A/N: Sorry to ANYONE who has this story in their library and was notified of the update prematurely. My daughter - 9 months old in like a week, was fiddling with my phone after she knocked it out of my hands and pressed the publish button on the story, since I was working on it. Obviously she didn't mean to, but it was funny, and horrifying, since the chapter was choppy and not complete. I think I unpublished it fast enough though. Here's the REAL chapter, enjoy!

Chapter 5

    "Eat it or I'll shove it down your throat."

I gasped, slapping Luka's hand that held the last half of my triple decker burger. I hadn't ordered it - in fact, I had very clearly said I wanted a regular cheeseburger, meaning one patty, not three. But Luka - ever persistent, told our waitress I was just being modest and that I actually wanted a triple. So with a small giggle she skipped - literally - her way to the back to place our orders - meaning Luka's orders.

We were in a quaint diner decked with old style pictures and red leather seats. I could see the appeal to this place - it was very old school, but had a modern twist to it. The waitresses and waiters wore leather with their hair mussed up to create a 'bad ass' theme, and there were murals of motorcycles painted on the front of the counter. Red and black was the theme here, and the old-time feel mixed with the motorcycle edgy theme was actually pretty cool.

I was pretty proud of myself for consuming half of it, plus the side of onion rings, until Luka told me it wasn't enough. So as not to puke, I ignored the taunting. I suppose now he was resorting to empty threats, because in the words of Luka, he'd never hurt me.

"No you won't."

"Wanna call my bluff?" Luka challenged, a slight smirk present on his attractive face.

I shrugged, nodding and noticing the challenging glint coming to Luka's eyes. He smiled widely - devilishly, and called the waitress over for the check. After paying and getting my burger in a to-go box, I was completely content with the fact that I had won. Of course, that is, until he took the burger out of the box as soon as we stepped into the humid California air, letting the foam box fall lifelessly to the ground.

I gulped as he brought it into his hand, advancing on me like a cat to a mouse. I backed up, slowly at first, watching his moves very closely. When he was two steps in front of me, burger at the ready, I swiftly turned on my heel before taking off in whatever direction felt necessary. I screeched as I ran, like I was being chased by a predator - and in a way, I was. Except my predator was Luka Sanchez, and his weapon of choice was a half eaten cheeseburger.

"You're wasting your time, Cheese Puff!" Luka shouted, laughing hysterically. "I'm in the army for fucks sake, you really think you can outrun me?"

The burning in my lungs served as a deterrent. While half of me wanted to give up, stop running and accept defeat, the other half of me - the less logical side, wanted to keep going. I was competitive by nature, and even the smallest ounce of competition fuelled my love for it. Luka knew this, which is probably why he presented the challenge in the first place. He was as competitive as I was.

"I..." I panted, breathing heavily as if I'd just run a marathon when in reality it had only been about four minutes. "Can!"

I spared a glance back at Luka, who was gaining ground on me steadily. He was now only about five paces back and looked as if he hadn't started running in the first place. "Come on Chloe, stop before you pull something."

"That's..." More heavy breathing, pants, and the sound of my flip flops hitting the pavement followed. "Rude!"

He laughed loudly, obviously enjoying my athletic ability - or lack thereof. I kept on, forcing myself forward despite the burning in my calves. I made a grave mistake, taking a turn towards an open field to try and confuse Luka, but of course, perceptive, military grade sense possessing Luka caught onto what I was doing, and tackled me once the turn was complete.

He turned us mid-fall so that I landed on his chest with an oomph and no pain came my way, but with the wince he was sporting I could tell the brunt of the fall had done a number on Luka. I scrambled off of him, the start of an apology on the tip of my tongue before I realized I didn't owe him one. He was the one to tackle me, he was the one to flip us so he took the impact, so why did I owe him an apology?

I didn't.

I sat next to him, getting on my knees and trying to control my breathing. I wasn't asthmatic, not by any far means, but I was surely far from athletic. No amount of time in the gym could even begin to bring up the stamina of a girl who spent eighteen years of her life on a couch, busying herself watching reruns of TV shows and old movies.

Once I caught my breath, I looked over to see Luka grinning up at me. I raised an eyebrow, blurting, "What?"

He chuckled, not out of breath a bit and I wanted to slap the smirk off his face. "You fell for me."

"More like you pushed me, and I fell. But not for you."

"Soon," he murmured, bringing himself into a sitting position. He smiled at me, and it was the smallest, most minuscule smile, but the ghost of it lingered after it was gone. "Thanks for helping me today. You really have a way of taking my mind off of things."

I grinned, swiping my unruly hair - that I still hadn't gotten the chance to brush, mind you - out of my face. Luka pulled himself to a standing position, this time offering a hand to me to help me up, and I took it. As he was pulling me up, he let my fingers slip through his and I gasped, preparing for the impact to the ground I never received. With his lightning fast reflexes he'd bent down, scooped me in his arms and was peering down at me with a smirk.

"We can't keep meeting like this."

I slapped his chest, giggling to myself. "Just help me up you jerk."

But first, because Luka is Luka, the most childish twenty three year old I know, he took my half eaten burger and rubbed it all over my face. The feeling of lukewarm mayonnaise and ketchup on my cheek made me cringe and I mirrored his smirk. He was confused at my reaction, rightfully so - until I brought my face up to his.

I acted like I was going to kiss him, giving off the aura that something was about to go down. I watched as his eyes fluttered shut, and as out breaths fanned over each other's lips, I gulped. The proximity did nothing to calm my racing heart, and for a fraction of a second, I considered actually kissing him. But then I remembered this was Luka holding me, and I didn't want to kiss him.

So instead, I did what I'd set out to do - I rubbed my cheek against his. His eyes shot open at the foreign feeling on his cheek, and he scanned my face. I shifted under his scruitinity, a little uncomfortable with the attention, but I stayed put, holding in my laugh. It was apparent the condiments on my face had changed their placement at the contact, and he smiled widely. At the sight of his smile and the mayonnaise-ketchup combo on his cheek I couldn't hold my laugh back anymore, and Luka began laughing with me, before saying, "You are something else, Cheese Puff."

Before we knew it we were pulling back up to the house. We'd both washed our faces off with a napkin, vowing to get showers when we got back. I needed one anyway, since the commotion this morning had interrupted my plans for one. I'd taken one last night, thank God, or I'd feel disgusting right about now. Although I did feel gross due to the ghost of condiments on my face, I didn't feel flat out disgusting. 

Luka got out of the drivers seat, closing his door before sauntering over to my side of the truck. He opened the door, placing his hands on my waist and lifting me off the seat before pulling me into a hug. My feet were still off the ground, considering he was considerably taller than me, but I returned his hug anyway. "Thank you," he mumbled into my hair, running his hand down it, narrowly avoiding the tangles.

My voice was muffled by the material of his shirt, but I responded anyway. "Anytime."

We pulled apart, walking towards the house and opening the door. As soon as I entered, however, a tug on my arm brought me out of my mindless waddle. I glanced over, my eyes locking on a smiling Owen, and I returned it.

"Hey Chlo bo," Owen greeted casually, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and I realized that's probably what he normally wears around the house. Seemed a little uncomfortable to me, but who was I to question it? It was his house, after all.

"Hey Owe bo," I responded, moving slightly to the left so Luka could get through the threshold. He did, but paused at the sight of Owen, and smirked a bit before jumping on the couch - I suppose to listen to our conversation.

"Hey Luka, this is kinda private so-"

"Oh right," Luka murmured, nodding to what Owen said before shifting his gaze to me. "Cheese Puff, do you mind giving us a minute?"

As Owen furrowed his brows, I held in my laugh. Luka was grinning at the fact that he'd almost made me laugh, and Owen shook his head. "No, I meant with Chloe-"

"But you said our conversation was private."

"My conversation with-"

"Chloe! Do you mind!?" Luka screeched in a falsetto voice, crossing his arms over his chest but the smirk on his face gave his facade away.

I couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped me as Owen groaned in exasperation. He grabbed my hand, dragging me up the stairs as I spared a look back at an amused Luka. Owen stopped at a random door on the second floor - two away from mine, and opened the door before marching in and jumping on the bed. Slowly I pieced the puzzle together and realized this was Owen's bedroom, I hadn't been in here yet, so I let my eyes wander the proximity.

On the far wall was his California king bed, fluffy pillows and a duvet sprawled across haphazardly like he'd just gotten out of bed. There was a desk parallel to it, pushed against the wall and it was covered with papers and magazines that had him on the cover. He had posters taped up sloppily - some of girls, some of actresses and actors and some of himself. I resisted the eye roll at the latter. Posters of himself? Really?

He had a bookshelf covered with trophies; they stemmed from when the boys were in little league and pee wee football, to more recently with his trophies for being, well, famous. There was a couple framed pictures on the top shelf, one of the three boys, one of the six of us and one of him and his family. I smiled at the pictures, running my fingers over the frame gently before continuing my scan of the room. There were clothes thrown on the floor, typical, and he had a balcony leading out to the beach too. There was a hamper in one corner against the wall that led to his balcony, and a trash can on the other side filled with crumpled papers and food wrappers. His nightstand had a small lamp perched on it and a couple drink cans.

"Go on a date with me?"

I coughed aloud at this question, jumping slightly at the random question and if I was drinking something I would've done a spit take. It was forward, to-the-point, out of nowhere and I was confused. "Huh?"

As if realizing how he said it, he laughed. He ran a hand through his blonde hair, ruffling it slightly. "No, that came out wrong. What I mean is I have an banquet to go to tomorrow night, and I want you to be my date."

I took a seat next to him, crossing my legs before peering over at him. "What kind of banquet?"

Owen shrugged. "It's just to celebrate the completion of The Darkest Hour. All the actors and actresses were invited, but we were told we could bring a date. I thought of you."

I paused, thinking about it for a minute. Would it be like a real date? I'd always wanted a date with Owen, but it seemed like he didn't mean it like that - not to mention he liked Zoey. "I would, but I don't have a dress or anything. Or at least, I don't think I do. And besides, don't you have someone else you want to go with? Someone famous? Someone more beautiful?"

"There's no one more beautiful than you."

Those words hadn't come out of Owen's mouth, but Luka's who was casually leaning on the doorframe, one leg crossed over the other. His gray sweatpants were hanging low off his hips and his black T-shirt fit his chest like a glove. It was everything I could do not to blatantly gawk at him as he leaned against the door frame, looking every bit the male model despite crying not even three hours earlier.

"I could've said that," Owen murmured, shaking his head in irritation before letting his gaze fall back to mine once more. "There's no one I'd rather go with than you, Chlo bo."

"Not even Zo?"

"Not even Zo. So will you come?"

I fiddled with my fingers nervously. "I don't know."

"I think you should go," Luka piped up, and the surprise was evident on the faces of both Owen and I. Luka had never been one to give relationship type advice to me, he couldn't care less is what he'd said before. I wasn't sure why Owen was confused, but that's why I was confused.

I bit my lip thoughtfully, glancing over to Owen. "What about Zoey? You're going to seriously ruin your chances with her by bringing another girl as your date."

He groaned, running a hand over his face before he said, "I don't like-"

"Waiting for an answer," Luka blurted, confusing me even more. His eyes were wide and in Owen's direction, as if trying to convey some type of hidden message I couldn't quite understand in them. "He doesn't like waiting for an answer, so you should really go ahead and do that. Zoey will be fine. Giana was calling you Chlo."

I nodded, flitting my gaze between both boys slowly. "Uh, okay. I guess yes then, Owen."

Owen grinned, but it didn't meet his eyes. His eyes were swimming with curiosity, confusion and nervousness. He nodded, pulling me into a hug and I leant into his touch. "Thanks Chloe."

"Of course," I mumbled with a smile, getting up from my position on the bed and heading towards the door. When I got side to side with Luka, he leant towards my ear, whispering, "Wear black."

"Why?" I whispered back, unsure why we were whispering.

He looked me up and down thrice before agonizingly slowly brushing his lips against my ear. "You look sexy in black."

As I fully passed him, I expect him to turn around and follow. What I didn't expect was for him to slam the door shut and for the low hum of voices to start up in Owen's room. But, confused as I was, I headed downstairs. The clacking of the keyboard I'd grown so used to brought me into the kitchen and I took a seat beside Gia. "What did you need?"

She glanced up confusedly, raising an eyebrow. "Huh?"

"Luka said you were calling me."

Giana furrowed her eyebrows, glancing at her screen before settling back on me. "Uh, no I wasn't."

And for the umpteenth time today, I was left sitting confused and questioning the two boys talking heatedly upstairs.