Filmed: An Alpha Bad Boy Romance (City Series Book 3) (8 page)

BOOK: Filmed: An Alpha Bad Boy Romance (City Series Book 3)
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I
walked through the hallways of the student center, feeling nervous. I was a few minutes early, but I still felt like I was somehow late. I always felt that way when going somewhere for the first time, especially for a job or something; I was constantly afraid I’d somehow screw up and get impossibly lost. Fortunately, I found the staircase without a hitch, and walked into the theater’s lobby.

I found Miss Havisham leaning over the box office counter and talking quietly to Chelsea. I was reminded again how Chelsea was always behind that window, and I’d never seen her beyond it. I was starting to think she was a puppet or a really lifelike robot. I decided I’d share that theory with Noah later.

“Hi, Miss Havisham,” I said as I approached. “Hi, Chelsea.”

Miss H stood up straight and smiled wide. She was wearing a long black skirt, down to her ankles, and what was something like ten shawls all piled on top of each other. It was a bizarre and multicolored outfit, although really comfy and warm-looking.

“Linda! How are you tonight?”

“I’m good, excited to get started.”

“Fantastic. I have your uniform shirt over in the office if you want to go put it on. Drop your bag behind here.” She gestured toward the back of the box office. Chelsea gave me a bashful smile.

Great. I knew I had to wear a uniform shirt, or at least I knew everyone else did. For some reason, I was hoping I would be the exception. I was not.

“Will do, thanks,” I said. She smiled then went back to chatting with Chelsea as I placed my bag near a pile of other coats and backpacks, and then entered her office. Inside, I found the shirt wrapped in plastic lying on her desk. I tore it open and slipped it over my head. It fit, although it was a bit too big. I felt a little ridiculous and uncomfortable, but it could have been worse. I could have had to sing every time somebody gave me a tip like the workers at those fancy ice cream places.

I came back out into the lobby and saw Miss Havisham standing near the concession stand, talking to Noah. My breath caught in my chest as I stared at him. He looked perfect for some reason, his uniform shirt unbuttoned two buttons, and his tattoo peeking out. His hair was messy in a good way, and he stood with an easy confidence and grace. He was smiling at whatever Miss Havisham had said, and when I caught his eye he gave me a small nod. I walked slowly over to them, imagining Noah sliding my pink polka dot panties off my goose-bumpcovered skin, and realized that I was wearing the exact pair.

“Hey, Linda,” he said as I approached, emphasizing my name. I was immediately snapped back to reality.

“Hi, Noah,” I replied.

“Linda, Noah is going to walk you through everything today. I know you have experience, but it’ll just be easier if you stick with him for tonight,” Miss Havisham said.

“Okay, sounds good.”

I didn’t necessarily want to shadow Noah all night, but it was probably better than hanging out with Chuck and Mikey, who I began to call “the Wonder Twins” since they were always together back behind the concession stand. They seemed like nice guys, but they were incredibly goofy. While Miss Havisham was talking to Noah, they were busy trying to throw popcorn into each other’s mouths again. I had no clue why Miss Havisham didn’t seem to mind, but they loudly cheered whenever they caught a kernel. I knew I’d like them immediately, but that they’d be a little too much for me to handle in large doses.

“Good luck!” Miss Havisham said, and she walked off to her office, shutting the door behind her.

“We probably won’t see her again until closing,” Noah said, suddenly standing close. I looked at him and realized all over again why I had been obsessing. He really was gorgeous.

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

He shrugged. “She usually shuts herself up in there and doesn’t come out until we’re closing the registers.”

“What does she do in there all night?”

“No clue. My personal theory is she’s summoning demons.”

I laughed, taken aback by his response. “Like, as if she were a witch?”

“Yeah, something like that. It’s all the shawls, makes me think she’s into Voodoo or Wicca or something.”

I grinned, imagining her lighting candles and chanting in her tiny room.

“I don’t know,” I said. “She’s probably watching old videos of her acting.”

Noah laughed. “Yeah I would totally buy that.”

We grinned, standing close to each other, and I had the irrational desire to grab his hand. Not to do anything weird, but just to hold it. I’d never felt like that around someone before. I had felt like punching someone, or pushing them, or even giving them a hug, but never grabbing their hand just to touch it. For a brief moment, I felt a strange shiver run down my spine.

“Okay dots, you’ll be taking tickets tonight,” he said, breaking the short silence.

“What happened to using my real name?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

“Only around the management.” He grinned.

“By the way, I brought my notes.” I gestured over toward the box office.

“Cool, thanks. I appreciate it.” He started to walk over toward the theaters, and I followed him.

“We don’t get busy for another hour, but it shouldn’t be too bad tonight. Think you’re up for it?” he asked, stopping and facing me.

“I’m definitely up for it,” I said.

“Yeah, I thought you would be.” He grinned, and I wasn’t sure he was talking about work anymore.

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W
e spent most of our time before the crowds arrived going over procedures—what to do with the ticket stubs, what to do if someone didn’t have a ticket, stuff like that. It wasn’t anything new, but it was good to have a refresher. Tearing tickets was probably the easiest job in a movie theater, which was probably why he had me doing it. He walked me through the actual theaters themselves, and talked a little bit about them.

I was impressed by his technical knowledge, although I knew I shouldn’t be. His father was a hotshot movie producer, and he was a film major. We bantered back and forth some more, and although everything seemed to take a sexual turn, I found myself blushing and laughing instead of getting annoyed. There was something about his charm that I was finding hard to resist, even if he was being a total jerk.

I was reminded all over again how easy talking to Noah was. Even when he was going over boring routine stuff, he still managed to crack a joke and make things seem natural. Being close to him for so long made my heart hammer in my chest. I began to forget about the drama, about the secret feud between our parents, about his bad reputation, and enjoyed being near him.

Eventually, the crowds started showing up, and I got down to work. It wasn’t exactly difficult, tearing tickets, and I quickly fell into a routine. Once the crowds passed through, and the films started, Noah and I met up and went over the logistical stuff while the Wonder Twins continued to basically do whatever they wanted behind the concession stand. I didn’t see or hear much from Chelsea, which pretty much reinforced my theory about her.

Soon, we fell into a rhythm of taking care of ticketing and cleaning between films, and the boring logistical stuff during shows. Noah walked me through everything, and was surprisingly patient and thorough for a guy who seemed not to give a shit about anything but himself, or at least that was his reputation. The night sped by that way, Noah and I working in tandem.

Finally, the last showing let out, and we went through the theaters together, sweeping up dropped popcorn and throwing away drinks. People always wondered why movie theaters had sticky floors, and I could say confidently it’s because the workers don’t get paid enough to really scrub, and the patrons don’t care what they drop onto the ground.

That first night, I found three dollars, a pair of sunglasses, a half-eaten orange, and an open condom wrapped, but strangely no condom. Noah laughed and said he once found a set of false teeth. I didn’t believe him, but he swore it was true.

We worked in tandem, sweeping up and spraying down the seats with industrial Febreeze. We started with the smallest theater, and ended with the largest. All told, it took us about an hour, although we weren’t exactly thorough in our cleaning. The place was still new, and it hadn’t gotten much traffic yet, so we felt pretty confident in letting it slide a bit. At the end of the night, Noah and I collapsed into the front row, sitting side by side, our cleaning supplies forgotten on the floor in the aisle.

“Well, your first shift is done. How was it?” he asked me.

I shrugged, looking up at the giant silver screen. “It was okay, I guess. About what I expected.”

“Yeah, working in a movie theater is pretty much the same everywhere.”

“Except most places don’t have a crazy manager like Miss H. What’s with her name, anyway?”

Noah laughed. “I’m pretty sure it’s a stage name.”

“Really? Huh. That makes sense.”

“Speaking of names, why did your parents call you ‘Linda’?”

I looked at him sideways, trying to size him up. “What kind of question is that?”

He grinned, and could probably tell that I was suspicious. “I mean you no harm, promise. I just like to hear the story behind people’s name, sometimes.”

I nodded, appeased for the time being. I was constantly on guard for when he would decide to be a dick again.

“Well, my mom named me after Linda Blair.”

He gaped at me, obviously recognizing the name.

“You’re fucking kidding me?”

I laughed and nodded. “Yep, crazy, right?”

“Your mom named you after the girl from
The Exorcist
! She practically named you after Satan himself.”

Noah howled with laugher, and I grinned at him. I had heard it all before, but it felt particularly funny coming from him, though I wasn’t sure why. For whatever reason, my mom was an enormous fan of
The Exorcist
, and got it into her head that she would name her first girl after the main character. Unfortunately for me, my father didn’t have much of an opinion one way or the other, and so I was stuck with the name of the possessed girl’s actress, Linda Blair.

“What about your name?” I asked him, once his laughter died down.

He shrugged, looking up at the screen. I studied him in profile, and my breath caught in my chest. It struck me again how handsome he was, and doubly so in the half-dark of the theater, looking up at the enormous screen with a strange, faraway expression.

“My mom liked it.”

“Where’s your mom now?” I asked.

“Died of cancer when I was pretty young.”

I turned white, immediately regretting asking him about his mother. I should have been more tactful, but I had simply assumed his parents were divorced. So many Hollywood kids came from divorced parents.

“I’m sorry Noah, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s okay. Happened a while ago.” He was looking off into the middle distance, and I would have given anything in that moment to be inside his head.

“Did your dad ever re-marry?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

He laughed at that, and came back into the moment. We locked eyes and I imagined, maybe for the hundredth time, what his lips tasted like.

“After my mom died, maybe a few months later, my dad started his endless string of girlfriends.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, basically, if you’re halfway decent looking, connected, and rich, it’s pretty easy to find a certain kind of girl to date you. My dad has probably gone through a few hundred of them over the years.”

Gross. Like father, like son. Noah didn’t exactly have a nice, wholesome family background. I guess that made sense. Most Hollywood kids were a little messed up somehow; my mom always said it took a special kind of ego to get involved with the film industry.

I wasn’t sure what that meant for the people that studied movies, but I never said that to her.

“It must have been hard,” I said.

“Yeah, at first it was. It’s tough for a young kid to realize that not every girl Daddy brings home is going to be his new mommy.” He shrugged ruefully and I wanted to touch his face, but resisted. “Eventually I got used to it.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“It’s in the past.” He grinned at me.

I was a little surprised at his honesty. I halfway expected him to make a joke, maybe say he was jealous of his dad, but there was something emotionally insecure in his response that made me shift my weight toward him.

He smiled back at me. Things had been comfortable between us all night; he had kept the perverted jokes to a minimum, and I didn’t spend too much time imagining his hands running along my bare hips. For the first time since we sat together by the bell tower, I felt like he actually gave a shit about me as a person, and I wasn’t just another girl in his own infinite string.

“Listen, Noah,” I began, hesitating. He cocked his head at me.

“What’s up?”

I felt unsure of myself. He clearly had a complicated relationship with his father, and I thought that maybe bringing up my mother could do more harm than good. Then again, it was important everything was out in the air. At least, it was important to me. I hated living with secrets, and if there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it was a liar.

“I talked to my mom about your dad,” I said.

“Oh yeah? What did she say?” he said, grinning. I took a deep breath, nervous.

“Apparently, they had some kind of feud, back in the day.”

Noah nodded his head and leaned his body toward me. I could smell his minty breath. He had never been that close before, and my mind suddenly drew a blank.

“I know. What about it?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m not sure,” I stuttered.

He gave me a breathtaking half smile, and before I could say anything further, he leaned forward and kissed me.

At first, I was shocked. Noah Carterson, gorgeous bad boy, was kissing me in an empty movie theater. But after half a second, I relaxed into him, and our mouths parted, his soft tongue grazing mine. He tasted perfect, like mint and flowers and spring, and I melted into his soft lips. He reached out and touched my face softly, and I felt a hunger well up inside of me. I imagined going down on him, right there, in the front row of the theater. I wanted his hard body more than anything in that moment, and any hesitation was forgotten. It felt right, like the steam from a kettle.

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