Bad Boy Hemmings ➸ Sequel

17.

Oh.

My mind buzzed lightly as Luke stood in front of me with a determined look on his face.

"W-why?" Stupid question, I know. But after I told him, why on earth would he expect me to just leave?

"Became we don't work. Nothing about us works. I have a whole world ahead of me. Fame, girls, best friends. It wouldn't be fair to me to have someone who I barley know, following my every move. I know I sound like a dick but it's the truth whether you wanna hear it or not." Luke shrugged.

I was taken back slightly, before I got angry. Who the fuck does he think he is?

"And you think it's fair to me that I have to deal with knowing your not hurting at all and I'm suffering over hear? Is it fair that one day you're telling me you love me, the next your questioning what my fucking name is and what I want from you?!"

"It's not my fault I don't remember! Holly fuck, I don't know what I'm supposed to say Nevaeh?!" He yelled. People glanced our way from our loud voices.

"Fine Luke, fine. I'll leave, but just remember who was their for you when you had no one to turn to." I spun on one heal and headed for the Hotel, all fibers in my body telling me to turn around and fight back again. But I couldn't; and I knew that with every step I took, my heart was being torn more and more.

---

"It's like a Ping pong game with the two of you." Michael said as he folded my tee shirt and placed in the suitcase neatly.

"Sadly." I muttered.

"Cheer up buttercup! The storm will pass by soon enough." He kissed my cheek lightly before going back to folding.

"Michael you gay perks are showing." I teased, referring to 'buttercup'.

"I'm not completely gay ya know." Mickey glared.

I snorted. "Tell that to your over protective boyfriend that won't let you breath next to a girl without being next to you."

"These panties turn me on." He stated, holding up a black pair of Victoria's Secret underwear.

"Sure, and Ashton doesn't have dimples." I rolled my eyes.

"You don't play fair." He grumbled, throwing the underwear sloppily in the suitcase.

"Dammit Clifford. Fold those, now!" I snapped.

"Fine, Bossy Becky."

"No, but I'll give you a reason to call me Bossy Becky." I growled.

He rolled his eyes and threw a sock at me.

---

"I don't want you to leave." Michael whined, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist.

"There's really nothing I can do about it Michael and you know that." I leaned my head on his shoulder, gazing down at the threading of his old Panic At The Disco tee shirt.

"Yes their is! You could stand up to Luke and tell him to stop being a little dick about everything." Michael exclaimed his hands tightening on my hips.

I pulled away from him and he made a small grunted noise. "I'm not gonna have this conversation right now, I need to go my plane takes off in," I glanced down at my watch. "An hour. The drive to the airport will be a little over 45 minutes."

"Please don't listen to Luke, I want you to be here." His face was in the firm of a pout and his eyes glossed over in tears.

"I love him, and whether I like it or not, I'm always gonna want what's best for him."