Page 45 of My Vigilante Valentine

“I kinda do this thing where I become obsessed with a certain type of food, and then I’ll eat it every day. But then—after an indeterminate amount of time—I’m so sick of it that I swear I’ll never eat it again.”

So many slow blinks I lost count.

“And what about mac and cheese?” he asked, jerking his chin toward an old chalkboard menu against the back wall.

On it, one of our seasonal illustrations advertised our mac and cheese as the ultimate cozy comfort food for students living far from home.

I shook my head like he’d insinuated the impossible. “Not the case with my macs. My mom’s recipe—the one I serve here—is part of a core memory. I’ll never get sick of eating it.”

“I see.”

“So,anywho…” I said, steepling my fingers, “You know what all this super secret serum stuff means, right?”

“I’m scared to ask.”

I snorted, fully expecting a response like that. “It means I’m the Robin to your Batman.”

“That’s DC, not Marvel.”

I held up my hands. “Hey, you’re the expert. Superhero, and all.”

Jax groaned, running a hand through his hair like he was trying to erase my words from his brain. “Please stop saying that.”

Which, of course, guaranteed I would not.

“No, no, no,” I said, stepping closer, practically vibrating with the excitement of lightening the mood. “This is huge. Like, origin story huge. Now, all you need is a theme song. Wait, do you already have one?”

He glared at me, and it was a glare designed to wither souls.

I must be immune.

“No,” he clipped.

I tapped my chin, ignoring his lack of enthusiasm. “We should probably work on that. Maybe something with dramatic drums.Ooh, or violins. Small and sad ones.”

“Luna,” he warned, but there was a hint of amusement, or maybe fondness, and I took the W.

Grinning wider, I stepped into his space. “Fine, no song. But do you at least have a lair?”

His eyes closed briefly, like he was counting to ten. And then, he opened one eye, fixing me with a look that screamedWhy are you like this?

And honestly, I didn’t have an answer. But I was having way too much fun to care.

And the best part was? He looked like he was having fun, too, and that was the goal.

“See? Superhero life doesn’t have to be all scary and dangerous all the time. Think about how much fun we could have.”

Jax looked like he was teetering on the brink of a mental breakdown. There was interest—no doubt about it—but therewas also a deeply ingrained need to maintain his broody aesthetic.

His struggle was clearly real.

“If I give you this,” he growled, reaching into his jacket pocket and fishing out the phone from the night before, “will you stop calling me a superhero?”

I glanced at the phone, then at him, gifting him a satisfied smile.

“Deal,” I chirped, snatching it from his hand with a speed hewishedthat serum had given him. “Told you thatmaybewas ayes.”

He watched me, his expression hovering somewhere between amusement and defeat as a faint twitch passed over his lips.

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