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

by Hamel, B. B.

  I stared at it for a second, at a loss. I hadn’t planned on actually talking to him. I clicked his name and the window popped back up.

  Noah: Don’t be so sensitive, dots. It’s a compliment that I keep thinking about your underwear.

  He could be such an asshole. And yet I was blushing, and my heart began to pound. He hadn’t been so direct before, and always skirted outright saying what he meant. I guessed talking online gave him a little extra confidence, or at least he wasn’t afraid of me punching him in the nose.

  Me: Keep it up and I’m going to pour popcorn over your head at work.

  Noah: I welcome that. I love popcorn.

  Me: Not when you get that fake butter stuff in your hair.

  Noah: Don’t assume. I love fake butter, too.

  I couldn’t help but smile. He was fast, and always seemed to have a comeback prepared. That was something I liked about Noah: he was clearly smart, sharp, and funny. He could be a total jerk sometimes, but I had to admit that I did like sparring with him. I hadn’t met too many guys that could keep up with me, let alone guys that held their own. Noah was a rare breed. I just wished he would stop calling me “dots.”

  Me: Okay then, we’ll find out.

  Noah: Looking forward to it. What are you up to?

  Me: Not much. Just got back from lunch with my mom. You?

  Suddenly, I felt awkward about having mentioned my mom. What if he knew about his dad and my mom? Noah was into the whole film community, and so it wouldn’t be super unlikely that he had heard her name, and he could have put two and two together since I last asked him about our parents. I wasn’t sure how I felt about any of it, let alone how it affected Noah and I. Truthfully, it shouldn’t change the way I saw him at all. But I couldn’t help but imagine my poor mother, kicked out of her dream career because of some petty movie producer.

  Noah: Not much. Killing time in the library.

  Me: That’s pretty cool, you’re such a good student.

  Noah: Nah, not really, dots. Feel like doing something?

  That took me by surprise. Noah wanted to hang out with me again? What was with that guy? One second I was insulting him, and the next he was pretending like it never happened, and everything was cool. I shook my head in disbelief. I did want to see him, and it wasn’t like I had anything better to do. As I began to type back to him, I suddenly stopped and stared at the screen.

  The story my mom had told me, mixed with the pictures of all those girls he was trying to pick up, or whatever he was doing with them, suddenly burrowed themselves into my mind. I imagined trying to sit there with him and not say something about what his dad did to my mom, and I couldn’t. I knew that I’d have to confront him about it, especially since I had just found out about it less than an hour or two ago. I doubted Noah was the type to take that sort of thing very well; he’d probably storm off, and our working relationship would be awful. I couldn’t just attack the guy. He may not even know what had happened. And plus, like my mom said, it was all in the past. I should give Noah a chance.

  Or should I? It wasn’t like he was hurting for company. Confused and a little bit angry, I slammed my laptop lid shut, putting it to sleep. From his end, he’d see the little dot next to my name disappear, and I’d never respond. I groaned and resisted the urge to throw my laptop across the room. I stopped myself, deciding that I shouldn’t take my own indecisiveness out on my computer. It was completely innocent, after all.

  Frustrated and confused, I retreated into my bedroom to read. Instead, I floated between book and daydream, worrying over how Noah would react to my non-response, and wondering why I even cared. I didn’t owe him anything.

  Then again, I couldn’t stop thinking about him imagining my underwear, either.

  Chapter Eight

  Eventually, Chris came home, and I full-on assaulted her with the details of the day. I spared nothing, beginning with my mom’s story, and ending with my conversation with Noah. As usual, she listened patiently, and by the end I felt a little bit better. Even if I hadn’t answered any of my own questions, it was a good stress release to have it all out in the open.

  “Seems like a pickle,” Chris said slowly once I was done.

  “You’re not kidding,” I said, laughing.

  “Well, no. I said, seems like, but it really isn’t.”

  That wasn’t what I expected. “What do you mean?”

  She sighed and leaned back in her chair. We were perched around the kitchen table eating macaroni and cheese for dinner, which was our go-to comfort food for whenever one of us was in a bad mood. I loved that she sacrificed her calories for the greater good, or at least for my sanity.

  “Your mom said it herself. You can’t blame him for what his dad did.”

  “Yeah, I know that. But he’s such an asshole. How can I know he didn’t pick that up from his dad?”

  “I get what you’re saying, but there’s a difference between being a jerk and giving you an annoying nickname, and sabotaging someone’s career.”

  She had a pretty good point there. “But what about the rumors? All the girls in his Facebook pictures?”

  She shrugged and shook her head. “I really have no idea. If it helps, Selena is usually full of shit.”

  I laughed. Selena did strike me as someone who loved gossip, and I probably couldn’t trust half of what she said.

  “And plus,” Chris continued before I could respond. “Why does that even matter? So what if he’s been with some other girls?”

  “I’m not really looking to be a one and done, Chris,” I said.

  “True, but he seems like he’s actually into you.”

  That made me pause. “What about all of this makes you think that?”

  “He keeps trying to hang out with you. He’s obviously flirting.”

  I shook my head. “He’s just like that. I’m sure he asked out ten other girls before me earlier.”

  She sighed and took a big bite of her food. “I don’t know, honestly. You could be right, and he could be the evil offspring of an evil asshole.”

  I groaned and threw my head back. “So you see my frustration!”

  She laughed. “And you see why I don’t date.”

  I grinned and took a big bite. Even if she was sometimes a little blunt and calculating, Chris had a way of making me feel better.

  “Why don’t you just, I don’t know, ask him about it?”

  “He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who has deep conversations about his family with near-strangers.”

  “That’s fair. But this is my advice anyway: talk to him about it. Worst-case scenario, he tells you to fuck off, and what’s done is done. But maybe you’ll want to hear what he has to say.”

  I nodded and chewed thoughtfully. She had a pretty good point. It wasn’t like I was going to lose anything. Noah and I didn’t exactly have a relationship. And I wasn’t even sure that was something I wanted. More than anything, I didn’t want work to become a nightmare of drama. Still, if I didn’t ask him, I’d constantly wonder, and probably act weird.

  What was better: quietly suffering, or risk seeming like a psycho?

  The weekend flew by after that. I spent most of my time studying, trying to keep up with my classes. My social life was beginning to suffer already, but there was nothing I could do about that. I promised I’d make more time for fun stuff the following weekend.

  Finally, Monday came, and I felt nervous as I made my way to my film history class. I’d probably see Noah, and I had no clue if he’d sit next to me again or not. He might have been annoyed that I blew him off the other day. Or maybe he was too busy with any of his other conquests to even notice. Worried, I pushed through the door and walked into the classroom.

  I let out a sigh of relief. Noah wasn’t there yet. I hadn’t expected him to be, since I was about ten minutes early and he never showed up until the last minute, but for some irrational reason I was afraid I’d have to choose whether to sit next to him or not. Fortunately, I g
ot a prime seat toward the front of the room.

  The class slowly filled up, and Professor Johnson began to set up for his lecture. I craned my neck toward the doorway, but Noah was nowhere to be seen. As Professor Johnson began his lecture, I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach.

  The period crawled by as a thousand different thoughts ran through my mind. Was Noah skipping because I had blown him off? Or was he sick? Maybe he was too busy getting his rocks off with some slut he met over the weekend. Midway through the lecture, I realized I had barely paid any attention. I was too busy obsessing about what Noah may or may not be doing, and I wasn’t exactly being generous, either. Feeling a little bad, I buckled down and took decent notes for the last half of the class.

  Finally, the lecture was over, and I began to pack up my stuff. On a whim, I pulled out my phone, opened my Facebook app, and checked my messages. To my surprise, there was one glowing red notification. I tapped the screen and read Noah’s name. Butterflies leapt into my stomach.

  Noah: Hey dots, can’t make it to class today. Could I borrow your notes tonight at work? Thanks...

  I hadn’t expected to hear from him, but I felt relieved for some reason. It meant that he hadn’t skipped class because of me. I realized I was being a little silly; Noah doesn’t plan his life around me. I typed him a quick message back, hit send, and put my phone away. I put a reminder in my phone to bring my notes with me to work, gathered my stuff up, and then left the classroom. Suddenly, I wasn’t dreading my first night at the theater anymore. In fact, I was finally looking forward to something.

  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.

  We 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 thing
s 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.