Bro Code : Luke Hemmings IN EDITING

Chapter Thirty-One

"You didn't give me a proper goodbye," I frown. "What kind of boyfriend are you?" I joke.

"One with a cute ass girlfriend," he smiles. He wraps his arms around my legs, just under my butt and pulls me off the couch. I have no option but to sling my legs around him. I laugh as he holds me in his arms, as if I'm a small child, he does it with ease. 

"I could say the same, I guess."

"You have a cute girlfriend? Can I meet her?" his lips pull into a smile, twisting my words; he's proud of his stupid joke. I can't help but let a giggle escape through my mouth. It's different looking down at him. His eyes seem so much brighter without the light having to fight through his hair to make them shine. 

"No, she's mine."

"Shame, we could've have fun," he leans into me and softly embraces my cheek. I gasp at his remark, half jokinly and half in humor at what he said. "I'm serious! Have you ever tried to build a card house with three people? It's epic."

"That's not what you meant, perv," I laugh.

"Yes it is, get your head from the gutter." He sets me back down on the couch, but I leave my hands around his neck. "When you come over tonight, I need you to hear the whole story, okay? It's a bigger picture than you think."

"I'm getting worried. What could be so bad? Do you have a secret kid?" I scoff and joke off. 

"What?" his serious tone comes back.

"Nothing, I was kidding," I kiss his cheek. "As much as I want you to stay, go home and figure this all out."

"I will. Come over around seven?" I nod and hop off the couch to walk with him to the door. He hugs me one last time before he leaves and heads for his car. I watch as he safely pulls out of my driveway and down the road. 

I close the door and look at the television that's still playing Pleasantville. Picking up the blankets, I find the remote to turn it off. As the screen returns to black, I unlock my phone to text Michael. He says he's working with his mom today, but he didn't specifically say what for. 

Since Luke and I had our talk, and he was honest about what happened, even with Michael, I feel like I owe it to him to tell the truth. I don't know how he's going to take it, but the more I thought about it, the more absurd the whole thing was. Why didn't my mind tell me that making Michael feel like that is level ten on the bitch scale? Shit, it's probably an eleven. Granted, I was--and still get--pretty pissed when I think about it. The only thing that made it make sense to me was Luke. 

I know, Michael telling me should've been enough, but it wasn't. Any girl out there would've thought the same thing I did: he's only trying to feed me more sweet talk. I knew the emotions were real, but I couldn't let myself be think of it like that. He made me feel little, so I made him feel the same. I don't even know what to think. I don't know what I'm going to say, how I'm going to say it; will I even have the courage to face it? Fuck. 

To Michael:

When are you going to be home? We need to talk, it's really important.

From Michael:

I may not be home until later. 7:30ish. What's up?

To Michael:

I need to do it soon. Are you super busy?

I make my way to my room and sit on my bed, eagerly awaiting for his response. I want to do it while I still have the nerve.