Hollywood Hearts (A Bad Boy Love Triangle Romance): (Hollywood Hearts Book 1)

Hollywood Hearts (A Bad Boy Love Triangle Romance): (Hollywood Hearts Book 1) by Lola Hunter Page A

Book: Hollywood Hearts (A Bad Boy Love Triangle Romance): (Hollywood Hearts Book 1) by Lola Hunter Read Free Book Online
Authors: Lola Hunter
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him.

    “Oh, God,” I said, grabbing Astrid by her arm again. “I’ve had so many fantasies about him, it’s almost embarrassing. I’m still haven’t adjusted to seeing famous people in the flesh yet, I guess, let alone him .”

    “Go up and say ‘Hi’ after the show then, you dork. It’s Hollywood. Chill.”

    “No way. I look like shit and gentlemen obviously don’t prefer girls with a little bit of something to hold.”  

    “Riles, holy shit. Chill. Wait until after the show and go talk to him,” Astrid patted my arm affectionately and went back to serving. “Let’s get back to work.”

The final wave of customers came up for last call drinks during the final set. I watched Rafe’s neatly-combed fair hair exit out the front door. Astrid nudged me aggressively to go take a break and follow him. I rummaged out a cigarette from my purse and stalked up behind him and his date, feeling like a total loser.
     
    As soon as I stepped out of the door, Gunner intercepted me and placed his big arm on my shoulders.

    “Love of my life, you comin’ out after all, hey?”   I never lost sight of Rafe who stood there with his date and a group of other people just as attractive as the next.

    “No, just came out for a smoke.” Gunner offered me his light and I accepted.  

    My feet shifted. I debated in my head that this was my one chance to talk to Rafe outside of a nerd convention where I would be just another obsessive fan. But if I went up now, I would sound like the biggest tool. Plus I’d have to completely interrupt the whole group’s conversation…The idea was a complete bust. I didn’t have that kind of confidence.

    “Who are you?” Some guy yelled at me from beside Gunner. It was the jerk who’d thrown the money at me earlier.

    “This here’s Ellie. But she’s taken Hunter, don’t be a fuckin’ creep.”  

    Hunter surveyed me up and down like the girls at the audition while puffing on his joint. I cowered a little bit.

    “Taken by you fatty? I don’t think so big guy. Name’s Hunter,” he reached out his hand to shake and I tentatively obliged. It took a while to click that he wasn’t calling me fatty, thank god. My whole life though I’d grown to assume when people called someone that name they were by default talking about me.

    Hunter was hunky and completely alpha but his rude, aggressive attitude had left a sour taste in my mouth.  

    “You wanna come out for drinks with us, hun?” Hunter said. Hun? Who was he to use his terms of endearment on me?

    As I tried to form a response, someone bumped my shoulder and I lurched forward. It was Red Head and Rafe brushing by, or rather, through me to leave.

    “Excuse us,” Rafe said politely, grabbing my elbow to help me regain balance. Red Head kept on walking without any acknowledgement. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t access the confidence this time to say ‘Hi’ and I lost my chance.

    I watched the biggest crush of my life walk away across the street, taking Red Head’s hand in his. How I longed to be in her position. Reality sucked compared to my fantasies where he would’ve grabbed my elbow, smiled that smile, dipped me over his knee, ran his hands down my neck, teared my top off and had me right there in front of everyone.

    “Hey, hellooo.” Hunter waved a hand in my face and I snapped back to reality.

    “Oh yeah, sorry. Um, I don’t get off for another thirty so I don’t--“

    “You’re comin’ with us, Riles. You needa get out more.” Gunner said. “We’ll wait for ya.”

A few hours later, in Bar 5, I sat wedged uncomfortably tight between Astrid and Hunter in a booth of boisterous, drunk men. Three bottles of champagne and countless empty beer bottles sat on the table in front of us. The place was sleazy. The smoke machine gave a certain dampness to the room, combined with the sweet stench of sweating males and girls wearing too much self-tan and cheap perfume.

    “I want to go home,” I nudged

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