slash-wingman.

  Bastard.

  A week goes by. A whole freaking week. And I don’t get a single text from him. The truth is sobering, though it makes my chest hurt. My feet pound against the heated pavement beneath my feet as I analyze my overreaction for the thousandth time.

  As soon as I round the corner, my pace slows, and I try to catch my breath. With the palm of my hands resting on the top of my head, I breathe deep.

  In.

  Out.

  In.

  Out.

  I try to push all thoughts of my best friend out with every ounce of used oxygen, but it does nothing to stop him from consuming my thoughts. I shouldn’t be as frustrated as I am. I know that. But it doesn’t stop me from being pissed.

  House in sight, I take my time getting there then dig into the pockets of my running shorts in search of my dad’s house key. I need to find a place of my own soon. But first, I need a job. Maybe I really will go into stripping. Maybe it’ll finally snap Levi’s warped perception of me. Maybe he’ll finally see me as a woman instead of a kid sister.

  And maybe pigs will fly.

  My childhood home is tiny. Hell, there are only two bedrooms the size of walk-in closets along with a small family room, a single bathroom that I share with my dad, and a tiny kitchen with dated wallpaper. Still, the front lawn is mowed, and the stairs leading to the porch are swept, making the tiny house one of the most inviting ones on the street. And I kind of love it.

  I take the steps two at a time before reaching the front door. As I fumble with the lock, my thoughts a chaotic mess, a voice behind me makes me jump.

  “Hey.”

  “Shit!” I turn around while clutching my chest. “Levi! You scared the crap out of me!”

  “You’re pissed at me,” he states in a matter-of-fact voice. It isn’t a question. He knows me too well.

  Shifting my weight from one foot to another, I give him a one-shoulder shrug. There’s no use denying it. He already knows the answer.

  “And?” I ask, folding my arms defensively. “What are you doing here?”

  His calloused palms grasp the wrought-iron railing before pulling himself up the steps until there’s only a foot of space between us. My back hits the red-colored door behind me in an attempt to give me a little more breathing room, but it doesn’t stop my heart from pounding harder than when I was sprinting up the hill a few minutes ago.

  “Charlie. I’m an ass.” His declaration makes me smile, fighting against the original anger that’d been harboring itself inside of me since our fight at the theater. Peeking up at him, I tighten my ponytail, my hands fidgeting awkwardly. When it’s clear he has my attention, he adds, “But you know I’m an ass.”

  With a sigh, I admit, “Yes. You are an ass to every other person on this planet. I know that. But that doesn’t mean it’s okay to be an ass to me.”

  “You’re right.”

  That’s it. That’s all he says. And it makes me want to see if he’s really my best friend standing in front of me or if he’s been replaced with a doppelganger.

  “Did you just admit someone else is right instead of yourself?” I tease, shoving his chest playfully.

  He laughs at my reaction, clearly pleased that I’m softening. “Yeah. I guess I did. But I am sorry, Charlie. I know that I touched on a sensitive subject, and I didn’t even have the decency to figure it out when it happened. I was pounding my brain for the whole last week, and I couldn’t piece together why you were so pissed at me. But once it finally hit me….” He shakes his head. “I’m such an ass.” Running his hands through his hair, he tugs on the roots until a bite of pain must spread across his skull.

  “We already agreed on that part,” I joke before reaching up and tugging his hands back down to his sides. His skin is warm, but I let go as if it’s scalding before rubbing my hands along my shorts to erase the feel of his skin against mine.

  Clearing my throat while praying he didn’t notice my reaction, I ask, “But why are you here? You could’ve just apologized over the phone.”

  “You weren’t talking to me, remember? I tried texting, and all I got was bullshit one-word answers. I know you better than that. I know that an apology text wasn’t going to make up for my slipup. You’re my best friend, Charlie. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I want us to go back to the way we were. I know things have been a little weird since I’ve been gone at school, and that they’ll continue to be weird while I’m finishing my degree for the next two years. But I don’t care how much the world changes around me; I just can’t let you change with it. I can’t let our relationship change.”

  “People change, Levi. It’s just a fact.”

  “But not us. Please. Please? I’m begging you.”

  The desperation makes me pause.

  “Promise me that things won’t change between us. Promise me that you’ll always be there for me, and I promise that I’ll always be here for you. I won’t use you, and I won’t be an asshole and invite girls when I’m with you. Our time is important to me, and I’m sorry I made you feel like it wasn’t. From now on, I’ll make it a priority. I won’t look at you like a wingman. I won’t look at you like one of the guys. I’ll just…I’ll just look at you like you’re Charlie. My best friend.”

  That’s the problem, though, isn’t it? a voice inside of me whispers. That’s all I’ll ever be. His best friend. And only his best friend.

  With a soft smile, I nod even though a small part of me dies inside. “I’ll always be here for you, Levi. You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

  Relieved, Levi throws his arm around my neck and pulls me in for a brotherly hug. “Thank God. ‘Cause I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Chapter Three

  Charlie


  Two Years Later

  “I’d like a cup of coffee with cream, two eclairs, and a cronut, please,” the customer orders. Her mouth is practically watering as she eyes the pastries behind me. I have to hide my laugh when I witness her set of twins tugging on her flowy skirt in an attempt to get her attention.

  Her trance makes me smile. I might be an avid runner and a softball junkie, but I’m also a sucker for sweets, so I can totally understand her fixation with the fresh-baked bread in baskets along the back counter.

  After high school, I spent a few months at a fancy restaurant uptown, then another six months working the batting cages, then a few odd jobs here and there before I finally found Get Baked.

  I started working here when I saw a Help Wanted sign in their window on one of my morning runs. It was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

  When the customer realizes her kids are starting to whine, she finally pulls her gaze away from the bread behind me and murmurs, “Faith. Hope. So help me, if you guys don’t calm down, I’m going to eat your eclairs for you, and you’ll be left with nothing.” Rolling her eyes, she looks back at me. “Sorry. I swear they’re better behaved when we’re at home.”

  With a light laugh, I wave her off. “No worries at all. I’d be whining too if I hadn’t had my sugar fix yet.”

  “Right? And coffee. A mama needs her coffee.”

  “Amen to that.”

  Ringing in the order, I give her the total then she hands me her credit card as a familiar face enters through the doorway.

 

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