Page 36 of King of Hollywood
“Maybe.” I hated him at my back, almost as much as I hated him at my front. God, he was ruining everything. If he didn’t hurry the fuck up I wasn’t going to finish cleaning my car—and then I’d have to do it tomorrow and I couldn’t do it tomorrow because I was going on a date with Felix—and—
“We’re looking for volunteers for the dunk booth.”
Oh lord no. No, no, no.
What had I done to deserve this torture?
Oh.
Right.
Fuck.
“Barry, with all due respect, I don’t have a single article of clothing in my wardrobe that I am comfortable “dunking”. I climbed back out of where I’d been bent inside my car, leveling him with my friendliest—fakest grin. “Italian leather, you see.” I kicked a leg out.
Go away, go away, go away.
“I’ll let you borrow something from me,” Barry grinned, not getting the hint whatsoever.
“No thank you.”
He frowned, brow pinched, before his expression smoothed. Leaning in close—oh dear god, the man liked garlic—“But, Marshall.”
Oh dear god. No.
No.
He was about to say something terrible wasn’t he?
He was going to bring out the C word.
The blasted C word.
“It’s for charity.”
I was two seconds from smashing my head through my windshield so I could leave this conversation.
But then…I didn’t have to.
“Hi, Barry.” Felix’s melodic voice popped up behind me. An adorable, exhausted-looking specter. I twisted to look at him, shocked to find him there at all. Glancing around, I realized the sun had set somewhere between Barry “swearing” at me, and accosting me in the first place.
Goddammit.
I wasn’t going to finish cleaning my car after all.
That thought quickly fled, however, as my attention turned to Felix. I’m sure my surprise must’ve been written all over my face, because his lips twitched—like he was trying not to smile.
He looked lovely tonight. A soft cashmere sweater in a ridiculous shade of pink. Crisp black trousers. A pair of smart black dress shoes that completed the ensemble. He was gorgeous. Or—he would be—if he’d take off the damn hat and glasses.
My fingers twitched, aching to reach out and yank them off his head so I could see that pretty fucking face.
I must’ve spaced out staring at Felix, because I missed half the conversation he and Barry had been having. I only tuned back in when Felix turned to me, eyes dancing above the lip of his sunglasses.
“Is that okay?”
“I…what?” I blinked, confused. Felix laughed, eyes crinkling in the way I was growing quite fond of.
“Is it okay if I take your spot in the dunk booth?”