All Superheroes Need PR (Supers in the City, #1)

by Elizabeth Stephens

Vanessa doesn’t hear or see me coming, so she doesn’t step off the step stool as I reach it and bracket her arms with my own, lining her back with the front of my body. I slam one fist onto the edge of the podium and let it erupt in flame as I point at the last journalist who spoke. “Don’t ask my girl stupid fucking questions.”

She says, “Thank you, Roland.” I feel the fabric of my being shift. And that’s it. It’s decided. She’s mine.

She’s shy. I see any of you hounding her on the streets, I’ll melt the cameras to your hands and light your underwear on fire.

“But I think I could try to be the hero for you.”

“Do you mind them calling you my boyfriend? Or me?” I ask him. Rollo’s expression shifts. His hand, which had been touching his naked chest, tantalizingly trailing over his abdomen, drops to the band of his basketball shorts. He swallows and shakes his head, then reconsiders on a nod. “Actually, yes. I do mind.” “You do?” “Thank heavens,” my dad mutters. “Yeah.” He takes a step toward me that raises the temperature of the air surrounding us. “Only because you won’t let me call you wife yet.”

“This girl? You think this girl’s too young to date? She’s an old lady and gettin’ older every day! It’s about damn time she found an old man.” “I’m her old man. Now put that young girl down before her boyfriend lights your pants on fire.”

“I’m here, and we don’t need to talk about it now. Just know, I want you. All of you. All the time. I got nineteen more dates till you marry me. We can figure out how many more dates we want before we expand our family, if you even want that. For now, though, we can keep practicing.”