The Stepbrother // Luke Hemmings

I Forgot

45

I Forgot 

After my conversation with Bryana in the hallway, not exactly in the mood to be the third wheel, I decide to spend the rest of the early morning next door, alternatively.

Luke is still fast asleep and I silently pad over to his bed, crawling in beside him. I wait to see if he's going to move or shift awake, and when he doesn't, I make myself comfortable. Tucking myself underneath his covers, I settle in close to his side; my head on his chest and my arm slung across him.

In the silence of his room, it's easy to hear Bryana's resonant laugh coming from the other side of the wall. I try not to think about what she could be talking about, or if Ashton's sitting there beside her flustered and awkwardly attentive. Instead, I let my body absorb the gentle rise and fall of Luke's chest, concentrating on the faint whisper of his warm breath in my hair and on breathing in the scent of him.

I tried not to think of anything at all. Not of the wedding, or the engagement, or the ever existing concern that there was someone just around the corner waiting to jump out and yell, "Busted!"

I just tried to just be here, in the comfort of his room. 

Cozy underneath warm covers.

Cool, early morning air pulsing through windows.  

The naive idea that maybe, just maybe, I could get used to this. 

I pressed myself closer, throwing my leg over his lap and pressing it between his. I could definitely get used to this.

This time, Luke stirs awake. For a second, he pauses -- clearly not remembering having fallen asleep with me in bed with him, and then he relaxes. I'm so close to him that when he gently parts his lips to speak, his words seem to vibrate through his chest and against me. "Hey, Annie?" Luke whispers, voice low and laced with sleep. "I really gotta pee."

It's so unexpected (and alright, adorable) that a sudden laugh slips past my lips. I press my face into the bare skin of his shoulder, "Good morning to you, too."

Luke leans down and kisses me chastely on the crown of my head; his thumb skimming gently down my cheek, "I'll only be a minute, I promise."

I lean back away from him, drawing the covers up around my shoulders, "Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven. You're still here?"

"Wait, restart. Restart." With that, he climbs briskly out of bed, stopping just barely to snatch a t-shirt from off the floor. I watch in amusement as he pulls it over his head, stumbling sleepily out and across the hall to the bathroom. While I wait, I stare up at his ceiling and make myself busy by focusing on the muted him of my television coming through the wall.

Only, in the quiet and stillness of Luke's bedroom, the sound of a ringing phone sounds out. I flinch, caught off guard, and I anxiously turn my head to look at where it buzzes loudly against his nightstand top.

I have half the mind to reach over and press END so that I don't have the hear the obnoxious, techno ringtone that blares from the speakers, but I resist the urge as it dies down; the call canceling out. Whatever, they'd leave a message. Turning over, I press my cheek against Luke's duvets and close my eyes again; willing him to finish up in the bathroom. Surely, a minute had gone by. I missed the feel of him against me, my head buried against his side, and the freckled, bare curve of his shou--