Hollywood Hearts (A Bad Boy Love Triangle Romance): (Hollywood Hearts Book 1) by Lola Hunter Page B
Authors: Lola Hunter
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Astrid in the ribs but she brushed me off, too busy chatting up one of our regular customers who’d come along with us.
I began covertly scrubbing each inch of my hand and fingers with some hand sanitizer from my purse. Places like this sparked up my OCD tendencies more than anywhere else. Every girl in the place was dolled up in their tight dresses and heels, some so drunk it was as though the ground was falling out from beneath them. Then there was me, hunched here like a frumpy dumpling in my dirtied black work jeans and t-shirt, hair tightly back in a ponytail and makeup that had long since melted from my face.
“Let’s go out for a smoke.” Hunter’s warm whisper entered my ear. I nodded, surprised. Anything to get out of here right now.
I stood up and he immediately placed a light hand on my ass to guide me through the crowd. Shocked, I batted it away. He tried again for my lower back and I did it again. What was this creep up to?
The cold air outside allowed me to finally suck in a quality breath of oxygen despite the billows of cigarette smoke wafting skyward. I cradled my forearms and shivered at the chill.
“Here,” Hunter put his warm sweater over my shoulders which allowed me to briefly admire his strong arms and how good they looked in his t-shirt. His hand rubbed down my waist to pull his cigarettes out from the pocket. “You want a spliff or a regular?”
“Regular’s fine for me, thanks.”
“You sure?” I shivered again and he rested his hand on my back. “Let’s have some fun.”
“No, I’m good. Really.”
“Alright, kill-joy. Well I’m buying you some shots back in there so deal with that.” He placed a cigarette between my lips and lit it. I inhaled deeply and began coughing loudly at the sickly taste of marijuana burning down my throat.
“What the fuck, dude?” I tossed it onto the floor and he started laughing, handing me a tobacco one instead. “Don’t fucking do that to people.”
“Okay, okay,” he said as his attention became diverted by a group of lanky girls in their tight jeans and stilettos who were clip-clopping by. “So how long you been working at Bangarang's?” His eyes stayed on them, even when he bent down to pick up the joint I threw on the ground.
“Um, like two years,” I replied, though I really didn’t want to give this guy the time of day.
“You like it? You look happy there.”
“I’m glad my charade is working then.”
“You’re not happy?”
“I’m not not happy,” I breathed in another drag of the cigarette.
“You’re here for acting though, right?” Finally he looked at me with his dark bedroom eyes. I nodded slowly and blew my smoke out. “You’re cute enough for it.”
“Wow, you’re not gonna say I’m too fat for it?” I blushed and peered down at my feet. My head felt cloudy from the single puff of weed combining with his second hand smoke.
“Shut up. You’re gorgeous and you know it,” he said, nudging me flirtatiously. “You feel better? Warm?”
“Yeah, thanks,” I said and checked back to see if his face suggested he might be playing games with me. Despite him seeming serious still, I couldn’t believe him. Hell, I couldn’t believe anyone in this town who told me I was beautiful.
We finished off our vices and he held my hand in his to take me inside, deciding not to pull away because his grip was comforting in the cold.
Astrid had already found a new tall, dark stranger over on the dance floor who was grinding up on her leg as they made out. The frequent customer she had been talking to seemed to have vanished and the rest of the group had dissipated a little bit.
“Two Jagers, man,” Hunter told the bartender.
He poured them up in front of us and Hunter gestured at me to shot it back. I obeyed, wincing at the taste. He gestured again. I tilted the other shot down my throat.
“Good girl,” I thought I heard him say and he put his hand on my
I began covertly scrubbing each inch of my hand and fingers with some hand sanitizer from my purse. Places like this sparked up my OCD tendencies more than anywhere else. Every girl in the place was dolled up in their tight dresses and heels, some so drunk it was as though the ground was falling out from beneath them. Then there was me, hunched here like a frumpy dumpling in my dirtied black work jeans and t-shirt, hair tightly back in a ponytail and makeup that had long since melted from my face.
“Let’s go out for a smoke.” Hunter’s warm whisper entered my ear. I nodded, surprised. Anything to get out of here right now.
I stood up and he immediately placed a light hand on my ass to guide me through the crowd. Shocked, I batted it away. He tried again for my lower back and I did it again. What was this creep up to?
The cold air outside allowed me to finally suck in a quality breath of oxygen despite the billows of cigarette smoke wafting skyward. I cradled my forearms and shivered at the chill.
“Here,” Hunter put his warm sweater over my shoulders which allowed me to briefly admire his strong arms and how good they looked in his t-shirt. His hand rubbed down my waist to pull his cigarettes out from the pocket. “You want a spliff or a regular?”
“Regular’s fine for me, thanks.”
“You sure?” I shivered again and he rested his hand on my back. “Let’s have some fun.”
“No, I’m good. Really.”
“Alright, kill-joy. Well I’m buying you some shots back in there so deal with that.” He placed a cigarette between my lips and lit it. I inhaled deeply and began coughing loudly at the sickly taste of marijuana burning down my throat.
“What the fuck, dude?” I tossed it onto the floor and he started laughing, handing me a tobacco one instead. “Don’t fucking do that to people.”
“Okay, okay,” he said as his attention became diverted by a group of lanky girls in their tight jeans and stilettos who were clip-clopping by. “So how long you been working at Bangarang's?” His eyes stayed on them, even when he bent down to pick up the joint I threw on the ground.
“Um, like two years,” I replied, though I really didn’t want to give this guy the time of day.
“You like it? You look happy there.”
“I’m glad my charade is working then.”
“You’re not happy?”
“I’m not not happy,” I breathed in another drag of the cigarette.
“You’re here for acting though, right?” Finally he looked at me with his dark bedroom eyes. I nodded slowly and blew my smoke out. “You’re cute enough for it.”
“Wow, you’re not gonna say I’m too fat for it?” I blushed and peered down at my feet. My head felt cloudy from the single puff of weed combining with his second hand smoke.
“Shut up. You’re gorgeous and you know it,” he said, nudging me flirtatiously. “You feel better? Warm?”
“Yeah, thanks,” I said and checked back to see if his face suggested he might be playing games with me. Despite him seeming serious still, I couldn’t believe him. Hell, I couldn’t believe anyone in this town who told me I was beautiful.
We finished off our vices and he held my hand in his to take me inside, deciding not to pull away because his grip was comforting in the cold.
Astrid had already found a new tall, dark stranger over on the dance floor who was grinding up on her leg as they made out. The frequent customer she had been talking to seemed to have vanished and the rest of the group had dissipated a little bit.
“Two Jagers, man,” Hunter told the bartender.
He poured them up in front of us and Hunter gestured at me to shot it back. I obeyed, wincing at the taste. He gestured again. I tilted the other shot down my throat.
“Good girl,” I thought I heard him say and he put his hand on my
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