Play No More (Player Next Door sequel) ✓

21 | Dysfunctional

If you follow me on Instagram at @NatalieInACorner then you recognize this picture. Thank you @Nikibookgram for this basketball filled poster 

Chapter 21: Dysfunctional

"You finished," Luke told me, kissing me all over my neck and down to my collarbone, "Proud of you."

His words muffled between kisses. 

If I get this much attention after every test, then I'll stay in school forever. 

I leant towards him and my hand accidentally pressed the window button. It started to roll down, but we were too busy making out to notice.

Until a girl squealed, "Is that Luke Dawson?!"

He looked up, shoving his hair back. A girl was gawking at him and the people around stared.

While Luke's other hand rested against the seat, he reached out and, as the girl kept talking at him, he pressed the button and the window rolled back up.

"Luke, can you-"

He waved as the outside voices were drowned out.

I sat up from underneath him, adjusting my shirt. Luke leaned back into the driver seat of his car and exhaled. He smirked at me.

We'd gotten a bit distracted.

We were still in the school parking lot, though most people had already dispersed to enjoy the weekend after exams. 

My duffel bag was in the back seat, and Luke was about to drive me to the lake house. I decided to leave my car in the school parking lot until Monday.

We would be back by then.

**

Soon, we would be at his lake house with his parents and brother. Jake, who I haven't really spoken with since Luke and I started dating.

I couldn't imagine the dinner conversation, let alone what we would all do. 

I come from a pretty dysfunctional family. I don't actually know what families do when they hang out. Fish?

But I was excited to see. And I was grateful to be invited. Warm cooked meals and friendly laughter would be a welcome change.

I tried not to look at Luke too many times. I wanted to pinch myself from dreaming. He looked dreamlike: messy black hair and blue eyes, fringed with black eyelashes. Eyelashes I've kissed a few times now.

And that I intend to kiss again many more times.

The top of his hoodie touched the cape of his neck and it moved ever so slightly when he moved.

"You missed the exit to the highway," I pointed out, as his car turned in the opposite direction.

"We have to make a stop," he told me, "We're picking up Bianca."

Bianca. Did the boy seriously say Bianca?

"Bianca," I repeated, "Like the girl?"

"Yeah," he nodded, giving me a weird look, "Like the girl."

Oh-kay.

I think I've been understanding so far. Bianca threatened me, told me she was destined to be with my boyfriend and that I was a nobody.

Friendly girl, really.

Then she and my boyfriend go for dinner the night before my SAT subject tests and go back to his place after.