Safety Net {l.r.h}

41) Lu

ELLIE ABNER

"Come on Luke, just fifty more words," I encourage, clasping my hands together while staring at his laptop screen. The blonde boy is slumped against a chair in the fraternity dining room, his head hanging off the back of it. A groan leaves his lips as a hand glides through his hair stressfully.

"Why can't I just turn it in how it is? What're fifty words going to do?"

I roll my eyes, "get you a better grade," I pointed to the screen, "now come on."

"Will you do it for me?" He pleads.

I shake my head, "no."

"Please?" He drags out, sliding his hand over my thigh. I inhale sharply, knowing what he's trying to do. Slapping the top of his hand, I glare at him, but he doesn't move his hand.

"Luke Robert Hemmings," I snap.

"Come on, baby." My eyes widen at the nickname, knowing he usually calls me that when we're behind closed doors doing bad things together. Leaning in close to me, he smirks, "I'll..." Whispering next to my ear quietly, I listen to his select choice of dirty words. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want him to pursue those things, but I wasn't going to give in. No way.

"Finish your paper," I scold him, trying to have a tough demeanor.

"Will I get a reward if I do?"

I can't help but blush at his words. The thought of him wanting me physically is enough to make my thighs clench. I only shrug. "Maybe. Now come on, you have to be at the western theater in an hour."

With a final sigh, he sits up and plants his elbows into the wood of the dining table, trying to find the words to type out. The door opens and closes causing me to look behind us. Calum enters, immediately going to the fridge.

"What're you guys up to?" He asks before taking a swig from the gallon of milk.

I glance at the stressed-out Luke beside me and choke back a laugh, "trying to finish his essay for his history class."

"Yeah, and it's fucking stupid. Cal, tell her to stop forcing me to do this," the blonde grumbles. Calum only laughs, his eyebrows raising in amusement.

"This is fucking hilarious, let me take a picture. Luke never does his homework." Pulling out his phone, Cal points it in our direction.

"I do too, do my homework," Luke argues. "Just not that often."

The tan boy rolls his eyes, "whatever. Everyone say, 'Luke's a dumbass.'" He says while hovering his thumb over the button to take the picture.

I laugh, watching as Luke angrily flips him the middle finger while the flash goes off.

Luke frowns, "you're an asshole."

Calum ignores his comment and scurries to my side, "the finished product." I look over at his phone to admire the photo he took. It seemed like it was straight out of a scrapbook.

"Can you send it to me?" I ask.

"Sur-"

"Go away," Luke mutters, pushing Calum away from us.

"Meet us at the theater ten minutes early!" The 21-year-old shouts as he walks out of the kitchen. I just laugh in disbelief at Luke's tantrum he's been having for the past forty-five minutes.

"You're unbelievable," I state, shaking my head. When I don't get a response, I sigh and reach for his laptop, tugging it off the table to my lap. "And a fucking child."

He gasps, "don't cuss at me." I can tell he gets a kick out of this considering I try my best not to use vulgar language, but sometimes it's necessary. And fun.