"So my parents are going to be home at around six, so you can't, like, do anything funny," I said to Luc, who was leaning oh-so-comfortably on my couch. (I knew I'd told him to "make himself at home" the moment he stepped in my front door, but I really didn't ask him to put his feet all over my living room cushions. He was probably just trying to piss me off, as I could see from the cocky glint in his eye, and as sad as it was, he was succeeding.)

Luc stretched his arms behind his head. "Don't worry about it," he said, eyes twinkling. "They really don't have to worry about that because I am a totally respectable and intelligent young man who"—he broke off to think about his next words for a second—"uh, with whom they can trust their daughter."

I rolled my eyes and pushed his legs onto the ground so I could sit down next to him. "Stop trying to impress me."

He grabbed Madame Bovary from the coffee table and waved it in my face. "Well, am I?"

"No," I said flatly, and I grabbed my book from him. "Don't you have your own copy?"

"That would take all the fun out of it." Luc leaned back against the couch and watched me with calm eyes. "You're my weekly amusement. I wouldn't want to get rid of it."

"Shut the fuck up." I opened the book to my owl bookmark, which was where we'd left off. We'd gotten pretty far, actually. We weren't too far from the ending (in fact, we were on Chapitre 3 of Partie 3)...and now that I thought about it, I was going to miss all of this...whatever than I had with Luc.

He totally didn't have to know about my sentiments in that regard.

"Fine, avoid answering me." Luc elbowed me and took back my book. Rude. "You know I'm gonna read anyway."

Luc was in a really playful mood today. He didn't even bother to sneak in any supposedly innocent kisses on my cheek—oh no, he was trying to piss me off the best he could. I really wanted to call Lila or something and complain to her (and try to get her to shut her brother up), but she'd reject me.

And tell me to fight my own battles.

The Mercier siblings were like that—fiercely independent. They especially liked to apply that concept of independence to other people. That was very annoying, to say the least.

I'd get absolutely no backup from Olivia, who was usually trying to write a paper of some sorts these days. Besides, she was still trying to come to terms with the idea of Luc and me. I didn't need to press her. But I did happen to get very close to finding out whom she was meeting in the library all these times...

"We're going to get started," Luc announced loudly (which was annoying since he was sitting right next to me), "so you better get your head out of the gutter."

"Fuckin' shit, just get on with it," I snapped, elbowing him (as revenge for that elbow that he gave me a couple moments ago—he probably forgot about it). Yeah, he'd definitely succeeded in using up all of my patience. I felt very satisfied as I watched him wince and curse loudly, rubbing his side. "You deserved it, you asshole."

"Someone's grumpy today," he muttered under his breath.

I turned my eyes on him, outraged. "My mood only got worse the moment you drove into my front yard! You are such a pain in the ass."

He poked his side again and cursed. "Your elbows are so sharp."

"Read the damn book."

Luc finally complied, not without much complaining. Stiffly, I settled back in my seat, putting my forearm next to his body gingerly. But, ugh, fuck it. My neck was feeling very stiff—the intense chem test I'd taken probably had a lot to do with it. So I slowly leaned my head against Luc's shoulder, closing my eyes.

It felt good to relax for the first time (since last night). And it certainly wasn't too bad of a thing that Luc had the nicest smell of clean laundry (and deodorant, granted, since he'd gotten out of an early practice and showered before he'd headed over here) around him.

But again, I had to focus on the words he was reading, not him.

That was difficult. So I decided to speak up. "The fuck does feuillage mean?"

Luc let out a heavy sigh. "Foliage, basically..."

↔

We finished a little earlier than usual today—considering the fact that he'd come around 4pm and that my parents would be coming home for dinner with him at 6pm. My head was still resting on his shoulder (the position was becoming consistently more uncomfortable, but I didn't want to deal with the awkwardness that would surely ensue if I tried to lift my head off and end up bumping his chin with the back of my head or something). Luc tossed my book onto the coffee table without moving his shoulder.

"Hey, don't mistreat elderly volumes!" I protested. "My book deserves more respect than your typically freshly printed paperback."

Luc shrugged. My head bumped into the side of his head a little. "If it helps, I haven't even cracked its spine yet."

"Oh, dommage," I responded, rolling my eyes. "Do you even read this book aside from our sessions?"

"Mais non, ma chérie." Luc glanced down at me, his warm eyes teasing. "Do you think I have free time? I've already sacrificed all of it for you."

All right, that was seriously sweet. I picked up my head from his shoulder, straightening my loose t-shirt with the Beatles' faces. (It felt good to be able to crack my neck, finally. There could be no sensation that felt better in the world, no matter what Luc and his nasty mind tried to tell me.) "Seriously, though. Why?"

His eyes turned serious now although they didn't stop swirling. It felt nice to be in his eyes—I felt warm and trapped and safe, even though I probably could never trust Luc with my life otherwise. It was obvious, as I watched him, that he was choosing his words very carefully. "Because we have...an agreement that I choose to respect."

I scooted away from him a little. "Just an agreement? Seriously?"

"What else do you want to call it?" One of his dimples showed even though he wasn't smiling—he was tensing his jaw.

I wanted to throw up my hands (as if I was in some drama production of some sort—The Sound of Music, perhaps, since it was the play the drama club in my school was doing this year), but I felt like there wasn't enough space between the two of us to do it (I'd smack Luc's face, as much as I wanted to do it after all of his endless teasing today). "Something! I don't think friends should have...so much sexual tension between them."

Luc turned to face me fully, taking my right hand in his. This wasn't right. Damn, I was still so goddamn confused and he wouldn't tell me anything. "What do you think this"—he gestured between the two of us—"is, then? Explain to me, Audrey."

"Ugh, I'm hoping you're not using me," I said.

He scoffed. "I think you're using me because I haven't received any of the payments I've been promised for these book club sessions."

"Well, you get to kiss me once after each session, so I reckon that's enough," I shot back at him.

He paused and nodded. "Fair enough. But you didn't give me one last time." He stuck out his bottom lip, like he was pouting at me (but not quite, since he wasn't giving me puppy dog eyes—he wouldn't be able to pull them off anyway; anyone knew that only dark, soulful brown eyes, like mine, for example, could do that).

I leaned over and pecked him on the lips. It was rather alarming how his were so warm (and his entire body in general, if I had to be frank) and how my hormones kicked in at that moment. God, I swore I could feel my heartbeat racing and palms sweating (I was really glad he wasn't holding my hands right now). This wasn't good. At all.

I took a breath. "Happy?"

Luc watched my eyes carefully before speaking. "No, actually." His eyes brightened. "But I do want mine for today."

Luc was a really good kisser. Like, seriously, though—he knew how to hold my waist and when to give me a little break to gasp for as much air as I could before plunging back into oblivion with him. And all over, there was just warmth and the satisfaction of just being with him.

And it sped up sometimes, the way he shifted his position so that he was somehow on top of me as we were practically lying down on my couch (with me in my loose t-shirt and him in his school rugby jersey and pants, which was just hot since they were the athletic equivalent of Spandex), his hands roaming my face and a lot of regions lower than that.

Other times, we were lying down next to each other, arms around each other's head, breathing in and nothing much more except from the occasional touches of our lips. My eyes had closed a long time ago, and I opened them again to meet his, warm and dancing in the afternoon sun.

They looked quite different up close. A good sort of different, though—I could really see the various shades of light brown and gold in them now. I blinked a couple times (my contacts were starting to feel rather dry now...I probably had to take a couple eye drops when it was time to change for dinner).

"Hey," Luc whispered, his nose brushing against mine.

I smiled. "Hey, you."

"Aren't you glad I put your book on the coffee table first?" And he still had it in himself to tease me after I'd "paid" for today's session a couple moments ago.

"Shut up," I responded. I paused. "But for the record, yes, I'm very glad." I leaned my head up a little to kiss his nose. It was so cute—I could really tell how the bridge of his nose was crooked from here. I poked the place.

Luc pretended to wince. "It hurts, A."

He was born with his nose like that. It really made me wonder why Lila didn't get it too. But really, she didn't need it. She was cute enough as she was. Now Luc, with his overbearing attitude, could really use anything in his appearance to soften his rather aggressive charisma, as I often told him.

I was joking, of course.

Luc understood. That was one of my favorite things about him. He always knew when I was or wasn't being sarcastic. It was a very fine skill that Lila and Olivia hadn't quite mastered yet. I didn't blame them since I usually took things pretty literally and didn't fare too well with sarcasm.

Abruptly, his eyes changed moods, and he attempted to straighten up a little. That was hard since he was on the edge of the couch (while pinning me to its cushions with his athlete's body) and he was at risk of falling down and smashing the coffee table at any moment.

I knew we shouldn't have made out in this particular location.

"Where do you wanna go to college?" he asked, eyes blinking.

I blinked a couple times too because my contacts were really getting unfocused. I paused. No one really knew where I wanted to go to college aside from my parents and me (obviously). It was very...ambitious. "Why do you wanna know?"

"Because." He shrugged as well as he could without actually sitting up. I pushed him up into a sitting position anyway (as serious as the situation was, my neck was feeling very strained from looking up to him as he leaned over me for so long). "I don't know, A; that's, like, a question every high schooler gets."

"It's Cornell," I said after a pause. "Cornell. Go Big Reds!"

Luc smiled softly, his dimples showing just so slightly. "See, that wasn't so hard," he said. "I think I want to go to Ithaca. I don't know."

"Not knowing's good," I said. "It's the people who are so focused on their plan for life that they can't enjoy simple things that I'm afraid of."

"Are you one of those people?" Luc's big light brown eyes stared into mine intently. He wasn't accusing me, I knew. That was what I liked. He let me decide for myself.

I took in a breath. Let it out. "I really hope not."

"You're not. Just believe in that."

He was so pretty. I patted his head, which was messy and crumpled after what had happened between us on the couch earlier. And then, my front door opened, and we heard my parents' footsteps and the sound of their conversation.

Luc jumped up in his seat, trying vainly to pull down on his shirt (which was half pulled up) and fix his hair. "Shit, shit!"

"Don't worry," I said, patting his hair again. "At least you're pretty." I laughed and stood up when I saw his outraged expression. "Oh, come on," I said, holding my hand out to him, "at least try to make the best of it before I leave you with them for ten minutes to go change, will you?"

He took my hand and exchanged my smile.

→

Hey guys, once again! Hope you all are having a nice day :) I'm just kind of tired right now (play day's really approaching), so my writing might be a little messed up.

I realized that I have a whole lot of editing to do after I finish this book, haha.

Anyway, how do you feel about Luc? He's really purdy. He is partially inspired by someone in real life (who does three sports) although I have no real feelings for him. But anyway, comment it!

Thank you for everything, and I'll see you tomorrow!

Anne