Page 1 of Bossy Hero

Prologue

Alan - Age 21

My little brother snaps his fingers beside my face, annoying me like always. “Alan. Hey,Alan. Are you listening to me?”

My focus jerks away from my computer screen. “What do you want, you little shit turd?”

Daniel juts his lip into a pout. “Are you gonna be on that stupid thing all night?”

His begging doesn’t work on me like it does our parents. They’re suckers.

“What’s it to you?”

When I return my focus to my chat, the little shit hovers his extended index finger a few inches over my face. I bat it away. Twice.

He’s so fucking irritating. Our four-year difference might as well be a hundred.

“I’m so freaking bored. Let’s go see a movie or maybe go swimming.” He drags his palms down his cheeks, stretching his face longways. “I want to do something.Anything. I’m going stir crazy in here.”

I gesture an open palm toward the AOL chat room on the screen of my shiny new computer. “I’m talking to my friends. If you had friends, you could do the same. But you don’t. ’Cause you’re lame. Now, get out of my room before I whoop your ass again.”

He scoffs, flopping down on the beanbag chair in the corner. “Whatever.”

I should kick him out, but at least he’s being quiet. For once. After flipping him off, I return my attention to the screen and wait for Robbie’s reply.

Mom and Dad bought me a top-of-the-line home computer before leaving on yet another vacation. Without us. It’s a bribe to get me to watch Daniel. I was fourteen when they started leaving me alone. However, at seventeen, precious little Daniel is still too delicate.

Knowing why he’s that way does little to ease my irritation at always being his designated babysitter, whether I like it or not.

I almost had my folks talked into buying me a new car for my troubles this time. Perhaps next trip. They can afford it, and the gifts ease their guilt over being gone most of the time. It’s a win-win.

Daniel’s been pouting ever since I set up the computer a few days ago. Not sure why he’s so crabby about it since he got my old one. A hand-me-down computer is better than nothing.

Then again, it’s not like he can do much on it when I’m using the phone line. Plus, he’s not a social kid, so he’d probably just play Sims all day on it rather than interacting with other humans.

The two-note bloop sound crackles from the speaker, signaling my friend’s reply and spiking my heart rate. Robbie has another chat room open with a girl he met a few nights ago at the club. Apparently, she has a hot-as-hell friend.

I didn’t go out with my friends that night because Daniel was up my ass. Much like he is tonight.

Robbie got some action while I was playing fucking board games with my brother.

Not tonight, though.

Looks like I get to pick them up in about an hour. Since I have the keys to Dad’s Jaguar, getting some ass is practically a given. It’s a four-wheeled panty-dropper. One of the perks of being a rich kid with in-and-out parents.

Maybe I can bribe Daniel to stay the fuck in his room tonight when we get back with the girls. Robbie lives in the sketchy part of town, so his place is out of the question. No girl would put out in that shithole.

I type out my reply, then power down the computer. Jumping up from my desk, I scan my bedroom. A bit messy for company. In a mad rush, I dump all the soda cans and half-eaten bags of chips into the trash can, then straighten the comforter on my bed. Gathering up the dirty socks and a still-damp pair of swim trunks from the floor, I toss them in the hamper and sniff the air.

Shit. That’ll never do.

Darting into the hall bathroom, I return with a can of air freshener and blast the shit out of my room.

Daniel feigns coughing, waving his hand in front of his face. “Why are you cleaning? Olga will be here on Monday.”

I toss on a new shirt, then hit my chest and crotch with a few sprays of CK Eternity. “Yeah, but I’ve got plans tonight that involve another female in this room. Or maybe two. Who knows how this will go?”

“Oh really?” he asks, brows raised and a hint of hopefulness coloring his tone. “How many girls are coming here? And how old?”

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