Chapter One
Beck
Smiling was overrated.
Not like I trusted assholes who smiled too much in the first place because clearly, they had some ulterior motive. Everyone did—it was just human nature. Even all the way back in grade school, the kids who grinned at me usually weren’t trying to be friends. Just looking to gain more insult fodder.
Except I was in the middle of the hallway at Chicago Comic-Con dressed up like Superman, which meant faking my way through charming grins left and right, and my mouth was aching from the effort.
The whole convention center was bustling with energy—and a hell of a lot more people than I was used to. McCormick Place was massive, glass panes everywhere, lightingthe place up from the hefty doses of sunshine pouring in. The gray-and-white hallways would’ve been sterile if not for the explosion of color from all the cosplayers and the signs outside of every room announcing the panels. I’d just come out of a panel on the History of Star Wars, and a couple of minutes of walking through the congested corridor was making anxiety prickle across the back of my neck.
I needed to find a spot outside to take a breather.
If I had someone with me, either a friend or the Lois to my Clark, maybe I wouldn’t be this much of a mess.
But my Lois had dumped me three days ago, which had not only left me reeling but also out of options for a con companion. Hell, I hadn’t even wanted to be Superman, but Keira had all but begged me, saying we’d look so good in their costumes. My chest pinched tight at the memory of her somber expression, the pity in her eyes.
She’d busted out the classics during the breakup—it’s not you, it’s me. Let’s just be friends.
Which might have held more weight if I wasn’t always on the receiving end of those lines. After five thousand and one times hearing them, I was pretty sure I was the problem. Too quiet, too broody, not social enough—all issues I tried to push through and couldn’t. I didn’t have problems finding a date. Prospective partners liked that I had my shit together, since I made solid money as a financial analyst and had a condo in North Shore. They just didn’t endup liking me. Maybe I got a little intense about my comic collection, but I’d been finding those titles for years, and I wasn’t the only person on the planet who hated when people talked through movies.
I tried to avoid eye contact as I wove through the throngs of people, most of them in pairs or groups because they’d gone along with their friends. It wasn’t that I was friendless, but everyone in my circle already had other plans. Three days wasn’t great notice for anyone.
Especially not me. I’d been tempted to just not go to the con at all, but I’d been waiting for months now and had already bookmarked the panels I wanted to go to, the artists I’d been dying to see in Artist Alley—everything. I ran my fingers through my thick hair on impulse and then flattened them in an attempt to smooth any stray strands. I’d spent enough time putting product in this morning to care about the whole look.
“It’s a bird. It’s a plane. It’s a damn good Superman cosplay.” A smooth, rich voice came from my right, drawing my attention. I stopped midstride, trying to see who had spoken and if they were even referring to me.
Watch, the guy was probably talking about one of the other dozen Supes cosplayers roaming the halls, and I was just embarrassing myself. I swallowed down the nerves.
“I’m going to be a complete dork and ask to get a picture with you,” the same guy continued, and my gaze finally landed on the speaker.
A man stood in front of me in a detailed Batman costume, and not the cheesy Adam West type or the cheap kind. No, this was a full-body armor Batman suit, and the guy had the sort of gym-ready muscles to pull it off too. I couldn’t help but soak in the sight of the well-crafted cowl that framed a slender jaw peppered with scruff and the drifting cape that came down a little past his knees. Even with the man’s upper face hidden by the mask, his smile was bright, friendly…and way more real than the painful one I’d plastered on all day.
“If you want,” I said, the words coming out a lot gruffer than intended. Maybe this was why my girlfriends left me. Because I sounded like an eighty-year-old man telling kids to get off my lawn.
“I do,” Batman said, that cheer infectious as he sidled up to me with an effortlessness I envied. This guy was all up in my space, but strangely, it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Batman pulled out his phone and flipped the screen for a selfie as he snapped a shot of the two of us. “We look fucking awesome. What panel are you heading to?” the guy asked as if it were normal to converse with strangers out of the blue. Truth be told, I didn’t hate it, especially with how isolated I’d been feeling amid the crowd today.
“Uh, I was going to head up to the rooftop garden for a breather.” I clapped a hand to my nape and squeezed. People walked around us, since we stopped in the middle of the hallway chatting, and I was already fighting the urgeto bolt to a corner so I wouldn’t be in the way. I hated feeling like I was sticking out socially and always preferred blending into the background. “Then there’s a DC news panel I wanted to hit.”
“Funnily enough, I’m heading to that one too,” Batman said, gesturing down the length of his costume. “Though I’m sure that’s not surprising. Why don’t we go together?”
I blinked. “Don’t you have friends?” And this was clearly why I didn’t have any. Because I hadn’t meant it likethat,but my stupid mouth never coordinated with my brain before I spoke.
To my surprise, Batman just let out a laugh, a robust, bright sort of sound I couldn’t help but lock onto. “I mean, I do, but they’re not here today,” he said. “Most of my friends aren’t geeky enough to appreciate the hard work I put into this costume.”
“It is hard,” I blurted out. “To get the details right, I mean.” God, had I forgotten how to speak in the span of a day? When I was in my workspace, dealing with coworkers and clients, I had no problem interacting. After all, I was usually delivering charts and showing trends. Hard facts were simple, but when it came to navigating individuals, I was adrift. Proof positive was Keira dumping me right before the con.
“See?” Batman gave me a friendly shoulder bump, and how did people casually touch each other like that? “Iknew I’d find people who appreciated my costume here. So, up to the balcony?”
“Yeah, sure.” I attempted chill, not wanting to give away the relief that rushed through me at having someone to attend the con with, even if we were just going to a panel together. Being here alone reminded me far too much of sitting by myself at lunch in grade school, how despite being surrounded by people, I’d still felt lonelier than ever. I had friends now, but it was something I had to reassure myself of when the scars from the past tried to drag me back.
“Did you see the Godzilla cosplay yet?” Batman asked, his grin wide while he marched right alongside me. The man’s smile was spellbinding, all full lips and bright teeth on display. I caught a whiff of spice and cedarwood with how close the guy was, though it was a welcome scent, the sort I wanted to draw in more of.
“Nah, I must’ve missed it.” I tried to focus on dodging people. There were obstacles in every direction from the big Keyblade a random Kingdom Hearts cosplayer wielded to groups of people chatting in the middle of the hallway who’d decided to glut it up. I muscled my way forward to the balcony, determined to break free into the fresh air rather than the stale, stifling kind circulating through here. It was harder to pay attention, given the guy in my space, but honestly, my nerves had already started settling with having someoneto talk to.
“Oh, man,” Batman responded. “We’ve got to track Godzilla down and get a pic. Batman and Superman versus Godzilla would be fucking awesome.”
Tracking down meant we’d be hanging longer than just the panel, apparently. Warmth started to spread through my chest for the first time today. I’d liked seeing the cosplayers and checking out the panels, but with my anxiety turned up to high volume, I’d been finding it hard to enjoy myself. I’d been around this guy for a mere five seconds and had started relaxing, which was a gift in and of itself.
