The Scumbag's Guide To Heroism

Chapter 89: 89 | You Fight Dirty, Lukas

Sloane Fitzgerald stared down at Lukas pinned beneath her on the gym mat, his chest rising and falling with each breath. Her thighs squeezed his waist while she kept his wrists firmly pressed to the floor. A satisfied smirk pulling at her lips. She lived for this, the clean finality of a pin.

"That’s five takedowns in a row," she announced, not bothering to hide her smugness. "Sure you don’t want to call it quits for today?"

Lukas looked up at her with those amber eyes that somehow always made her heart skip. His hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and that stupid half-smile played across his lips.

"Not all of us have been training since we were six, Sloane."

"Excuses, excuses." She tightened her grip on his wrists, enjoying the feeling of his pulse against her palms. "Face it, Belmont. You’re out of your league."

"Says the girl who couldn’t even stand yesterday after—"

Heat rushed to Sloane’s face. "Shut up!"

The memory crashed through her mind like a tidal wave—his hands on her body, his mouth against her skin, the way he’d looked at her when he first pushed inside her. Sloane’s grip loosened just enough.

In one smooth motion, Lukas twisted beneath her, flipping their positions. Her back hit the mat with a soft thud as he settled his weight above her, his hands now pinning her wrists.

"Checkmate," he murmured, eyes glinting with satisfaction.

"You cheated," Sloane glared up at him, trying to ignore how good his body felt pressing against hers. "That was a dirty trick, bringing up... that."

"All’s fair in love and combat training."

Before she could protest further, Lukas leaned down and kissed her. His lips were warm and tasted faintly of salt. The protest died on her lips as he kissed her. A quiet sigh escaped her nose, the sound of surrender. The fight went out of her muscles, her body softening against his.

She forgot the mat, the gym, the five takedowns. There was only the pressure of his mouth and the low, insistent ache blooming deep inside her.

When they broke apart, both breathing hard, Lukas smiled against her mouth. "Still mad?"

"Hmm. Maybe." She bit her lip, trying to hold onto her scowl but failing miserably. "You fight dirty, Lukas."

"I learned from the best." He released her wrists and pushed himself up, offering a hand to pull her to her feet.

Sloane took it, letting him yank her upright. She couldn’t help but notice how much stronger he’d become in the past two months. His shoulders had filled out, his arms now defined with lean muscle. Nothing like the scrawny, withdrawn Lukas who’d spent nine years haunting the corners of her house.

This new Lukas was... different. Confident. Present. His gaze didn’t slide away when she looked at him anymore. It met hers head-on, sometimes with warmth, sometimes with heat that made her skin flush.

"Come on," Lukas said, grabbing his water bottle. "Let’s head upstairs. I promised you breakfast, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah. You better make those strawberry pancakes again." Sloane grabbed a towel and wiped sweat from her face. "I’m starving after kicking your ass."

"Pretty sure I had you pinned at the end there."

"Technicality." She slung the towel around her neck. "I still won the match count."

They walked toward the stairs, shoulders bumping occasionally. Sloane found herself hyperaware of every accidental touch, every brush of his arm against hers. It felt like electricity dancing across her skin.

The house stood empty and quiet around them. Mom wouldn’t be back from Chicago until tonight, which meant they had hours of privacy left. A dizzying little thrill went through her, a current that was equal parts fear and hope.

Privacy. Just the two of them. Her stomach tightened, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling.

Last night had been... well, amazing wasn’t strong enough a word. After years of watching Lukas from a distance, wanting him but never admitting it to herself, she’d finally crossed that line. And holy shit, had it been worth it.

The way he’d touched her—like he knew exactly what her body needed, like he’d been thinking about it for years. His confidence had surprised her. She’d expected fumbling, awkwardness, the usual first-time stuff. Instead, he’d taken control in a way that made her knees weak just remembering it.

"What are you smiling about?" Lukas asked as they reached the kitchen. freёweɓnovel.com

Sloane blinked, realizing she’d been grinning like an idiot. "Nothing. Just thinking."

"About...?" He grabbed eggs from the refrigerator, eyebrows raised expectantly.

"About how you better not burn my pancakes." She hopped onto the counter, swinging her legs. "Focus on cooking."

Lukas laughed, a warm sound that did stupid things to her insides. "You’re such a bad liar, Sloane."

"Am not."

"Your ears turn red when you lie." He stepped closer, positioning himself between her knees. "They’re practically glowing right now."

Sloane swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of their positions—her on the counter, him standing between her legs, his hands resting lightly on her thighs. The gym shorts she wore felt too thin as his thumbs traced small circles against her skin.

"Fine. I was thinking about last night. Happy now?" She tried to sound annoyed, but her voice came out breathier than intended.

"Very." His smile widened, smug and satisfied. "Care to be more specific?"

"You’re pushing your luck."

"Always." His hands slid higher on her thighs. "Was it the first time or the second that had you smiling like that? Or maybe the shower?"

Heat rushed through Sloane’s body at the memory. She’d insisted they shower to remove the evidence of their activities, purely practical reasons. Then his hands had started wandering, and suddenly she was pressed against the tile wall, legs wrapped around his waist, biting her lip to keep from screaming as he...

"Definitely the shower," Lukas said, watching her face.

"Stop analyzing me," Sloane muttered, though there was no real annoyance behind it. "Weren’t you making me breakfast?"

"I am." He leaned forward and kissed her softly. "But teasing you is so much more fun."

When he stepped back toward the stove, Sloane found herself missing his closeness immediately. How pathetic was that? One night together and she was already turning into some clingy mess. Not her style at all.

Except... maybe it was, with him. Something about Lukas made her want to drop the tough act she’d perfected over years. Something about him made her feel safe enough to be soft.

She watched him move around the kitchen, cracking eggs into a bowl, measuring pancake mix with casual precision. He seemed so comfortable, so at home in her space. Like he belonged there.

Like he belonged with her.