Devotion {l.h.}

Chapter Thirteen

Luke’s POV

Katarina was fast asleep in the back seat of my car.

There was no way I was letting her go home drunk. Her parents would have skinned me alive. I parked behind Jackson’s car and sat quietly, thinking of what to do next. Should I leave her in the car or should I carry her back to my place? I thought silently.

After a minutes worth of deliberating, I decided to carry her inside.

I lifted her effortlessly and carried her into my house.

“Who’s the chick?” Jackson asked, smoking a joint.

“No one” I responded, walking past him.

“She’s hot”

I clenched my teeth “Alright mate”

I walked into the bedroom and lay her down gently on my bed. She stirred slightly before curling up into a ball.

I studied her face for a moment. She looked so peaceful.

I walked over to my study table and grabbed my camera and started filming her – as creepy as that sounds. There was something about the way that she looked right now, in this moment that was almost…beautiful.

I ended the recording.

I walked out of my bedroom, and headed back for the lounge room.

“Did you fuck her?” Jackson asked, not looking up from his joint

“No” I said firmly. I didn’t want to talk to him or anyone for that matter.

“Michael was here,” Jackson said, slightly slurring his words. He had obviously reached his limit.

“Why was he here?” I asked, taking the joint out of his hands and putting it out.

“He was here to see you, but I told him you went off to some party” he replied.

Shit. I told him that I wouldn’t go.

“Why the fuck did you say that?”

“I don’t know, because it’s true?” he said shrugging his shoulders in the process.

“You’re an idiot,” I said sighing.

“You’re not the first to tell me” he laughed, “What’s the chicks name?” he added

“You don’t need to know” I replied, walking into the kitchen to grab a beer.

“But I’m curious bro” he whined

“Forget it”

“Man, I would love to fuck the living day lights out of her” he said quietly

I gripped my beer tighter.

“She looks like she could put on one hell of a show,” he continued

I took a sip of the cold beer, hoping that it would extinguish the internal blaze that was raging.

“I would let her get on top of me and ride –“

“That’s enough!” I shouted, setting the beer bottle on the countertop with more force than was necessary.

“Alright lad, relax,” he said, defensively putting his hands up in the air “you obviously care about her”

“I don’t,” I said, growing increasingly tired of this conversation.