𝟏𝟒. 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐈𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲

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^^ Can he not? The audacity. 

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"So, you're telling me that Calum and Jada were doing the dirty two rooms down while you and Nina were watching 'Harry Styles King of Entertaining the Crowd?'" Luke spluttered out, spinning the long pasta around his fork.

"It sounds weird when you put it like that, but yeah?" Alina picked at her plate of pasta, returning the broad smile that the blue-eyed man gave her.

The brief lunch that the four friends shared at the apartment had felt extremely awkward. Nina had made sexual remarks incessantly, Calum had given her looks that could kill, Jada had appeared uncomfortable at first but soon busied herself with eating lunch, and Alina had just been there.

Let's just say, Alina took a deep breath of fresh, clear air once she left her apartment for her 2:30 shift. A shift that went surprisingly fast. Yet, her shifts seemed to be defying the standards of time for the past couple of weeks. At first, Alina had no clue why, but the more she thought about it and the more she discreetly gazed at the boy across from her, she understood.

It was Luke.

His corny jokes.

His entrancing eyes that lit up when he mentioned his family and friends.

His little pout that surfaced when she wouldn't let him draw a dick on her blank waiter pad.

His multiple rings that he insisted on taking off before scrubbing down a table.

His nose that crinkled adorably when she'd playfully push him out of her way.

His dimples that popped out whenever he shook his head and smiled widely at her cheesy dad jokes and shameless puns.

His dirty blonde hair that curled a bit at the ends whenever perspiration ran down his forehead and reached the tips.

His slight stubble that he scratched whenever he felt uncomfortable or unsure of how to act.

His long, lanky legs that outran hers whenever she tried to beat him to the over-cooked pizzas the chef deemed un-servable.

His black lip ring that was often found between his teeth as he nibbled thoughtfully at his lush bottom lip.

His deep voice that sent shivers down her spine, whether he asked her where they held the extra serving spoons or whispered that her top was caught up in her apron and was "unjustifiably flashing him" with a bare sliver of the small of her back.

His feet that were the only things hinting at his hidden awkwardness when his left foot would rest slightly on top of his right as he stood listening to a family ask for the waitress.

His mere presence was something that distracted and excited her, always keeping her on her toes.

"Klutz?" A voice broke her out of her thoughts; thoughts she immediately felt guilty for entertaining. Why couldn't she just look at him like as friend?

"Yeah?"

"Do you not like it?" Luke asked, his eyes zeroing in on the fork she was twisting in the pasta without lifting to her mouth.

"I don't really like fettuccine Alfredo," Alina mentioned again, looking down at her plate in embarrassment.

She hated the look that he was giving her. It was a look that spelled "I'm sorry" and like most, Alina despised pity because that meant she hadn't managed to hide her disappointment well enough.

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