outlines ✰ l.h.

chapter eight

I pulled up to Luke's house, still slightly overwhelmed at the size of it. It's not that it was ridiculous mansion, but I had just been so familiar with my home that I seem to forget time to time that not everything in the world is similar to what I have. I knew that living in my own small home was quiet enough without my dad around and I could only imagine how it was for Luke to have this house to himself most of the time.

I parked right behind Luke's car, thankful that he was actually home. I glanced from side to side for any sign that he was outside and I got out of my car, hoping that he wouldn't think it was too weird that I had actually remembered the password to get through the gates and to his house. I shook it off as I walked up his porch steps and raised my hand to knock.

I stopped when I heard the faint sound of music coming from outside. I was surprised I hadn't noticed it when I first got here, the heavy guitars from what sounded like an early 90s rock band couldn't be ignored. I furrowed my eyebrows at turned to my left which is where the music was coming from. I hopped down the steps and made my way over to his garage, unsure of what he was doing or if it even was Luke.

I made my way over as the music got louder, suddenly being thankful for wearing a dress since it was ridiculously hot outside. I approached the garage door, poking my head in to find that it was Luke who was the cause of the commotion.

I raised an eyebrow at him, or rather his back since it was turned to me. He was hitting a punching bag, rather roughly, that hung from chains from the ceiling in some type of beat to the song that was playing. His back muscles were prominent every time he hit, the sound of his wrapped knuckles barely being heard against the leather.

I took a step inside his garage, leaning against the side of the door as I decided whether or not I should awkwardly walk in and say hi or wait for him to finish. Just then, the song had finished and so had Luke. His arms fell to his side and he took a step back, letting the sun peaking through the small window make him literally glisten. It wasn't until that moment where I had actually found a sweaty boy to be attractive.

His head fell as he shook a hand through his hair. I bit back my bottom lip to keep myself from laughing and scaring him, which I soon realized I was too late when he spun around and jumped from seeing me standing there.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Andy." He grumbled as he continued to unwrap the black tape off his hands. "You scared me." He said, looking up at me once then back to his hands.

"Sorry." I replied, letting my laugh slip through at the end.

"How'd you even get in?" He asked. I watched as he grabbed his shirt from the side, tugging it over his head and attempting to fix his fallen hair.

"I knew your gate code." I shrugged.

"Remind me to be careful about that. I don't want more girls sneaking up on me like that." He chuckled, nodding towards the door the inside of his house as he walked towards it to tell me to follow him.

"I technically didn't sneak up on you." I told him, crossing my arms over my chest as the cold AC blew into my face and cooled me down.

"Then you were stalking me." He weaved through his kitchen, avoiding counters and chairs as I trailed right behind him.

"Not stalking," I said, raising a finger.

"Then what exactly were you doing?" He looked over his shoulder, giving me a smug smile.

I laughed, "I came over because you wanted me to." I reminded him, grabbing onto the railing as he led me up the stairs.

"That was before you said you were busy with Ashton." He said, now walking backwards up the steps so he could talk to me face to face. His cheeks were still flushed and he stopped attempting to get his hair to fall out of his face.