Read Online Banging the Superhero by Rebecca Royce - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rebecca Royce
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to tell her daughter in words or deeds how completely she disliked being her mother.
Alice sighed as she straightened her clothes and looked at Ace. For the last several hours, he had held her in his arms. When they'd hit a patch of bad weather, he'd held her tightly and moved higher, above the clouds. She hated flying, and yet, she'd loved doing it with Ace. His body was warm and hard. God, was it hard.
His tenderness had disarmed her in a way she hadn't expected.
"Should we have called first?"
She shook her head. "No, she's home."
"I'm surprised the press isn't here hounding her, considering they're looking for you."
"She doesn't acknowledge me publicly."
She watched as he blinked, digesting what she'd said. "So she's an idiot."
He didn't ask that as question, just stated it as if it had to be absolute truth that someone would have to be an idiot to not acknowledge her.
"You and Draco don't tell people you're brothers."
He shook his head. "We do, if someone asks. We don't like people knowing at work."
"I see." She nodded. She actually did see how that would work. "Someone can say something to you about Draco that way without them realizing you have a direct line to him."
He sighed and put his arm around her. Before she could think better of it, she leaned into him.
"Draco doesn't like people knowing about his family because they inevitably get targeted. It used to be that I was his soft underbelly, now its Wendy and Lael too.
People talk at work. It gets to the wrong people."
Making herself pull out of Ace's warm embrace, she stepped forward onto the front porch. "Do you hug all your clients, Mr. Hudson?"
The superhero who was rapidly getting under her skin and through her self-erected walls had the gall to laugh at her. "No, and I don't pinch their asses either or dry their tears, Ms. Styles."
Her cheeks heated and she knew she was definitely red faced. Turning her back on Ace, she knocked on the door using the unicorn-shaped doorknocker. Again, another throwback to her childhood. She shook her head. Her mother never threw out anything. Except, apparently, her.
The door swung open and there she was: her mother. Alice held her breath. Her mother never aged. She'd appeared fifty when she was thirty-five and she continued to look the same age, no matter how old she got. Her mother had gone grey early and not done anything to hide the lack of color. It made Alice feel nutty to think about it. She was thirty-five years old—older than Ace, she would guess, which bothered her remotely and shouldn't, because it wasn't like they were dating—and if she went grey she'd run to the hairdresser every week, if need be, to get her hair colored.
One thing had changed: her mother wore shorts. In all of Alice's years, she had never seen her mother's bare legs.
"I wondered if you would show up here to hide from the photographers."
Alice cleared her throat. She had no idea what to say. Other than her bi-weekly, ten-minute conversation, she never spoke to her mother.
"I'm not here to hide."
Her mother looked her up and down . . . slowly, so, Alice imagined, she could make sure Alice recognized the look. "You're thinner than you seem on TV."
Deciding to ignore the first part and focus on the second, she finally spoke. "You watch me on television?"
"I've seen you on those commercials."
"Aha." Alice ran a hand through her hair. "Um, Mom, this is Ace Hudson. Ace, my mother, Dora Styles."
Ace stepped forward and extended his hand. "Mrs. Styles."
Her mother stared at Ace's hand like it was a foreign object. "You're one of those superheroes that are always flying over New York City."
"Yep, that's me."
Alice wanted to argue. Superheroes were not always flying over New York City.
In truth, it was a treat to get to see them, a rarity. You could tell their differences based on their personal traits too. Draco always wore black; Zee had a gold cape; and Ace . . .
well . . . he had the long, blond hair. Ace seemed not to
Alice sighed as she straightened her clothes and looked at Ace. For the last several hours, he had held her in his arms. When they'd hit a patch of bad weather, he'd held her tightly and moved higher, above the clouds. She hated flying, and yet, she'd loved doing it with Ace. His body was warm and hard. God, was it hard.
His tenderness had disarmed her in a way she hadn't expected.
"Should we have called first?"
She shook her head. "No, she's home."
"I'm surprised the press isn't here hounding her, considering they're looking for you."
"She doesn't acknowledge me publicly."
She watched as he blinked, digesting what she'd said. "So she's an idiot."
He didn't ask that as question, just stated it as if it had to be absolute truth that someone would have to be an idiot to not acknowledge her.
"You and Draco don't tell people you're brothers."
He shook his head. "We do, if someone asks. We don't like people knowing at work."
"I see." She nodded. She actually did see how that would work. "Someone can say something to you about Draco that way without them realizing you have a direct line to him."
He sighed and put his arm around her. Before she could think better of it, she leaned into him.
"Draco doesn't like people knowing about his family because they inevitably get targeted. It used to be that I was his soft underbelly, now its Wendy and Lael too.
People talk at work. It gets to the wrong people."
Making herself pull out of Ace's warm embrace, she stepped forward onto the front porch. "Do you hug all your clients, Mr. Hudson?"
The superhero who was rapidly getting under her skin and through her self-erected walls had the gall to laugh at her. "No, and I don't pinch their asses either or dry their tears, Ms. Styles."
Her cheeks heated and she knew she was definitely red faced. Turning her back on Ace, she knocked on the door using the unicorn-shaped doorknocker. Again, another throwback to her childhood. She shook her head. Her mother never threw out anything. Except, apparently, her.
The door swung open and there she was: her mother. Alice held her breath. Her mother never aged. She'd appeared fifty when she was thirty-five and she continued to look the same age, no matter how old she got. Her mother had gone grey early and not done anything to hide the lack of color. It made Alice feel nutty to think about it. She was thirty-five years old—older than Ace, she would guess, which bothered her remotely and shouldn't, because it wasn't like they were dating—and if she went grey she'd run to the hairdresser every week, if need be, to get her hair colored.
One thing had changed: her mother wore shorts. In all of Alice's years, she had never seen her mother's bare legs.
"I wondered if you would show up here to hide from the photographers."
Alice cleared her throat. She had no idea what to say. Other than her bi-weekly, ten-minute conversation, she never spoke to her mother.
"I'm not here to hide."
Her mother looked her up and down . . . slowly, so, Alice imagined, she could make sure Alice recognized the look. "You're thinner than you seem on TV."
Deciding to ignore the first part and focus on the second, she finally spoke. "You watch me on television?"
"I've seen you on those commercials."
"Aha." Alice ran a hand through her hair. "Um, Mom, this is Ace Hudson. Ace, my mother, Dora Styles."
Ace stepped forward and extended his hand. "Mrs. Styles."
Her mother stared at Ace's hand like it was a foreign object. "You're one of those superheroes that are always flying over New York City."
"Yep, that's me."
Alice wanted to argue. Superheroes were not always flying over New York City.
In truth, it was a treat to get to see them, a rarity. You could tell their differences based on their personal traits too. Draco always wore black; Zee had a gold cape; and Ace . . .
well . . . he had the long, blond hair. Ace seemed not to
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