Filmed: An Alpha Bad Boy Romance (City Series Book 3) (13 page)

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” I said vaguely, a bit surprised. It was strange that Chuck was defending him, especially considering he had to work twice as hard to make up for Noah’s absence. As far as I could tell, Noah was nothing but a pain in everyone’s ass, and very occasionally a good employee.

I gave Chuck a wave and headed back toward the supply closet. Noah had gone in a few minutes before, and I was already wondering why he hadn’t come out. Maybe everyone else was willing to let him do whatever he wanted, but I wasn’t about to give in to his bullshit. He may have made my heart pound every time he stood near, and gave me one of the best orgasms of my life, but I still had to work with him. He was charming and tall and strong, but that didn’t mean he could mess around.

I pushed open the supply closet door and was immediately assaulted by a thick cloud of pungent weed smoke.

“Holy shit,” I said, waving my hand in front of my face as the door shut behind me.

“What’s up, dots?”

I stared, open mouthed, as Noah sat on a small step stool, taking a hit of a joint.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I said, pissed beyond belief. Not only had he skipped out on everyone, but he decided to get high, too? That was beyond unacceptable.

He looked around like I was talking to someone else.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You can’t smoke in here, let alone smoke pot.”

He laughed. “Calm yourself, dots. It’s just a little weed.”

“What if someone smelled it?”

“Everyone is in those theaters for the next two hours. The smell will be long gone by then.”

He stood up and stretched, taking another deep hit.

“Oh my god, Noah, put that shit out.”

Shrugging, he licked his fingers then pinched the end. He pulled a plastic bag from his back pocket, dropped the pinched joint in, and slipped it away.

“You are unbelievable,” I said, practically shaking with fury.

“Calm down, dots. I do this all the time.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, this is so fucking stupid. And where did you go earlier?”

He stepped closer to me, his eyes suddenly intense. “You look fucking cute when you’re angry.”

I stepped back, putting more distance between us. I wasn’t letting him charm his way out of anything.

“Answer me, where did you go?”

“I had some shit to take care of.”

“So that’s fine, you can just run off and skip out on work? Smoke some weed in the supply closet?”

He shook his head. “I’ve had a bad night, dots. I don’t need this from you.”

“You’ve had a bad night? Poor baby, must be rough smoking whenever you feel like it, and coming and going as you please.”

I was pissed. He was so spoiled and entitled, and such an asshole. And he was trying to defend himself too, which only made it worse. I couldn’t believe I was hung up on him, when he was nothing but a rich jerk. He may have been beautiful, but he was beyond frustrating.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, dots.”

He suddenly looked sad, and it surprised me for a second. I almost wanted to apologize. But I wasn’t the one in the wrong. I wasn’t the one smoking up the supply closet and skipping out on work.

“Stop calling me that, Noah.”

He sighed, and looked away. I couldn’t read the expression on his face, but his body was tense.

“Fine,
Linda
. I’m getting back to work.”

I almost said something mean, something I would have regretted, but the look on his face made me bite my tongue. He moved past me, his shoulder brushing against mine, and he stepped out into the lobby. The smoke dissipated, scattering out into the theater’s ventilation system, and I hoped none of the customers would notice it.

I sat down on the stool, shaking with anger and confusion. I couldn’t believe him. I knew he had a bad reputation, I knew he did some shit that I didn’t necessarily agree with, but I didn’t realize he was out and out irresponsible. Missing class began to make sense: he was a flake, a player, and he did whatever he wanted. It wasn’t like I cared about smoking weed. Everyone knew that wasn’t a huge deal. But smoking on the job, and leaving all the work to your friends, that wasn’t right. I thought we were beginning to have something, and then he decided to take advantage of me.

All so he could get a little fucked up.

It took me a few minutes to get myself under control. Finally, though, the frustration and the anger subsided into a dull ache. Pushing out of the supply closet and moving out into the lobby, I vowed not to give him any more notes from our class, and I wasn’t going to cover for him again. Let him figure his shit out on his own. I was done doing favors for him if he was just going to skip out on me during the busiest times.

I went back to work, and ignored Noah the best I could. It was easy, since he was clearly not too happy with me. We orbited each other for the rest of the night, doing our jobs, and only interacting when we absolutely had to. Chuck and Mikey kept throwing each other exaggerated looks, and I could only imagine what sort of jokes they were making about us, but I didn’t care. I was sick to death of Noah Carterson, of his drama and his mystery, especially if he was going to fuck me over.

The night dragged on. It was uncomfortable at first, but I quickly learned to adapt. Noah didn’t disappear again, although he didn’t seem particularly motivated to get much done. He helped out, but he was lazy about it, and he kept stealing snacks from the concession stand. Chuck and Mikey thought it was hilarious; even Chelsea didn’t seem to mind much. During the last show, I stood outside of the box office, leaning against the glass and watching Noah throw popcorn at Chuck. I let out an annoyed huff.

“They can be real idiots, huh?” Chelsea asked me.

“You’re not kidding.”

“They’re just going to have to clean all that up, anyway.”

“Noah will probably leave early and make me do it,” I grumbled.

“Trouble in paradise?”

I looked in at her, and she was grinning at me.

“What do you mean?”

“Noah told me about you guys.”

I looked at her, surprised. Noah had talked about me? As far as I knew, there was nothing to tell.

“What did he say?”

She cocked her head at me. “Just that he’s been trying to see more of you. Like, you guys might be a thing, or whatever.”

We might be a thing or whatever? He hadn’t said any of that to me. In fact, he hadn’t talked to me about him and I at all, never even bothered to bring it up. But he was talking to Chelsea about it? I had to admit, as pissed as I was at him, I was pretty confused. And I was partially elated. He wanted to have something with me, whatever that meant. I figured it had to be something more than just hooking up, or else he wouldn’t bother telling someone about it.

“Oh yeah, totally,” I said, trying to be evasive. “Are you two close?”

She shrugged. “We’ve been friends ever since he helped tutor me in math last year. He’s how I got this job, actually.”

“Noah tutored you in math?” I honestly didn’t believe her.

She laughed. “Yeah, he did. Despite what everyone says about him, he’s actually pretty smart.”

I grinned. “I thought the tattoos made him a little slow.”

“Oh, they did. He was a genius before he got inked.”

I laughed. “I have to ask, what else did he say about me?

“He can be a little mysterious, can’t he?”

“Yeah. And an asshole.”

“He can definitely be an asshole,” she said, smiling. “Look, you’ll have to ask him if you want to know.”

“Okay, thanks. I understand.”

“But, I will say that you should cut him some slack. He’s not such a bad guy, underneath all the pot smoke and tattoos.”

I sighed, watching him toss a kernel into the air and catch it in his perfectly formed mouth. Every once in a while, when his guard was down, Noah gave me a glimpse into the person he might actually be. They were small moments, spread far apart, but they were there and they were important. I was pissed at him, but I didn’t hate him. I knew there was something more going on, but I was getting tired of having to work to strip off the extra layers of narrative and image to get at the core of him.

“I will. Thanks, Chelsea.”

She smiled. “Any time.”

I stood up to go, giving her a smile.

“Hey, stop by here more often,” she said before I could walk off. “I’m bored as shit in here.”

I laughed and promised I would. I moved across the lobby, heading toward the projection room to make sure everything was running smoothly. As I walked by, Noah gave me a little half smile, and it didn’t make me want to smack him in the face. That was progress.

The rest of the night flew by. I had plenty to obsess about to keep my mind off of the boredom of work. I kept avoiding Noah, and he kept his distance, but I felt the cold ache of anger begin to subside. As I began to do the final sweep of the theaters, I felt like a teenager, trying to read signs that might not have been there, and hanging on every little thing he said.

Everyone seemed to think that I should cut him a break, but that wasn’t my style. I needed him to live up to my expectations. I didn’t want to have to stoop; I didn’t want to have to settle for half of him. I needed everything, his layers stripped away.

The night ended, and we left as a group, just like last time. I hung with Chuck, joking about some stupid show we’d both watched over the last weekend, and Noah was talking to Chelsea again. We got to the same spot we had all split up at last time, and again I headed out toward my apartment alone while Noah spoke to Chelsea in low tones.

I didn’t get far before I heard him. I knew I’d hear him. My heart began to race, and part of me wanted to run, to get away from whatever he was going to say, to forget him and move on. But I couldn’t. For as much of an asshole Noah Carterson was, I couldn’t seem to force myself away from him.

“Hey, wait up dots,” he called out. I turned and faced him, hands on my hips.

“What do you want?”

He stopped in front of me and frowned. His usual cocky half grin was gone. There was something serious about him, something bare.

“I’m sorry, Linda.”

I blinked. Did he just use my real name? I didn’t even have to hit him.

“You should be,” I said, a little off guard.

“I was a huge asshole earlier. I should have told you what was going on instead of ditching out. I shouldn’t have assumed it would be okay.”

I shook my head. “No, you shouldn’t have assumed.”

“I want to explain myself,” he said. I couldn’t believe how serious he was being. There wasn’t a single joke at my expense, not even a meaningful look at my chest.

“Fine, explain while we walk.” I started off toward my apartment, and he quickly fell in step with me.

“Remember that girl I was with the other week?”

“Stripper Barbie?”

He suppressed a grin. “Yeah, her.”

“What about her?”

“Like I told you, she’s been going through some shit. I can’t really say what, since it’s not my place, but I got a call from her roommate.”

I frowned. That was true, he had told me that he was helping her through something.

“And it was something only you could have helped with?” I asked.

“I know you’re skeptical. I don’t blame you. But it’s the truth, otherwise I wouldn’t have ditched out on you.”

I made a face, confused. “Fine, maybe I can forgive you for leaving to help a friend, but that doesn’t excuse the pot.”

He nodded. “I know. The shit with Ellie, it’s hard to deal with. Smoking weed is better than popping the pills my dad’s been shoving down my throat since I was a kid.”

I furrowed my brow. All of that was hard to believe, but definitely plausible. I had to admit, once he was back, he had been helpful, even if a little slow. The way he spoke seriously, earnestly, and his closeness all made me want to forgive him instantly, but there was something holding me back.

“Okay, fine. All of that’s true. Why didn’t you talk to me about it?”

He sighed, looking away. We crossed the bell tower and headed over toward Broad Street. “I don’t know, honestly. I don’t know where we stand. I wasn’t sure how much you wanted from me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Most girls I’m with don’t give a shit if I’m feeling anxious, so long as I pass the blunt and pay for dinner.” He paused and looked back at me. “I’m trying to figure you out.”

I stopped walking, staring at him. He turned on me, a small frown on his face.

“I don’t want your money or your drugs, Noah. I’m not interested in any of that.”

He stepped closer. “It’s okay if you are, dots. I just want to know what this is.”

I shook my head. “No, that’s not what I want from you.”

His body was inches away from mine, and I could smell his fresh clothes and his sweat. I suddenly realized how nervous I was.

“What do you want, then?”

“I don’t know.”

Without another word, he crushed my mouth with his in a bruising kiss, hungry and deep and more. I melted into him instantly as he wrapped his arms around me, his mouth opening and flooding mine with his perfect taste. As we kissed, ignoring the few people that walked by, I realized I knew exactly what I wanted from him. I wanted to strip off the filters and the fancy camerawork, I wanted to get beyond the costumes, and I wanted to figure out who Noah actually was.

Finally, we pulled apart, and he looked down at me with a burning gaze. I could feel his cock already swelling in his tight pants, pressed up against me.

“That’s what I want,” I whispered.

“I know you do, dots,” he said.

“Just when I thought you weren’t an asshole.”

He grinned, and then kissed me again, briefly but strong. When he pulled away, I felt like my breath went with him.

“I am sorry,” he said.

“Is your friend okay?”

He nodded. “She will be.”

“Next time, just talk to me.”

He moved away, and grabbed my hand. We began to walk toward my apartment in a comfortable silence. I felt like my knees were weak and shaking, and I realized how badly I wanted him to take me up into my room and to rip my clothes off. It was absurd; fifteen minutes ago, I was ready to punch him in the nose. Suddenly I couldn’t get the feeling of his swollen dick out of my mind.