We're Just Friends...

Chapter 4

~I Don't Want To Be Luke Robert Hemmings...~

One by one, everyone left. And once Ashton and I were the last ones left, my palms began to sweat.

I picked up soda cans off of the table and tossed them into the garbage bin, Ashton watching from the kitchen entrance.

"Do you know how sexy you look right now?" he asked, smirking evilly.

I rolled my eyes, "You did say wear something like this. And if cleaning up your room is a part of some weird fetish of yours, count me out."

He laughed,

"I don't think I have any fetishes, babe."

He grabbed my waist as I tried walking past him,

"Leaving so soon?" He smirked.

"Ash, it's almost midnight. And you have practice tomorrow."

He pulled me closer, my hands on his chest and his hands squeezing my waist.

"I can be late..."

"If Markus finds out that I made you late, he'll kill me. He already hates me,"

"Nah, he's just an asshole. He hates himself half the time,"

I laughed as our foreheads touched, months ago, I would have killed to even be in the same room as him.

"You know, I would have killed to be in the same room as you when I first met you." I chuckled.

He smirked, "Is that so?"

"Yeah, I thought you were the greatest thing ever"

He smiled at me, his arms hugging my waist.

"I forgot to ask you, tomorrow and a few days after, we're shooting a music video. We need gorgeous girls to be in it. Would you be willing?"

I smirked, "Sure, as long as it's not some shitty song you wrote."

He laughed, "I didn't write it all by myself...the guys did some of it."

"You know, you should really sing more, you actually do have an awesome voice."

He let me go and jumped onto the counter, sitting on it.

"Oh yeah," he smirked, "I wish that I could wake up with amnesia!" He said the last part of his sentence in a deep, stereotypical rich British man voice...if that makes any sense.

I laughed, "I'm serious! I'll see you tomorrow, I'm supposed to help you all with the recording session. And then I'll help you with your little video."

He sat in silence as I grabbed my hoodie off the back of the couch,

"Listen, I told Mikey not to say anything about...us."

"You did? Okay." I didn't look at him, I was too busy putting on my shoes.

"Yeah, I don't think we should tell the guys. Or anyone. And if my manager finds out, he'll murder both of us. You are, like, two years younger than me."

"I'm eighteen, just like Lukey. We're birthday twins. July 16th."

"So it's like I'm going on a date with Luke?"

I slapped his arm, "I'd rather not be Luke, thanks."

"Why not, do you not know how many people are in love with that quiff of his? You'd be famous!"

"I still don't want to be Luke Robert Hemmings."

I made my way to the door, Ashton on my tail.

He pecked me on the cheek, "See you tomorrow, love."

"See you tomorrow, Ash."

I opened the door, and started back home.