Rochester Avenue // Luke Hemmings

Chapter 18 - 'I Don't Trust Myself, Either'

"If you could have one superpower, what would it be?"

"Uh... I don't know, maybe time travel or something." Luke rifled through the papers on my desk with furrowed eyebrows. "Or reading minds. So I could confirm my theory that you are constantly picturing me naked. Is this all your stuff?"

I rolled my eyes at the reading minds comment. "Yeah. And I don't–"

"It looks seriously boring."

"Whatever, Luke. And I'm not constantly picturing you naked."

"Sure, snowflake."

I scrolled down the questions on my phone as I lay on my bed. "Why are we doing this again? These questions suck."

"We're doing this to get to know each other in a place that isn't the studio," Luke replied, opening a drawer in my desk.

"So we pick my dorm? And quit looking through all my shit," I grumbled, locking my phone and rolling over before burying my face into the pillow.

"Yeah, your dorm is... homey. And messy," he remarked, closing the drawer.

I scoffed and lifted my head to look at him. "It is not that messy. And, well... it would be tidy if Jess was here."

"Your roommate, right?"

"Right."

It was the weekend again and after I'd accidentally let slip Jess was away, Luke invited himself over to my dorm and told me we were having a 'getting to know each other' session. I'd managed to get him to my room undiscovered and he'd immediately made himself at home by looking through all my work, and now my drawers. He lost interest in my desk and wandered over to my chest of drawers. I sat up immediately.

"Luke, you are not allowed to look in my underwear drawer," I said sternly, and he threw a smirk in my direction before opening it anyway. "Luke!"

"Jeez, fine. It's not very interesting. Although you do have a lot of red underwear."

"Yeah, it's my favorite color, remember?" I reminded him, lying back down and twisting a strand of hair around my finger.

"You do that a lot," Luke mentioned, and I glanced over at him.

"What?" I said in confusion.

He nodded at my hair. "You twiddle your hair."

"Oh. I never noticed."

"It's cute." Luke sat in my chair and put his hands behind his head, looking out the window.

"I'm not cute," I protested stubbornly. Luke looked over at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Um, okay? You're... sexy?"

I grinned. "Better."

Luke shook his head at me, and glanced around my room. "Do you not have a guitar?"

I shook my head. "Not since mine broke. Dad wouldn't get me a new one and I can't really afford a good one, so... I don't know, maybe he'll be feeling nice on my birthday. We'll see."

Luke didn't answer for a moment. "You can have one of mine, if you want."

I frowned at him. "Like hell I can. I'm not taking one of your guitars."

"Well, you can borrow one, until you get a new one. I wouldn't want you to get out of practice."

"I don't need a guitar, Luke. You on the other hand, do," I pointed out, absentmindedly twiddling my hair again.