Page 51 of King of Hollywood
Does he like chicken? God, I hope so. That’s the only thing I know how to make.
Brow furrowed, I offered Felix the last of my bucket of cotton candy. He shook his head, but gave my hand a squeeze instead of taking the treat. “No thank you,” Felix said softly. “I’m full.”
Full of shit.
He hadn’t eaten anything all night.
I struggled with the container, trying to get it open without dropping his cat. Then I popped a bite into my mouth, chewing it pointedly in his direction with one of my brows arched.
Felix’s laughter once again echoed through the night. This time was louder than before, less masked. I could tell the difference. I could recognize it in the way his shoulders relaxed, in the way his throat bobbed, in the crinkle at the corner of his eyes and the way his dimples appeared.
The distance between us began to close, inch by inch.
There were only a handful of cars left in the parking lot. Mine was at the edge because I didn’t mind walking, and despite running late, I hadn’t trusted the plebeians that populated Beach Town not to scratch it. The people who parked at the back of the lot tended to be more careful, they gave more space.
“Where are you parked?” I glanced around, eager to see what car Felix drove—only to be—oh.
Oh.
Completely fucking stalled when he gently tugged me toward a vintage 1955 Studebaker Lark. It was…Jesus god, it was gorgeous. I’d always been a car guy. It was one of the things I’d inherited from my dad, along with my appreciation for sweater vests and my general hate for any and all people.
“This is yours?” I dropped my cotton candy bucket, pressing close to the vehicle with hearts in my eyes. “It’s…”
“Pretty, right?” Felix hummed, voice obviously pleased. I twisted to look at him in disbelief.
“Pretty is what you’d call a chapel, or a potluck table at a barbecue. Pretty is for the flowers I gave you—or a newborn calf standing for the first time.” I scoffed. “This is not pretty. This is…wow. This is gorgeous.”
“Gorgeous?” Felix repeated, obviously amused at my expense again.
Shithead.
“Majestic.”
I couldn’t even be mad because apparently Felix was gorgeous and had a gorgeous car—and wow. Yes. Yes, yes, yes.
I’ll marry him, I decided suddenly, thinking back on his recent question.
If I got this car in the bargain, I’ll marry him tomorrow.
“Marshall,” Felix laughed, leaning against the vehicle, his head tipped so I could see beneath the shadow cast over his eyes. They almost seemed to glow even in the dark, maybe especially then. I knew it was my eyes playing tricks on me—as I was currently half blind after witnessing one of the Seven Wonders of the World.
“What?” I asked, though I was paying more attention to the frankly magnificent shade of turquoise the exterior paint coating the car was.
“Would you like to drive it?”
Yes.
Yes.
I was marrying Felix.
I was marrying him, secrets be damned.
Chapter eleven
Ididn’t kiss Felix. And I didn’t get to use the condoms Winnie gave me. Not that I was ready for that, as we’ve already established. They sat in my pocket, a silent promise that while tonight was not the night, someday…it would be. The thought should’ve frightened me—because it was new, and scary, and foreign—but it didn’t.
It felt right.