Brooke pressed Peyton up against the wall, drawing her face in close.
"Br… Brooke, what are you doing?" Peyton asked weakly, her heart racing a million miles an hour. She sank as far into the wall as she could, very aware of the people around them staring.
"You want Max to want you?" Brooke asked coyly, hovering motionless in front of Peyton, her eyes dark with lust. Peyton tried to respond, but only choked out a murmur. "Well, this is my way of helping you out." Brooke leaned in a little farther, her lips just barely touching Peyton's, ignoring the blonde's flinch. But she did hesitate, waiting for permission, watching Peyton's eyes intently.
"I don't-" Peyton paused, noticing that when she spoke her lips grazed Brooke's. Still, she couldn't push the girl off of her. "…How would this-"
"Boys love lesbians," Brooke explained. "If we're lesbians, Max loves us." Brooke turned her head, sparing Peyton's lips, and the blonde sighed in relief. But then she felt Brooke at her neck and she tensed, wondering how much self control she had left before she tackled Brooke to the ground. "I'd step out of the picture by then, though, and then he'd love you." In reality, Brooke had no intention of stepping out of the picture, nor did she have any plans to let Peyton even step one foot in it. She could smell the lust on her friend: It was the most potent thing she'd smelled in her life. And as she claimed the blonde's neck her theory was only confirmed. Peyton tightened her grip on Brooke, no longer pushing the brunette away. Brooke lifted her head, catching Max's eye and holding it steady. Then she pulled away, looking Peyton in the face and smiling devilishly. Everything Peyton was feeling, every thought in her head, was written in her big, beautiful green eyes like never before. It was easy for Brooke to see it now. "I was wondering how long it would take you to admit it," she said. Peyton still tried to play dumb, her heart hammering so hard she thought she might pass out.
"What?" she asked weakly, almost a whisper. Then Brooke leaned in, capturing the blonde's lips easily, and let Peyton deepen the kiss. The brunette smiled again.
"Exactly…" she mumbled between kisses, and she pinned Peyton against the wall, her thigh between the blonde's legs. Max stared, mouth open, wishing he was seeing this because he was completely wasted. But he wasn't, and with that in mind he couldn't decide how he felt about what he was looking at. Peyton was supposed to become his new girl from this night on, but that plan felt a little impaled by a certain Brooke Davis.
"Is that the cheerleader you liked?" One of his friends said, coming up from behind him. They laughed mockingly.
"Yeah…. Shut up!" Max complained.
"You shoulda just gone for Brooke-"
"You do realize that Brooke is the one making out with Peyton, right?" Max's friend paused, looking closer.
"Aw, damn, man. That sucks for you." He paused for another minute. "Wanna get drunk with us? It'll make it better, I swear."
"Yeah," Max said.
Brooke looked over Peyton's shoulder, smiling when she saw Max and his friend retreat.
"He's gone," she said. Peyton turned her head, her back still against the wall, her chest breathing deeply. Brooke looked back to her. "Wanna go home?" She asked coyly. Her lips curled into a dark smile.
"My house," Peyton said, leaning forward and capturing Brooke's lips again. She moved down to the brunette's neck. "My bed's bigger."