Bad Girl Off To College

Chapter 10: Panty-burning, Heart-aching, Thigh-crossing

Lia's POV:-

I open my eyes to see Luke sitting at his desk only in his sweatpants, with a table lamp on, scribbling into his notebook. Sleepily, I squint at the digital clock display.

"Luke, it's two in the morning," I scold, startling him. "Come to bed," I mumble lifting my blankets to tempt him into my cozy cave. He sighs, and puts down his pen flicking off the lamp.

"My good boy," I coo, hugging his cold shoulders. "Next time wear a sweater, or you'll catch a cold."

"I wore one, then I got too hot," he answers, burying his face in my neck.

"You are quite hot," I say into the dark, scratching his hair. He gives an amused honk, and kisses my chest as a thank you. When I wake up next morning, Luke is again missing beside me. I hear him getting out of shower while I was making coffee. 

"Eat first," I order firmly, putting toast and jam on the study table beside the book he was flipping through. 

"Lia, not right now," he complains irritated, when I force a sweater above his head.

"You will catch a cold if you sit around only in a damp towel!"

"Go away," he pushes my stomach, scrawling minute notes in the corner of a page. "Eat," I remind again, before stepping in the shower. I forget to put on a shower cap before turning on the water, and end up washing my hair. 

Today Luke had to give an important presentation. Few company HRs were also going to be there, along with professors and students, so Luke had been nervous and jumpy all week.

"Lia, stop that thing for fuck's sake."

"Sorry," I call out, and put aside the hair dryer. I pin top half of my hair back, and leave the rest open to dry. "You'll get late if you don't start dressing," I gently remind to Luke's hunched back.

"I have an alarm," he mutters absently. It rings when I finish tying my shoes. Luke takes two more minutes, before he stands up and shoves everything into his bag pack. 

"You'll be fine," I assure him, lying back on the bed watching him get dressed with a deep frown.

"I don't know," he mutters sulkily, buttoning up his oxford shirt. He puts on black colored pants over his briefs, and buckles on a black belt. 

"What if my slide gets stuck?" he turns around, distracting me from his backside that looked firm in those trousers. "What if, the HRs didn't find my project professional enough?"

"Luke, your project is pre-approved. You wouldn't be given a chance if your teachers didn't think it was good enough. And if your slide do gets stuck, you keep your cool and your poker face, and handle the situation like Will Smith. That will also show the HRs how professional you are along with being a good problem solver," I say wisely.

"Where did you learn all that?" he asks looking dumbfound.

"We have interview crash courses, in extra periods," I admit. Luke grins.

"Glasses, or lens?"

"Lens. Cause glasses will reflect the projector's light," I point out. "And we don't wanna block those pretty eyes."

He nods, and goes back to fussing over his cranberry colored shirt. I get up and slap away his hand, to straighten his collar over the tie. Luke once tried to teach me how to knot a tie and gave up when I accidentally choked him. 

"Thank you," he mumbles, tugging his cuffs. I take a little bit of gel, and neatly comb back his hair to fix it in one place. He looks at his reflection more satisfied. I dust the back of his shirt, and kiss his nape. "You'll be great."