Page 42 of King of Hollywood

Beach Town was small but cluttered. We had every shop we needed, and then some. The streets were lined with cheery street lamps. And ivy dripped down houses and the lovely mom-and-pop shops that lined the streets.

As I drove, I passed by the building where The Club often met. Allen was outside, and he waved at me as I passed. For a moment I worried I’d missed a meeting—but I hadn’t gotten the group text about it, so I was certain he must be there on other important business.

Beach Town was exactly the kind of town you wouldn’t expect to be filled with serial killers. It was picture perfect from the outside, all sunny smiles, shiny buildings, and community.

I’d done my best to fit in here—as was the purpose of a chameleon.

And I thought I’d done a rather good job.

I didn’t hate my work. I didn’t hate my boss. I hated my neighbors—but they really only bothered me during the summer. Everyone knew me as Marshall the grump, and I was fine with that. I understood them and their need to gossip. I understood how the world worked here, and the social hierarchy inside it—all suburban moms who jogged in the morning, and PTA dads.

What I didn’t understand was Felix.

Why he’d moved here when he so clearly didn’t fit in.

He was not trying to fly under the radar like I was—unless of course…he was.

More confusing than Felix’s decision to live in bum-fuck-nowhere, was the fact that he was so determined to help me.

Perhaps he felt he owed me? After I’d helped him.

Or maybe he…liked me.

That thought made me giddy.

Either way, I was just genuinely excited to spend time with him. Which was not a feeling I had ever felt about someone else before.

I didn’t understand, but…I supposed I didn’t have to.

At the end of the day, why he did what he did was none of my business unless he wanted to share it with me. Until then, I was going to brave the crowds, and do my best to woo him off his pretty—because every part of him was obviously pretty—feet.

Maybe if we went on enough dates he’d be willing to share some of his secrets with me?

A man could dream.

It took me quite some time to find the dunk booth. Not because it was very well hidden or because Beach Town’s annual summer carnival was very big (it wasn’t), but because I had stepped on a piece of gum on my way through the front gate.

I tried to ignore it for a while, determined to find Felix before he valiantly braved icy water for me—but with every step I took, I could imagine the gum sinking deeper and deeper into the grooves at the bottom of my loafers. I barely managed a few yards before I gave up and bolted back to my car where I kept my wet wipes in the trunk.

When I returned back through the gates of the carnival, ashamed, the teller who had sold me my ticket was laughing at me.

I growled at her, and she balked. Her laughter stopped entirely as I marched my way past the ticket selling booth and headed deeper into the crowd. Served her right. The fair was so loud. It had too many people. Too many sounds. Too many smells. Too many lights.

Why had I agreed to this?

Because he’s doing it for you, my mind helpfully supplied.

Because he saved you.

Because cotton candy, Marshall.

Perhaps…Felix deserved a little loyalty in return. My small inner bitch reminded me that I’d disposed of two bodies for him—and maybe that was enough loyalty, but I quickly squashed that voice down.

The truth was…I liked Felix. I had come to terms with liking Felix. I wanted to spend more time with him, and if—my head swiveled, watching a gaggle of teens perform what looked like an odd, jerky mating dance in front of a selfie stick—dealing with idiots was the price I had to pay, I would do it.

Grudgingly.

But I’d do it.