Hired Hottie: A Hero Club Novel Read online

  Hired Hottie

  A Cocky Hero Club World Novel

  Kelsie Rae

  Copyright © 2019 by Kelsie Rae

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. The reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  Editing by My Brother’s Editor

  Proofreading by Stephanie Taylor

  2020 Edition

  Published in the United States of America

  Contents

  Cocky World

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  Interested in more of the Cocky World?

  Interested in reading Indie and Rhett’s story?

  Rhett

  Also by Kelsie Rae

  About the Author

  Hired Hottie is a standalone story inspired by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward’s Mr. Moneybags. It's published as part of the Cocky Hero Club world, a series of original works, written by various authors, and inspired by Keeland and Ward's New York Times bestselling series.

  Prologue

  Charlie

  Resting my head against the school bus window, I squeeze my eyes shut. But it doesn’t make the mean boy’s words go away.

  Why do you have a boy name? Are you a boy? Your hair is short like a boy. Charlie’s a boy! Charlie’s a boy!

  With a sniff, I use the sleeve of my shirt to wipe under my nose.

  Bunch of jerks.

  The bus bench shakes as someone plops down beside me. Slapping his hand against the brim of my baseball hat, my best friend greets me. “Hey, Charlie.”

  “Hi,” I mumble, but I don’t look up at him.

  “Charlie?” he pushes, leaning closer.

  I scoot closer to the window.

  “Leave me alone, Levi.”

  “Are you crying?” He sounds surprised. But I guess that makes sense. I’ve never been a crier.

  Shaking my head, I wipe my tear-stained cheeks but keep my eyes glued to the front of the school.

  Why haven’t we left yet? Isn’t everyone on the bus?

  I want to go home. Well, to Levi’s home. His mom takes care of me while my dad is at work.

  “Charlie, look at me,” Levi says quietly.

  Knowing he won’t stop bugging me until I do, I peek up at him. He’s bigger than me. He’ll be in middle school soon, and I’ll be stuck here for another three years.

  The thought brings another tear spilling down my cheek.

  “What’s wrong?” he whispers before looking around the bus to see if anyone heard him. I know he doesn’t care whether people eavesdrop on us, but he knows I do. I don’t like being the center of attention. I don’t like anyone noticing me. Period.

  Unless it’s Levi.

  I stay quiet.

  “Was someone being a jerk to you again?”

  Dropping my chin to my chest, I try not to cry even more. My dad always tells me to be tough. I can be tough.

  “Who was it, Charlie? What were they saying?”

  “I don’t want you to get in trouble for beating anyone up,” I plead. My voice is kind of squeaky as I dare to look over at Levi again.

  “I won’t get in trouble,” he chuckles. “Just tell me what happened.”

  “They said I was a boy.”

  “Who’s they?”

  “C-Conner.”

  “Conner Daniels? Again?” Shaking his head, Levi nudges my shoulder. “You’re not a boy, Charlie.”

  “B-But I have boy hair. And a boy’s name.”

  “Your dad gave you a short haircut ‘cause he doesn’t know how to do bows and stuff. That doesn’t make you a boy.”

  “But my name—”

  “Is awesome, Charlie. And your full name is Charlotte. That’s a girl’s name.”

  “But he said—”

  “Forget what he said.” His jaw tightens as he holds my stare. “You’re better than that, Charlie. Don’t let anyone ever make you feel like you’re not perfect, okay? They don’t know you like I do. And if they ever make you feel anything less than that, you tell me. I’ll take care of it.”

  “But I don’t want—”

  Slapping the brim of my hat, again, he says, “No buts, Charlie. I got your back. Always. Understand?”

  I stay quiet because I don’t want to argue with him, but I also don’t think he’s totally right, either.

  “What is it?” Levi pushes, reading my mind. He always does that.

  “H-how will you have my back when you go to middle school?”

  With a shrug, a confident Levi leans back into the brown cushion and gives me his simple answer. “I see you every day, Charlie. Just because I won’t ride the bus home with you doesn’t mean we’re going to stop hanging out. Your dad still needs my mom to watch you. And even if he didn’t, I’m not going anywhere. We’re best friends.”

  “Forever?” I whisper, staring into his green-brown eyes.

  “Yeah, Charlie. You’re like my little sister, and if you have any problems while I’m at Granger Middle School, you just tell me, and I’ll get it taken care of. Promise.”

  Smiling softly, and feeling hope for the first time since recess, I rest my head against his shoulder.

  Life might be crappy sometimes, but at least I have Levi.

  Chapter One

  Charlie

  The sound of knuckles tapping against the front door grabs my attention as I slip on my jacket and peck my dad on his wrinkled forehead.

  “Bye, Dad! Levi and I are going to a movie! Be home later.”

  “See ya, Charlie. Be safe!”

  “Always!”

  Twisting the door handle, I open it to see my best friend grinning back at me. Sporting a leather jacket and a dark T-shirt with a few days’ worth of scruff, Levi McCoy is…gorgeous. And completely oblivious that I’ve been in love with him since I was six.

  “Hey, stranger,” I greet him, ignoring the way my heart pounds against my ribcage like a damn jackhammer.

  Just like when we were little, Levi slaps the brim of my baseball hat down a few inches. “Hey, Charlie. You ready?”

  “Yup.” I skip down the stairs toward his beat-up silver Camry and ask, “So how’s college going?”

  With a shrug, he opens the passenger door. After I slide inside, he slams it closed before rounding the front and getting behind the steering wheel. “It’s good,” he answers. “I have a pretty cool roommate, so that helps. How’s your last year of high school?”

  I groan. “
Don’t remind me. I am so done with school.”

  “Have you applied to any colleges yet?”

  Scrunching up my face, I reach for the radio, but he slaps my hand away.

  “Nice try. Answer the question,” he pushes.

  “I’m not going to college.”

  “Then what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrug. “Anything else. Like literally.”

  “Even pole dancing?”

  Snorting, I shove his shoulder. “I think we both know that would be a terrible profession for me.”

  “What? Because you’d have to wear a thong on stage?”

  “Nooo…,” I drag out the word. “Because I’d…. Actually, yeah. There’s no way those things can be comfortable.”

  “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.” He winks.

  “Oh, so you’ve tried on a man thong?”

  “Hell, no! But the girls I date haven’t complained about a little floss up the ass.”

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I’m gonna have to pass. I’ll keep my boy shorts thank you very much.”

  “Meh. Boyshorts can be hot too. I bet the spectators at the local gentleman’s club wouldn’t mind seeing them.”

  “You forget they’re on me, remember?”

  My entire body pricks with awareness as his gaze lazily scans me up and down before he turns his attention back to the road. “My point stands. So…I was wondering….”

  The rest of his comment is blocked by a loud buzzing in my ears, my brain practically short-circuiting.

  Did he just sorta, maybe, kinda admit I’d look good in my underwear? I mean, I didn’t imagine that, right? He did say—

  “Charlie.” Levi snaps his fingers an inch from my face before returning his hand to the steering wheel.

  Shaking my head, I ask, “Sorry…what were you saying?”

  “I was asking if you’d be okay with me picking up a girl I met. She’s in one of my classes and is down here to visit family for the school break too. She texted when I was on my way to pick you up. I didn’t want to be rude or anything but….”

  “But you want to hook up with her and figured tonight is as good of a time as any?”

  The little fantasy I’d created in my head in the span of five seconds pops like a balloon with a pin.

  An extra-pointy pin named reality.

  Dammit.

  The bastard has the sense to look sheepish. “I mean…if you’re not cool with it—”

  “It’s fine,” I concede, though I don’t bother to hide my annoyance.

  It’s not like we haven’t seen each other in almost a year or anything, and that I’ve missed hanging out with you more than anything on this planet. But sure, bring an easy lay along. Sounds juuust peachy.

  I cross my arms and fume out the window.

  “You sure you’re okay with it?” he prods.

  Do I look okay with it? I want to shout. But I don’t. Because then he’d wonder why I wasn’t cool with having a front-row seat to his sexual escapades. Then that question would lead down an endless rabbit hole until he’d finally figure out his tomboy best friend––who he looks at like a little sister––wants to be his sexual escapades instead of some random girl in his college class. Which is ironic because I’ve never even been kissed. I’ve never wanted to be kissed. Unless Levi was the one to do the honors. But he’s too busy sticking his tongue down every other girl’s throat to ever finally notice me.

  Damn, I’m pathetic.

  “Charlie?”

  “Yup. But you’re buying the popcorn. And I expect one large bowl to share instead of your usual anti-sharing technique. Oh! And I demand an extra squirt of butter.”

  Nose wrinkling in disgust, he argues, “Come on, Charlie. You know how much I hate to share. And don’t even get me started on the fake butter they spray on there. You know that shit’s not good for you.”

  “It is if you’re running six miles a day. And sharing is good for you. You should try it sometime.”

  “Speaking of running,” he remarks, completely ignoring the sharing jab. “Your dad told my mom that you’ve gotten a couple of scholarship offers for softball.”

  I groan. “Sometimes I hate how much our parents talk. And before you ask if I’m going, I already told you. College is a hard pass for me. I’m over school.”

  “Which is why you’ll be stripping in a year.” His mouth tilts up in amusement, but he doesn’t bother to argue the subject anymore. We both know I’m as stubborn as the female population comes, and I won’t budge.

  After picking up Mandy from the subway, we head to the Lincoln Square Loews Cinema and grab our tickets. All the good movies are sold out, so we’re stuck with some bank heist comedy. It doesn’t matter; I’ve got a giant tub of popcorn tucked on my lap and am officially a happy camper. Especially when Levi leans closer to grab a handful, munching happily on the extra buttered popcorn like a champ.

  Did he notice the way our hands brushed against each other? Probably not.

  Sitting back in his seat, Levi tosses his arm around his date.

  There goes my moment of bliss, I grumble to myself. Gritting my teeth, I bring another kernel to my mouth while attempting to block out my best friend making a move on a skank in a jean miniskirt and heels.

  I hate high heels.

  Munching on a buttery piece that tastes more like sawdust than popcorn, I stare at the screen in front of me. Unfortunately, I only see a bunch of blurred colors smearing across the wall as my attention is elsewhere. Levi shifts next to me, and my eyes dart over to him before a thick wave of regret makes me drop the buttery kernel in my hand.

  Seems I’ve lost my appetite.

  Less than a foot away from me, Mandy’s tongue is practically being swallowed whole by the biggest manwhore I’ve ever met. It’s like a train wreck, and I can’t help but take another quick glance to my left. Yup. His hand is on her boob. Her gigantic watermelon boobs that put my lemons to shame.

  I think I just threw up in my mouth.

  I’m used to this kind of behavior. I hate it. But it isn’t exactly out of the ordinary, even though it pisses me off. Squeezing my eyes shut, I count to ten. Then I set the container of popcorn on the floor under my seat with the intention of hiding away in the bathroom. Unfortunately, my escape is thwarted when the make-out session is stalled with a hand to Levi’s chest.

  “What is it?” I hear him whisper.

  A bright light from a cell phone catches my attention before it’s swallowed by the darkness in the theater.

  “Shit. It’s….” She clears her throat. “I need to take this. I’ll be back in a few.”

  Shuffling out of the aisle, Mandy escapes down the tunnel and into the lobby, which leaves me alone. With Levi. After his mouth was on someone else less than a minute ago.

  Yet, my entire body is still tingling from his presence beside me.

  I seriously gotta let this crush go.

  Even though there’s a movie dancing on the screen in front of us, it doesn’t stop the awkward tension from hanging over us like a heavy fog. I keep my attention straight ahead when a soft squeak a few rows back distracts me.

  Turning around, my jaw drops until I’m sure I look like a gaping fish as I witness a couple getting hot and heavy in the back row. They’re completely oblivious to the world around them, caught up in their own little world. I feel like I’m intruding on their little…moment and scrunch low in my seat, my cheeks heating with embarrassment.

  “You okay?” Levi murmurs beside me.

  With the skills of Mr. Miyagi, my hand darts out and fists the neckline of his T-shirt before dragging him toward me.

  “Will you be quiet?” I hiss.

  “I am being quiet! Who are you hiding from?”

  “I’m not hiding from anyone.”

  His hand lands on my knee and squeezes, making me squirm.

  “Liar,” he whispers. “You look like a cherry tomato, and you’re slouched in your seat like you’re on Ameri
ca’s Most Wanted.”

  With a huff, I mumble, “Fine! There’s a couple in the back who are making your little tryst from a minute ago look like child’s play.”

  His head pops up above the seats while I cringe at his not-so-subtle attempt to be a covert spy.

  “Dude, I’ll bet you twenty bucks he’s getting a hand job,” he challenges. The light from the forgotten movie shines on his face as he bounces his eyebrows up and down.

  “No, they aren’t,” I object. “There’s no way they’d do that in the middle of a crowded theater.”

  With a dark chuckle, he pats my head. “Silly, naïve Charlie. Sometimes I forget how innocent you are.”

  “Shut up.” I shove his hand away and give him a glare. There’s no point in arguing because we both know he’s not wrong.

  “So tell me…do you think it’s hot?” he murmurs.

  “Is what hot?”

  “That you know some guy is getting his jollies off a few rows back?”

  “Why on Earth would I think that was hot?” I ask in disbelief, my eyes widening as I shake my head in disgust.

  “I dunno.” He shrugs before glancing at the couple again. “I can see the appeal. I bet he got her off first.”

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “Nah. That’s common courtesy. If a guy doesn’t take care of you first, then he’s an ass, and I want to know about it.”

  “You want to know if a guy gets me off?”

  The question makes him pause. It’s almost enough to give me hope that the feelings I’ve been harboring for him might actually be mutual.