it's my baby's birthday ♡- (wOW so mad I didn't get this update this sooner smh oh well just pretend it's still cal's birthday)

38 | "the weirdo from the hospital"

The feeling of his lip ring brushing against my skin sends shivers throughout my body, and Luke takes a step closer to me, causing me to bump into my dresser. One hand goes to clasp around my waist, his fingers sliding up underneath my shirt and brushing over my hip, and the other reaches out to hold onto the dresser; trapping me.

"You should trust me, baby," he whispers. And just like that I'm completely at a lost for words.

With his head buried in my shoulder, Luke whispers, "Do you remember when I won our basketball game?"

I'm caught off guard, still thinking about his previous statement and it takes me a minute to repeat his question back to myself in my head. Confused, my eyebrows tip together, "Luke wh--,"

"Do you remember Annie?" Luke whispers, his breath softly fanning over the side of my neck. When his smooth hands slide down my hips, lightly skimming over the sides of my bare thighs, I have to stop myself from flushing, and I quickly nod my head.

"Yeah, I remember."

"-- and I said I wanted to know everything about you? You remember that?"

"I do, but I don't understand w--,"

"Good, because this time I have you all to myself and I seriously intend on seeing my request through." When he says this, I frown confused. He wants to talk?

Turning around in his hold, I fix my straps right on my shoulders and look up at him, "Now?"

Lifting his head so that intent blue eyes are on mine, I watch as Luke tugs his ring into his mouth. He nods, "Right now."

And even with my heart is beating an incredibly fast pace in my chest and me mentally praying that Luke can't hear it, I still manage to calmly say, "Okay."

For some reason, here with Luke, laying in my bed in the comfortable darkness of my room, I'm not embarrassed at all. In fact, I'm impatient, and when his lips touch the hollow base behind my ear, it feels like a deep swell of contentment surges throughout my entire body.

"Luke," I breathe.

His nose trails down my chest, leaving kisses as he goes and he nudges his lips against one of my breast, his long fingers slowly and gently skimming over the other one. I have never been touched this intimately by anyone ever before, so languid and sensual like, and I'm momentarily surprised by how perfectly comfortable I am. But then I realize it's because it's Luke.

He's always been honest with me, and he does care about me, and I honestly have no reason to be shy around him.

Blue eyes look up at me, somnolent and pleased, "Your skin is so soft."His voice and low and husky; accent thicker than ever, "Do you trust me, Annie?"

I don't hesitate this time when I say, "Yes." Luke pauses, registering my answer, and then he bites his lip to keep from smiling. He looks so pleased and happy, dimples prominent, and I find myself wanting to see him like his all the time.

"I want to learn everything about you too, Luke," I whisper.

And then we're shifting, him on his back and me now sitting down besides him. He looks adorable laying among all of my pink floral printed pillows and when I lean down to kiss him, with a giggle, I let my hand press against his chest. I can feel his heart thudding beneath me, and I whisper against his lips, "Luke, your heart is beating so fast."

"I'm not surprised."

Then with a shy smile, I grasp his hand and guide it up to rest over my own, "Me either."

I motion for him to lean up and without question or thought, I slide his shirt down his bare shoulders, helping him out of it. His hands rest on my hip as I press my lips against his sternum. "When's your birthday?"

"You don't know my birthday? I'm hurt, Annie. Really, I am." Luke playfully whispers. I try not to focus too much on the callused fingertips that trace circles against my skin.

I grin, "It never came up."

"July 16th. A little bit before you moved in."

"Happy belated birthday, Luke." My lips trail kisses down his torso until I reach the band of his boxers, "Sorry I missed it. I'll make it up to you next year, promise."

He groans quietly, fingers moving from my waist to sink into my hair, "Annie, you can't make those kinds of promises while you're doing that."

I lick a bold line across his hip to his naval, "Why not?"

"Because then ... I'll get the wrong idea ... an--," He stops, softly panting.

I touch my lips to his belly button, "What's your favorite movie?" He doesn't say anything for a minute, the sound of his breathing filling the space around us, and I laugh, "Luke?"

"Oh," he sighs, "Mean Girls."

I can't help but to giggle again, and I quickly stop not wanting to offend him, "Nice."

"Don't patronize me, Annie. It's a good movie."

"You're right, I'm sorry." With a smile, I let my hands rest over the hem of his shorts, "Boxers or briefs?"

"What?" Blue eyes, drowsy and dazzled, gaze at me and Luke opens his mouth to say something; for the first time ever words fail him.

I don't exactly know where my newfound confidence is coming from, but when I realize what it's doing to him, I don't really care to stick around to find out. "Don't answer that, I'll find out on my own."

Then, with his pink lips still parted in a small 'o', I watch as his blonde eyelashes flutter shut, as I slowly slide them down his narrow hips.

"Briefs." I whisper, glancing up at him, "You know, some part of me kind of expected that." I let my hand rest on top of his thigh, and I lean down to kiss him, again. I don't think I'll ever get enough of kissing him.

Luke responds immediately, both of his hands in my hair pulling my face down towards him; his tongue slipping past my lips.

"Jesus, Annie. You don't understand how good it feels to be with you. I don't want you to stop, I don't ever want you to stop," He takes another deep, ragged breath that has parts of me aching in a completely unaccustomed way, "But you have to because I'd be a fool to let this moment pass. Come here."

Luke sits up, reaching out to cup my cheek and I flush, "Oh, Annie don't you dare get shy on me, now."

I smile softly. It's kind of impossible. All of my confidence went out the minute I seen him in just his underwear. I know about guys and how they're supposed to make you feel. But none of the literal stuff that I've heard or read or saw can compare to how I feel right now.

He reaches for me, running his thumb over my lip, "Hey, what's your favorite song?"

"I don't have one," I whisper.

His blue eyes roll and he looks up at me, "Yes you do."

"Honestly, I don't."

"Okay, well name the first song playing in your head, right now."

I close my eyes like I'm thinking and just to be funny I smirk and say, "Sex by The 1975."

Lips spread into that wide, dimpled, tongue-behind-teeth smile and Luke yanks me over to him; so that I'm laying on top of him; my lower half resting in the parting of his legs.

"What am I going to do with you, Annie?"

"I don't know," I whisper.

When his fingers find my camisole strap again, gently tracing the outline against my shoulder, he asks, "Star sign?"

"Leo."

"I don't read horoscopes," he says, hands sliding the very end of my shirt and slowly dragging it up my sides, "But I think we're pretty damn compatible."

Grinning, I bury my face in his shoulder, laughing against his skin before sitting back up to shake my head down at him, "Luke, why did that sound like a corny pick-up line?"

He laughs quietly, teeth tugging at his lip ring, "Maybe because it was." And then he's sliding my shirt completely off and pulling me down to lie flat against him, "I love this. Being this close to you, Annie. I really wish I'd met you in a different circumstance."

And in the dark, cuddled against him, skin to skin, with the pad of his thumb running up and down my spine, all I can think about is how I feel exactly the same way. He's taller than me, by several inches, but when we're laying together, all the curves of my body fit perfectly with his.

We don't do anything more after that, and I kiss the smooth, pale skin of his collarbone, before resting my cheek flat on his chest; immediately falling asleep to the fast rhythm that is heartbeat.

--

"Annie," Someone whispers against the skin of my neck, "Annie, wake up."

Groaning in protest, I cautiously peel an eye open to meet the blue eyed gaze of Luke. He's staring at me, a slight smile on his face and I huff before leaning forward and burying my head in his bare shoulder, "You better have a damn good reason why you're waking me up in the middle of the night, Luke."

"It's morning," he laughs quietly, his chest vibrating underneath my cheek, "Really early in the morning, actually.

"Exactly," I mumble, "So go back to sleep. We still have a good hour before anyone gets up." His warm fingers dance over my naked shoulder and I sigh, nuzzling myself closer; not wanting to let him go.

"Which is exactly why I should probably head back to my room."

"No, you shouldn't," I protest, clutching my fingers against his hip and tugging him closer, "I don't want you to go, you're so warm."

"Trust me Annie, I don't want to go," Luke kisses the top of my hair and intertwines his hand with mine, pulling it from his hip and up to let it rest against my chest, "But I really have to."

"No, you don't. Just close your eyes, okay?"

He laughs, "Annie."

"Luke," I say back, "You're not going anywhere."

"I have to." He says, and then he untangles himself from me. Before I have the chance to grab him again, he slides out of bed and turns around, leaning forward to press a single kiss to my forehead. Fingers weave themselves through the strands of my curly hair at the side of my face and his lips slowly find the corner of my mouth.

"You're only making me want you to stay more," I frown.

"Likewise," He breathes, lightly clamping his teeth down on my bottom lip before letting his lips press down firmly against mine, "Alright, Ann--,"

"You probably shouldn't have done that," I whisper. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I yank him back down on the bed with me. Luke lets out an amused laugh, hastily shooting his hands out to prevent himself from falling completely down on top of me.

Blue eyes shine happily down at me and I flash the dimpled boy a grin, before slipping my arm underneath his and pulling me over me; whispering, "Hey, do you wanna know a secret?"

His eyebrows raise and he slowly says, "Sure."

"Alright," Reaching up, I gently tap the end of Luke's nose with my pointer finger, smiling, "I think you have a really, really cute nose."

Luke smiles widely, his dimples deepening and he lets out one of his slightly high pitched chuckles before bowing his head, "Is that so?"

I nod, "Ask anyone."

"It's okay," he whispers, "I trust you, Annie." Leaning down, he runs his nose down the length of my neck and his lips press an open mouthed kiss on my collarbone.

Draping my arm over his bare shoulder, I tilt my head to the side and revel in how great it feels to be here, like this, with him. I can't help my smile and I nudge him with my forehead, kissing his ear, "Aright, go ahead."

Luke smiles, leaning up, "Kicking me out already?"

"Yeah."

"I'm offended."

"You should be," I smile, pressing my palm against the smooth skin at the side of his face, "Get out."

He teeth finds his bottom lip, mindful of the healing cut, and he turns his head to the side to touch them to my palm. Pushing his blonde hair off of his forehead, he kisses me again and gracefully climbs off the bed, heading over to the door, "Good night, baby girl."

I think I flush a million times darker than my usual skin tone and I scramble to grab my pillow, hurling it at him, "No, don't ever call me that again!"

Luke laughs, finding my embarrassment funny, "Why not?

I shake my head, hastily, "I hate pet names. Let's just stick with, Annie, yeah? I like Annie. Annie is good."

He smiles, whispers 'whatever' and after repeating the exact same sentence, he slips out the door.

--

About two hours later when I wake up for the second time, with the early morning sun tapping down on my face, I let out a quiet sigh and peel my eyes open; snuggling safely back underneath my blankets.

My gaze falls to the floor, landing on Luke's shirt and never minding the fact that I'm incredibly comfortably, I hurriedly sit up, scrambling to the edge of my bed to take hold of it. It's soft and cottony in my hands and with the last remnants of my dream quickly fading away, I allow my brain to fill with memories of last night and being with Luke.

Smiling shyly to myself, I fall back down on my bed and shove my face in my pillow, trying to get rid of the goofy smile on my face. I'm pretty sure my stomach is doing somersaults from the thought of his lips on me and I swear I'm a second away from breaking out in tingles when I hear the stairs creaking.

Someone is up.

The idea of it being Luke makes me smile again, and I jump out of bed. Grabbing my bag of toiletries, and some clean clothes, I hurry out into the hall and over to bathroom.

It takes me a solid hour to finish showering and getting dressed, and after I run my detangling brush through my hair, letting it hang around my shoulders, I head downstairs and into the kitchen.

Luke is leaned against the island staring down at his phone, and I take a quick minute to appreciate his tall frame. He's wearing his usual black, skinny jeans, this pair with holes in the knees, and black sleeveless shirt.

His head lifts and he looks at me for a minute before looking back down at his cell phone. Oh really? Is that what we're doing now? Rolling my eyes, I lift my head, and strut directly towards him. Only, I don't get a chance to walk right past him like I intend, because a hand wraps around my wrist and he yanks me back against him.

Luke drapes his arm around my neck, tugging me into his chest, and he whispers, "Don't I get a good morning, Anastasia?"

In the honeyed morning light, the blue eyes and dimples and amused curl of his smile is all just a little too much. I can't pretend to be mad at him. It's too hard. Biting my lip to keep from smiling I quietly say, "You're the one who ignored me."

"I do recall you ignoring me for three days straight," he playfully teases. His free hand tilts my head up towards him and he leans down and presses his lips against mine, "Missed you in my bed this morning."

"Yeah, well you shouldn't have ever left mine," I guide his lips back down to mine.

His tongue slips past my lips, and he moves his arm from around my shoulder to cup both his hands under my jaw. The pad of his thumbs gently run along my cheeks and he tips his head to side, slowly deepening our kiss. Raising my hands, I let them rest against his forearms.

My cheeks heat from the slow, sensual movements of his mouth against mine, and when I finally pull back away from him with a grin, I finally say, "Good morning."

"That's better." Luke smiles, drags his thumb down the corner of my lip and says, "You smell good."

Tilting my head to side, I gently squeeze his arm in my grip, "Really? I mean, there was hardly any of my body wash left in the bottle, being that someone keeps using it all ..."

His blue eyes watch me as talk, a bemused smile on his face, and it's almost like he's listening to my voice and absorbing the rest of me at the same time. A knowing look crosses his face, "Well maybe you should stop leaving it in the shower."

"Or maybe you should just, you know, buy your own?" Breaking away from him, I head over to the cabinet and pull back the knob, before glancing over my shoulder, "I feel like we eat cereal everyday for breakfast."

"It's because we do."

When I turn back to the cabinets, with a smile on face, I can't help but let it drop when I realize that everything's too high up for me to reach. Normally, I'd just hop up on the counter, but seeing as I'm on my cycle those kinds of movements are literally like aerobatics, and that's definitely out of the question.

"Let me be the first one to just say that, being a girl sucks," I mumble, staring up at the boxes that I can't reach. Glancing back, I motion with my head for Luke to help me out.

A half smile lifts the corners of Luke's mouth, and he takes a step forward towards me. Leaning over my shoulder, Luke nudges his forehead against the side of my head, kissing my temple, before whispering in my ear, "Being my girl wouldn't."

My cheeks heat at the suggestion and I try to remain as calm, cool, and collected as possible. With a shy laugh, I casually move sideways and return my gaze back to the boxes of cereal neatly organized from tallest to smallest.

No doubt, Andrew's doing. Shaking my head in amusement, I nod towards the assortment, "I can't decide if I want Cheerios or Lucky Charms. What are you having?"

Behind me, Luke laughs and reaches over me to close the cabinets, "Neither."

"Um, what are you doing? There's still Reese Puffs and I think those are Froo--,"

"Annie, we're not having cereal."

Narrowing my eyebrows, I turn around to face him, "We're not?"

He shakes his head, "Nope, not today. My dad just went out to go to the grocery store." He walks over to the sink and draws back the curtain, letting the bright morning light fill the kitchen, "He left a while ago, so he should back any minute now."

"So what does that have to do with us not having cereal?" I laugh.

"He's making breakfast."

"Oh okay, well wanna go outside and wait for him?"

Luke shrugs, and then holds out his hand to me, waiting patiently as I fit my smaller one in his and once I do we walk together back down the hallway and out onto the front porch. The smell of my mother's pale pink, magnolia flowers fill the breezy summer air and I sigh before dropping down on the porch swing and folding my legs underneath each other Indian style.

The summer sun beams down around me, and it's still morning so I can already tell that by later on today it's gonna be sweltering. Leaning my head back, I close my eyes, "Where are the ice cream trucks when you need them?"

Luke laughs, "I don't think I've ever seen an ice cream truck on this street before."

When he says that, I scoff, shocked. I mean, honestly, if you've never gotten ice cream from an ice cream truck then you haven't experienced a good summer. Turning my head in is direction, I open my eyes, and playfully feign sympathy, "You must have had a really bad childhood."

Blue eyes gleam in amusement and he crosses his arms from where he's standing against the railing, "Hardly. My mom makes the best ice cream sandwiches."

He nods, confirming it to himself, and I tilt my head to the side, "I'll believe it when I taste them."

Luke doesn't say anything, instead choosing to just raise his eyebrows in acknowledgement. He turns to look back out at the street, "What's taking him so long?"

"Maybe someone cut him in line," I chuckle, sarcastically; raising my eyebrows.

The tall boys laughs, "Doubt it."

"Mm, I don't know, Luke. The saying does go, 'like father like son', right?"

He smiles, and nods towards the street, "That's him right there."

With a smile, I stand up and watch as Andrews car nears our house, pulling smoothly into the driveway. He spots us, taps the horn once, and smiles from behind the steering wheel. I wave, "Gonna go put on some shoes, hang on."

Hurrying inside, I look by the door for my flip flops and after a minute of shuffling through everyone's shoes but mine, I huff in annoyance and sit on the floor while I pull on Luke's high tops. They're much bigger than my feet, and when I stand up I feel like I'm walking in clown shoes.

Oh well, I'm only going to the end of the driveway.

I stumble back outside, nearly tripping and I carefully descend the stairs; heading over to the car where Andrew and Luke are taking bags from the trunk.

"Morning, Andrew."

His blue eyes look down at me and he smiles that shy, small smile of his, "Morning, Anastasia. With your hair like that, you look just like your mom."

With a slight quirk of my eyebrows, I take the bags from his hold and head back towards the house. I almost trip going back up the stairs with Luke, my hand shooting out to grab his arm, and he looks over at me; a hint of a smile on his face.

"Not funny," I mumble, letting him go. "It's these stupid clown shoes."

When he hears this, his gaze trail down my legs and his eyebrows raise as he laughs, "Okay, that definitely explains it."

"Why are these so huge?" I ask, shifting my bag up my chest as I lean forward to open the door.

"Mm well, I don't know, Annie. Have you ever met a tall guy with small feet?"

I scrunch my nose up in thought and after a minute I shake my head, laughing, "I guess not. Remember when Chelsea called you the Green Giant?"

Blue eyes roll and Luke catches the door with his foot, motioning for me to go in first, "I mean, it's not like it didn't happen yesterday."

I nudge him with my elbow, "Are you being sarcastic with me, Hemmings?"

With closed lips, he smiles at me; shaking his head quickly from side to side, "Oh no, I wouldn't dare."

It takes us two more trips to the car to finally bring everything inside, and it's after I've helped put everything away, when I'm sitting here in the kitchen, with my chin in the palm of my hand and singing quietly along to Andrew's 80s CD, that I realize how completely different my life is, now.

A few months ago, before my moms engagement and our move from New Jersey, I would have never thought that I'd be sharing a house with Andrew or Luke; let alone sitting here watching the two of them debate over how much flour is supposed to go in the waffle mix.

And I mean, it's sort of odd -- because for some weird, strange reason, I'm actually a hundred percent okay with it. I'm okay with Andrew continuously calling me Anastasia against my will and having to see him wearing those dorky, faded souvenir shirts that he likes so much. And I'm okay with Luke's playful teasing, his 'accidental' forgetting to put the toilet seat back down, and his need to use almost an entire half bottle of my body wash just to shampoo his hair.

It's weird. Being used to all to these things, but I'm pretty sure I'm okay with it all.

A hand clasps down on my shoulder, hugging me, and I turn my head to see my my mom. She's fully dressed, like everyone else, wearing a pair of white capris and a pale pink scoop neck blouse, and tucked in the crook of her arm is at least four different wedding magazines. Her cheeks are tinted rose from the heat, brown hair wavy and loose around her narrow shoulder blades and she's got her glasses on; looking way too young to actually be in her thirties. I smile up at her, "Morning mom."

"Mm, morning Annie doll," She smiles. Her hand ruffles my hair, fingernails gently running over my scalp and she says good morning to the guys before settling down besides me, "What's for breakfast?"

I laugh and nod my head towards Andrew and Luke, "We're supposed to be having blueberry waffles, but no one knows how much flour to put in the mix."

Her brown eyes slide to the two expectant faces in front of us and she narrows her eyebrows, "Two cups."

"Exactly!" Luke shouts, laughing. He tugs the measuring cup from Andrews hand, shoves it in the container of flour and dramatically makes a show about dropping it in the mixer; pressing start.

With a small laugh, I watch as Andrew fills two cups of orange juice, placing them in front of both me and my mom before making his way around the counter to plant a kiss on her forehead. I briefly wonder if she feels the same way I feel about Luke, whenever she's near Andrew. It's kind of weird to think about so I turn away and playfully scrunch my nose up at the tall blonde haired boy across the kitchen. With a smile Luke turns his back to us; pouring batter into the waffle iron with the same, easy confidence he always seems to have.

Andrew turns the radio up louder, filling the kitchen with ­­­­some upbeat, catchy Madonna song, my mom slides a magazine over to me, pointing to two kinds of lace patterns and just like that we dive into a conversation about wedding frills, pink champagne and chocolate turtles; me reveling in how great this summer morning feels, with everyone here talking, laughing, singing.

--

Later on in the afternoon when I'm sitting alone in my car, listening to my radio and pretending that I'm driving, a car pulls up directly behind mines in the driveway.

It's a black, sleek looking Toyota Camry and I narrow my eyebrows as I try to see who's sitting in the drivers seat. My first thought is Ashton, Michael or the girls, but then I realize that I none of them have cars.

Reaching up, I adjust my mirror, and squint my eyes. It's no use, I can't see anything. I decide that it's probably someone needing to make a u-turn or something, and I go back to lipsyncing Selena Gomez lyrics and acting as if I'm whizzing down West Hollywood's Sunset Strip.

In fact, I'm so in tune with my singing and I swear I'm like a second away from earning myself a Grammy, that I hardly notice the person standing on the other side of my window.

It takes everything in me not to scream, and I reach forward turning off the radio, before turning my head, "Luke, hones--,"

I stop when the face lowers, my eyes meeting another pair of large brown ones, and it only takes me a second to place them with the familiar face.

It's him. The fucking weirdo from the hospital.

He's not wearing his nursing scrubs, but instead a black t-shirt, and his wavy hair flops messily over his forehead. Lips lift in a slight smile and he says, "Hey, Anastasia."

--

an - incredibly late update because my wifi was off. on the bright side I finally got to experience what it was like to live in the stone age. lucky me.

no shout outs on this chapter because I'm lazy. thanks for reading, and please vote!

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