dentist ⇒ luke hemmings [updating & editing]

"in for dessert in bed"

chapter fourteen: "dessert in bed"

Every time I thought that the evening couldn't get worse, this chick I was married to, named luck, would march in through the door, like a Victoria's Secret model. She's the kind of arranged marriage that you're forced into, and now you can only complain – divorce is a distant dream.

So, my luck, as I was saying – was a badass. Badder than Michael Jackson said, he was. So bad, that it got Lucas Hemmings to convince my father, who in turn, convinced me to make cookies for the entire fucking planet.

Why? Just, why?

Dinner was as terrible as I had thought it would be – flashing fake smiles and shooting thank you's, that roughly translated to fuck you's, in return for the uber cheesy compliments, I had somehow survived the thirty dreadful minutes.

Thirty dreadful minutes, dear readers, after which I finally felt free – like a bird, flying around within the four walls of my room, with a box of cookies. Very free.

I sat idly for over an hour, doing absolutely nothing, but switching between gaping at the large wall clock, and my open mathematics book. There was no way on earth, I was going to do my homework, but convincing myself that I'll start after five minutes, repeatedly for an hour, made me feel a little better.

However, when the clock struck twelve, I decided to take a stroll around the house, instead. I was no Cinderella, but late night trips to the kitchen was something that fell under my daily routine. Nightly routine, actually.

The surroundings were quiet, and I assumed that my father and Luke were done discussing about the operation. While on my way, I had to walk past the guest room – the very room where Luke was going to stay, for the night.

The very room where the guy who kissed me, messed with my feelings, ditched me, and then made me bake vanilla cookies, was going to spend the night.

The corners of lips curled into the craftiest of smirks, as a certain thought crossed my mind. I wasn't the stealthiest of people, but with a little effort, I could pull the act off, really well.

Without thinking twice, or hesitating to the slightest bit, I stationed the box of cookies away, tiptoeing back to the door.

I pressed my ear against the mahogany teakwood, listening carefully. All I could perceive, was the sound of the running water – which implied, he was in the shower. I could even hear a faint humming sound – which made the smirk on my lips, widen.

Reaching for the spare keys to the guest room, that was kept hidden under a certain pot of plant, I carefully unlocked the door, pushing it open.

I made sure to close it ever so softly, before locking it. I needed to be quicker than Speedy Gonzales, or the Roadrunner, even.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for that one device that was enough to help me mess him up – and there it was – on the wee table stationed next to the bed, lay his beloved phone. From what I could recall, Luke didn't have a password. He had unlocked his phone several times, in my presence, and not a single time, did I see him type any sort of password.

And I was right. The moment I pressed the home screen, the phone unlocked itself to display a dozen apps, and such. Boy, was that exciting.