Keeper by Kim Chance
For Jim, of course.
CHAPTER ONE
The Dragon’s Horde was as crowded as a Walmart on Black Friday.
By a sheer stroke of luck, I’d managed to claim the last square inch of standing room left in the place. Wedged between a metal rack of colorful anime novels and a life-size cardboard cutout of Captain America, I used my SAT prep book as a barrier between me and the throng of cosplayers and super-nerds swarming the comic book store.
It was Superhero Saturday, and the tiny shop was packed with every die-hard fan within a fifty-mile radius. A hazard of living in a small town, I guess. With so little to do in Lothbrook, Georgia, the Horde’s monthly meet-up event was as big a deal as the San Diego Comic Con.
“Pandemonium,” I muttered as two brightly-colored, spandex-wearing individuals began a heated debate over which was better—Marvel or DC. “Noun. Wild and noisy disorder; uproar.”
I rolled my eyes and tried to tune out the noise. I needed to have fifty new vocabulary words memorized by the end of the night, and the chaos around me was making it difficult to concentrate.
I cannot believe I let Maggie talk me into this. I groaned, burying my face deeper into the prep book. That girl owes me so big—like “name her firstborn after me” kind of big.
I eyed my best friend standing a few feet away, talking animatedly to a boy with sandy brown hair and glasses. He was wearing a black Star Wars t-shirt and a newsy hat and looked exactly like the Pokémon-loving type of guy she usually gravitated toward.
Maggie was grinning and twisting a loose thread from her worn Batman t-shirt around her finger. Her thick black curls bounced around her shoulders—almost in response to her enthusiasm—and her light brown cheeks were tinged with pink. She practically glowed.
“Aww,” I said, turning to the cutout of Captain America. “Look! Nerd flirting at its best!” I chuckled at my own joke before turning my attention back to the list of words.
“Superfluous. Adjective. Means additional or unnecess—Argh!” I squealed as a large, burly-looking dude dressed like the Hulk bumped into me, sending my SAT book flying and knocking me right into Captain America.
The guy gave me a rather authentic grunt as I struggled to keep myself and the Captain in the upright position.
“Sorry,” he gruffed, handing me back my prep book.
“No worries,” I said, with a wave of my hand.
He grunted again and then ambled toward his friends, a group of guys all wearing various forms of tights and Avengers gear. I took it as my cue to get a little fresh air.
Weaving in and out of the crowd, I paid little attention to the people around me. My goal, the wide double doors, was only a few steps away.
“Now where are ye going, yon pretty lady?” A guy dressed as Thor—complete with thunder hammer and winged helmet—blocked my path. His phony accent was as ridiculous as the rest of his costume. “Ye should stay a while. I can show thou how I work my hammer.” He gave me a wide, toothy grin and jerked his head so that the rounded arc of his hair flipped back into place.
I rolled my eyes. “Save it, Thunder God. I don’t date guys who are more hair obsessed than I am. Maybe next time.”
I moved to sidestep him.
“Don’t be like that.” Thor stepped in front of me again, dropping the accent this time. “I’m just looking for my own Jane Foster, darlin’, and I think she might be you.” He winked at me.
If that’s supposed to be a panty-dropper, then this guy is more clueless than I thought. I rolled my eyes and tried again to step around him, but he was quick, holding out his hammer to block my path. This time he waggled his eyebrows at me.
I sighed. Clearly, Thor wasn’t taking the hint. I looked past him, hoping to see Maggie or some other form of escape.
I spotted it standing a few feet away.
A tall guy in a dark gray t-shirt leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. He wasn’t talking to anyone, and he looked about as thrilled as I was to be stuck in this circus of spandex. It was worth a shot.
“Babe!” I called over Thor’s shoulder. “There you are!” I pushed past Thor and walked over to the guy. His eyes narrowed in confusion, and I gave him what I hoped was a pleading look. “I’ve been looking for you!” I pulled him off the wall and linked my arm through his. Then I turned back to Thor and smiled widely.
Thor narrowed his eyes in suspicion, and my heart flickered with panic as the boy pulled his arm from mine. But then he snaked it around my shoulders and pulled me close.
“Sorry, babe,” he said, his voice deeper than I expected. “I got a little distracted by all the hair tossing.” He looked pointedly at Thor, and then stared down at me, a crooked smile on his lips. This time my heart flip-flopped for a different reason.
I turned back to Thor, a triumphant smirk on my face.
He swung his hammer from one hand to the other, glared at me, and then stalked off.
I quickly stepped out of the stranger’s arms. “Sorry about all that.” I shrugged. “Who knew Thor was such an arrogant asshole in real life?”
The boy in gray stared at me, his blue eyes bright with amusement. There was a faint streak of purple on his pale cheek, a bruise I hadn’t noticed initially. I wanted to ask about it, and there was a strange urge flowing through my fingers to reach out and brush his cheek, but I stopped myself on both counts. What the hell, Styles! Get a grip!