Not All Bad Boys Are The Same.

Chapter 7

Luca's POV

I sat on the couch watching a football game when James walked into the room. "Fucking score you useless arse!" I shouted at the television screen. It was a Manchester derby and I was backing Manchester City for the win, but they were letting me down. With only ten minutes left in the game, I was at the edge of my seat. Unfortunately because of the time zones I had to record the football match since it was only live at two am.

"How do I look sir," James asked moving to stand next to the flat screen tv that hung on the wall.

"You look with your eyes. Have you forgotten?" I clipped in annoyance. Well, I wasn't annoyed at James. I was annoyed at the game. "Well, I'll be fucked!" I screamed when Manchester United scored again.

"Sir!" Jameson exclaimed in a sound of disgust. He hated it whenever I swore.

"Yeah, yeah you look smashing James," I told him just so that he can leave me alone.

"Why sir, you didn't even look at me," he whined.

The football game was going nowhere and I grabbed the tv remote resisting the urge to throw it at the tv. I switched the tv off and let out a breath of frustration before I turned to look at James. He was wearing a tuxedo.

"Meeting with the queen?" I asked and he smirked. "Anyway, I'm not going out with you dressed like that. Go put on some normal people's clothes."

"But we going to a well-established restaurant," he argued and I rolled my eyes.

"You need to lighten up." I stood, stretching. "And stop calling me sir for God's sakes."

I walked into my room and opened up my large wardrobe. We were going to El Royal because it was Jameson's birthday.

I wanted to treat him since he has stuck by me for so long. He could of always quit and went back home, but he stayed and helped me adjust to a new life here. New York was never going to be my permanent home. I was going to go back to England as soon as I was done with my studies.

I pulled out a black button-down shirt and black pants. I laid the clothes on my bed and walked into the adjoining bathroom to take a shower.

My mother phoned me every day for the past four years. For the first few months, she cried and told me she was only going along with Harry because I was in fact out of control.

I stepped into the shower and the hot water loosened my tight muscles. After a fifteen minutes shower, I wrapped the towel around my waist and walked back into the room.

I put on my clothes and examined my face in the mirror, and that's when I saw the most horrible thing I could've ever seen. I had a grey hair in my beard. Fuck.

I rummaged through all the cupboards looking for tweezers. There is no way Luca Hendricks gets grey before he is even sixty. "James!" I yelled when I couldn't find a tweezer.

"Yes sir," he said coming into my room. He had changed his clothes and was now wearing a powder blue shirt and formal pants.

"Do you have a tweezer?"

"Just a second," he said leaving the room. He came back in less than a minute holding a tweezer out to me. "Why do you need a tweezer?" He asked and I took the tweezer from him.

"U-r-h...that's personal," I trailed, gesturing for him to leave the room.

"But sir," he said sounding horrified.

"What?"

"I use those tweezers on my face." A dark smile appeared on my face.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to get you a new one," I laughed and he cringed before leaving my room.