Heat Wave (The Extraordinaries, #3)

by T.J. Klune

“Seriously,” another voice said. “I love you, but you’ve been narrating out loud for the past fifteen minutes, and while I appreciate your creativity, we probably should get a move on before the thieves get away with all the jewels.” The Extraordinary known as Guardian squawked as he lost his footing and fell off the ledge backward onto the roof. He landed roughly on his back, blinking up at the night sky. A moment later, the sky disappeared as a familiar face appeared above him, curls of dark hair hanging down around his face. He wore a sleek costume, black with red piping that ran up the length of his legs and torso. Across his chest, a symbol of a flame, the mark of a hero. “Pyro Storm,” Guardian growled, voice modulated deeply through his cerulean-blue helmet. He pushed himself up off the ground, ignoring the helping hand reaching toward him. “I knew you’d be here.” Seth blinked. “I should hope so. We came together. It’d be weird if I wasn’t here.”

He took a step back away from the Extraordinary. And another. And another. And then the back of his legs hit the ledge of the roof. He turned around, bending over, hands flat against the ledge as he looked back over his shoulder. “You’ve trapped me, Pyro Storm. I answered a call thinking it’d be a citizen in need of saving, but instead, it’s you. You, with your righteousness and your face looking like it does. My body is tense with pleasure and thrumming arousal.” “Uh-huh,” Seth said, a black-and-red helmet dangling from the fingers of his left hand, the lenses dull in the low light. “You sure seem to be shaking your ass a lot for someone who’s not sure.”

He winked over his shoulder. And then remembered Seth couldn’t see his eyes because he was wearing his helmet. “I just winked at you,” he said. “In case you were wondering.” “Oh,” Seth said. “I wasn’t, but thank you for telling me. That changes everything.”

This whole exchange is golden. Everyone need their own Seth ♥️

Nick waggled his eyebrows. “Having a little alone time thinking about Guardian, huh?” He blew on his knuckles before rubbing them against his chest. “Yeah, don’t blame you, dude. I’ve seen my butt in the mirror. I gots cake.” Sure, it was like a grocery-store sheet cake, but still.

By the time they got back to the blanket, they were exhausted, but the good kind of exhaustion that came from sitting in the sun and having at least a few hours without worrying about anything but each other. For a long time to come, Nick would remember this moment as their last before everything changed. He would look back, years from now, and know that at the very least, they had this day, this afternoon where the sun was shining and nothing hurt. And he would smile, because regardless of what came next, he had the best friends a queer kid with an overactive brain could ask for.

Omg I don’t even wanna think 😳😭

Thinking fast, Nick dropped his backpack, ripping it open and pulling out the Guardian costume. He handed the bundle over to Gibby before kicking off his shoes. “You don’t get to make fun of my underwear.” She rolled her eyes. “We don’t have t—nope, we have time. Nick, honestly. You are seventeen years old. You need underwear that doesn’t have cartoons on it.”

“He’s a good guy,” Nick said, rubbing his own tears away on Dad’s shirt. “He is. You both remind me of … how it was for me and your mother. And I hope you get to experience what we had because no matter how it ended, it was good. So damn good. Maybe that’ll be with Seth. Maybe it’ll be with someone else, but I want that for you.” “Me, too. I think it’ll be with Seth, though.” “Yeah?” “Yeah. If you didn’t scare him away with the banana on the condom or the dental dams or the unfortunate enema demonstration, I have a feeling he’ll stick around.”

“Hey, Nicky? What do queer men call hemorrhoids?” Nick gaped at him. “Speed bumps.”

Omg 😆

Dad wore a large fake brown mustache and oversized mirror shades. He looked like a seventies porn star, something Nick immediately wished he could banish from his brain. He knew a disguise was necessary in case Dad’s former colleagues recognized him, but there had to be a better way to go about it. “Well?” Dad asked. “How do I look?” “Like you want us to follow you into an alley so you can flash us,” Nick said. “Like you own sixteen birds with complicated backstories for each,” Seth said. “Like you’re the bass player in a Christian punk band called Please Us, Jesus,” Jazz said, leaning her head out of Matilda. “Like you have red satin sheets on your bed and mirrors on the ceiling,” Gibby said, her head just above Jazz’s. “Like you know how to show a guy a good time,” Burrito Jerry said. “They’ve got a point, man,” Trey said as Bob nodded. “I feel like you want to give me a body-cavity search with gloves you brought from home.” Dad threw up his hands.