32. the one where he saves her a seat.

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chapter thirty-two:
the one where he saves her a seat.

"Wanna fuck?" Luke asks, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively at me before striding back and forth between the bed and the door. I cover my mouth to stifle a laugh.

"What are you wearing?" gesturing to the lacey bra around his torso, I'm unable to keep a straight face for even just a split second.

"What? You don't like it?"

"I don't love it," I say carefully, edging back onto the bed. "Where did you get that from?"

"It's yours."

"I have never owned a black bra in my life," I say, tilting my head forward and squinting my eyes at him. Luke chuckles, unhooking the strap expertly.

"I think I bought it for you but forgot to actually give it to you. So, happy birthday," he grins, throwing it onto my lap before flopping down on the bed beside me.

Laughing, I roll my eyes at him, letting the bra fall to the floor. "You're so weird."

"You know, most girls would kill for their guys to go bra shopping for them," he says, slipping an arm underneath me and pulling me close. "If anyone's weird here, it's you."

"Mhm." I hum, resting my head on his shoulder as the hum of the TV in the background takes over the room.

Tomorrow is our flight back to New York and I'm irritated- to say the least- that the trip ended this way. I don't really know what I expected. Some reconciliation with my parents would have been nice, but after no more than half an hour with my father, I knew that wasn't going to happen.

After leaving the wedding, Luke and I walked along the riverbank, clad in clothes that were much more comfortable and casual that what we had to wear. It seemed like a feasible idea at the time to wander around aimlessly until our legs gave out and fatigue took us back 'home'. When we finally got back, nobody had arrived yet, leaving us alone in Poppy's pride-possessed, million-dollar, Hollywood-wannabe mansion.

"I'm going to talk to Michael tomorrow about my resignation."

My thoughts start to faze out as I look at Luke, my mind not really processing his words until he stares back at me and a small smile grazes his lips.

"Your resignation?"

"For the club," he slowly locks our fingers together, bringing my knuckles up to his lips before placing a small kiss on the spaces between. "Remember?"

"I-"

"I'm not going to be working there anymore."

"I didn't think you were actually going to do it," I say quietly, a little sheepish, a whole lot guilty for not putting that much faith in him.

Luke bites his lip. "I said I would, didn't I?"

"But it's your job."

"But it's you."

"Don't do that," I sigh slightly, placing my hand flat on his chest. "Don't start making decisions because of me."

"I'm making them for us," he says, the pad of his thumb trailing across my cheek. "I can't keep that job, Soph. Not if I want to be with you."

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