Perfectly Wrong || Luke Hemmings

6

The unfamiliar apartment is filled with the smell of cooking pancakes when I push the blankets off of me in the morning. I swing my legs around and plant my feet on the floor, getting up.

Ashton is in the kitchen, the one making breakfast. He smiles softly at me when I enter. "Hi, Izzy. Did you sleep okay?"

I hop onto the counter with a smile. "Yes, thank you." Glancing at the cooking food, I say, "That smells good. Are you the cook here?"

He blushes slightly, ducking his head as he flips over the pancakes. A single curl falls over his forehead and I want to reach out and brush it away. There's something so sweet about Ashton and I can't quite put my finger on it. "Kind of. Michael can't cook to save his life, but Cal and Luke can cook a few things. I do most of it though because they're all late sleepers. I like to wake up on the early side."

"Me too," I say with a grin, swinging my legs back and forth.

Ashton smiles back and opens his mouth to say something, but it's cut off by a loud sob.

"You asshole!" the red haired girl from the party screams, mascara running down her face with her tears as she races down the hallway. She stifles her cries as she slams the front door behind her.

Ashton and I turn our gazes toward the hallway, where Luke stands with his arms crossed in his doorway. A cool, detached look on his face, he lets his arms fall to his sides as he starts toward the kitchen. His blond hair is messy and I wonder if it would feel as soft as it looks if I ran my fingers through it. Biting down on my lip to contain my thoughts, I clench my hands into fists. He's only wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, slung low on his hips. I try to avert my eyes, but it's hard to keep them from straying back to his broad shoulders and toned muscles.

He drops one ocean eye into a wink when he catches me staring and I blush fiercely, dropping my gaze to the floor. "Like what you see?" he taunts as he leans back against the counter across the kitchen from me.

"Leave her alone," Ashton says with a scowl. "She's too good to end up like all your other failed relationships."

The smirk vanishes from Luke's face and he crosses the room in two strides of his long legs. "I'd like to see you make me, Irwin," he growls, grabbing the front of Ashton's shirt.

Alarmed, I jump off the counter and slide between them. "Why don't we all calm down? It's not worth fighting over." I look back and forth between them, willing them to step away from each other. Ashton scowls at the floor, nervously glancing at Luke every other second. Luke's jaw is clenched tightly, his vise-like grip on his friend's shirt not loosening. I aim a stern look at him, drawing myself up to my full height, which admittedly is not much. I don't even come up to Luke's shoulder. "Luke," I say slowly, emphasizing each syllable. "Let him go."

He scowls but lets go, stepping away. Ashton stumbles slightly, glancing at me in surprise. I look at Luke but he's stormed to the door, shrugging on a jacket before walking out. The whole building seems to shake as he slams the door shut behind him.

Ashton swallows anxiously, tugging his shirt down. His hazel eyes flicker toward the door his friend just disappeared through before turning to me. "Thanks," he mutters as he transfers the pancakes to a plate. There's a beat of silence before he clears his throat and adds, "He's not a bad guy, if that's what you're thinking. He... Luke's a complicated person. He used to be the sweetest person you'd ever meet, but after what happened with his dad... It changed him into a completely different person."

I frown as the gears in my brain work overtime. "What happened with his dad?"

"It's better if I didn't say," Ashton says in a low voice. "He doesn't like talking about it." He bites his lip as he holds out the plate of pancakes to me. "Want some?"