Meant Something to Me
AN: I want to dedicate this story to one very special and very important person in my life – my best friend Aly. Aly, you have completely inspired me again and again – YOU helped me write this. When I lost my drive to do it anymore, you kept pushing and pushing and encouraging – THANK YOU! And more than that, I finished this for you. It's part of your birthday present – SURPRISE! I hope that you have the most amazing 16th birthday because you deserve it. So I dedicate this story to you on your birthday, my best friend and my inspiration. Happy Birthday, Aly. I love you!
PS – the second half of this has not been beta'ed (Aly usually does it for me when I let her read! Woops!)
Shuddering breaths slid from plump lips and emerald eyes stared blindly ahead at the many patrons of the beat-down pub. Men lusted after her, the city's newest fashion queen, their pants tightening while bits of drool gathered behind their lips. The smallest dalliance of self control sent the spittle dripping down their unwashed faces and she grimaced each and every time. Every few minutes a new drink was placed before her, another drunken man fool enough to believe she was interested, but she turned them away with a quick flick of the wrist.
She was a threat to the women around her, she soon realized, their eyes darkening with jealousy: they wanted to both be her and destroy her. She shouldn't have been surprised, really, it was high school all over again: the boys wanted their chance under her skirt, and the girls just wanted to rip her hair out.
Beautifully painted eyelids shielded her from prying eyes for a moment, but the images splashing behind those thin slits of flesh sent her heart into a tailspin. A perfectly manicured hand, nails the brightest shade of red, met the air as she ordered a shot of tequila, downing it in one quick gulp. She shook her head as the bitter warmth burned its way down her throat, her wavy auburn tresses flirting with the air as the fire finally reached her belly. Her dainty hand slid across the filthy counter for the lemon slice, sucking the sour juices before trailing a lick on the back of her hand, the salt creating a calming effect as it rested on her tongue.
Flames erupted in her lungs as she inhaled deeply, the harsh taste of smoke and tequila mixing as they swirled down her esophagus. The feeling was oddly soothing in her current frame of mind. She inhaled again, closing her eyes as she shut her mind down, focusing on nothing but the eternal blaze within her chest.
All sound evaporated but for the rapid beat of her damaged heart, the gentle bubump bubump drowning out the meaningless chatter of bar patrons and the dull, lifeless music spilling from the jukebox. Her breathing quickened, senses suddenly on overload as an image danced behind her deep emeralds, one of final heartbreak after a night of magic.
X.x.X
"We're going to be a power couple!" she placed a delicate hand on his arm, eyes warm as she glanced at him the way she always had, the way that drove her mad with its obviousness. And yet he had never really noticed it the way others had. The way everyone did.
"He's going to be a famous novelist, and I'm going to have a fabulous fashion line," she added, hoping he couldn't hear her overly hopeful tone.
"But we're still going to have time to have a big family."
The way he gazed at her was like every dream she'd ever had, every moment she'd ever treasured. And she could see their future shining brightly before her, just as she'd once allowed herself to imagine it. But she was in no way naïve enough to believe that this moment mattered to him… not in the world where Peyton Sawyer existed. Not in the world where Brooke Davis and Peyton Sawyer were friends. Not ever.
"Two boys and a girl!" she exclaimed, allowing herself to dream for a moment what they'd look like. They'd be beautiful, a mixture of broody intelligence and cheery fun, blue or green eyes, wavy brown locks or soft blonde tresses. Beautiful.
"And I'll coach little league."
He sounded almost proud, like he too was harboring a once sought-after dream, like he too remembered that this had once been their future. Not his and Peyton's… but theirs. Broody and Cheery.
"Ooh! And I'll back treats for the team!" The young author gave her an amused look, eyes lighting up innocently as he stared at her, and she quickly amended her statement, "Or buy them."
The ruse carried on, images dancing in her drunken mind as she pictured what they could have had, what she'd wanted with him. What she'd given up for his happiness. For Peyton's. And all for nothing.
"And we'll spend summers in our beach house."
"And winter in the south of France."
He looked at her lovingly, her torturous heart missing a few beats in the process as she forgot for just a few moments that this wasn't reality. Not hers anyway, "It won't matter where we are, as long as we're together."
There was a moment as they gazed at each other where the world slipped away, and suddenly it was high school again. She was just a cheerleader looking to be loved. And he was just a basketball player looking to be needed. But as she stared into his hazy blue wonderland, it hit her. This wasn't love. This was a heartbroken boy drowning his sorrows with the one person he knew would never leave him completely, the one person he knew would push him back to his heart's true desire.
Peyton Sawyer.
X.x.X
"It's always Peyton," soft lips rasped as she lifted another bitter shot, the liquid burning a trail of hate down the young girl's throat. She turned to reach for the lemon slice, finding the offending thing dangling before her eyes, and she lifted her gaze, staring into wickedly tempting baby blues. She opened her mouth and slid forward on the stool, the material of her skirt sliding up her lithe thighs as she bent forward to take the sour piece of fruit between her teeth. Hazel burned on blue as nimble fingers slid the fruit from luscious lips, and desire burned between the two as the blue eyed devil slid the salt shaker across the bar.
They hadn't seen each other in over three years, though she'd seen him a lot in the tabloids, and she hadn't liked him much when she had known him, but seeing him now felt a little more like home. He may have been the bad part of home… but it was still home none the less. There was a comfort in knowing that as screwed up as her life had become, there were still people more screwed up than her.
Chris Keller was the perfect reminder of that.
A hand snapped forward, nails scratching his scalp as her fingers tangled in his messy hair. She pulled his head to the side and her delicate tongue slid across salty flesh. A smirk spread over his lips as the salt was sprinkled, tongue once again lapping at delectable flesh.
"Delicious," Brooke whispered, her voice hitting his ear with a seductive curl, nose nuzzling where hair met soft skin.
"Chris Keller knew you'd come to his show if he sent you an invite," the words rolled off his tongue with ease and the girl rolled her eyes heavenward.
She put some space between them, her flirty buzz now completely squashed by his refusal to just go with the flow and leave his ego at the door, "Don't get so cocky, Keller. Your invite mentioned alcohol – I wouldn't have come otherwise."
"Oh you wound me, beautiful," he laughed, clutching his hand over his heart as he leaned in, "So how'd you like the show, Dimples?"
"I'm drunk and it only lasted two seconds," a smirk slid over her lips, brow raising, "Sounds kind of like our night together in high school."
"Oh and she goes straight for the jugular!"
His head fell back as he gave a hearty laugh, the former cheerleader unable to stop her slight smile, the first real one she'd had since her night with Lucas. She slid one of the shots to him, looking away from that smirk that just seemed to know every thought running through her head, "Drink up, Keller. We're both way too sober to be having this, or any, conversation."
He tapped his glass to hers and tossed it back. Thin musician's fingers clasped her hand and brought her wrist to his lips. Her eyes narrowed but she didn't pull away. His tongue slid over her flesh slowly, the man tracing a word on her skin as the salt was washed from her skin.
She watched those blue eyes drop to her lips, her own falling as his body hovered an inch from hers. Their lips met just long enough for his tongue to curl around the lemon and pull it from her mouth to his. She had to force herself not to react to the now foreign feeling of lips against hers.
She hadn't been with anyone since Chase, and that had ended months ago. Well, Lucas had kissed her. He'd tasted like liquor and heartbreak. Had he ever not tasted like some form of a broken heart?
The lemon was back on the table before her, crushed and flat. Empty. Somehow she thought she knew exactly what that felt like. She'd felt that way since she was 17. Some things never changed.
A giggle escaped Brooke's lips before she could stifle it, the musician looking at her in surprised confusion. She slid forward on the stool, her skirt rising a little to show tanned skin, and ran her thumb along his bottom lip. She held up the small seed that had been stuck to his lip, their eyes meeting in amusement.
"You're a mess," she muttered, a playful glint in her eye.
The alcohol raced through her veins and she curled her fingers into the lapels of his shirt, all pretence gone as she met his gaze straight on, "I'm drunk. Take me home."
They had just barely made it into the elevator of her building before they were moving toward each other. Their lips met in the middle and both sighed as if they'd been waiting all night for this. And in a way, they had.
Chris's fingers curved down into the waist of her skirt and he pulled her closer. He dipped his head as she pushed up onto her toes, their lips moving viciously together. She pulled hard on the buttons of his shirt, neither batting an eye as the doors opened and an older couple stared at them in morbid fascination.
"I've wanted you for so long," he rasped, lips moving down her neck sloppily as the door slammed closed again.
Brooke chose not to think too hard on the implications of that statement. She pulled his mouth back to hers to shut him up, the boy letting out a loud groan. He pulled her off her feet, her ankles locking around his back as he pressed her against the mirror of the elevator. They rocked against one another, still mostly clothed, and she had to hold back her loud groan as his bulge pressed against her sensitive heat.
"Too long," she whined, red nails scraping his scalp, "Been too long."
His fingers dug almost painfully into the back of her upper thigh as they stumbled out of the elevator. She was quickly discovering that she loved kissing him, her tongue sliding over that luscious bottom lip as he backed them into the wall. She giggled a little when he tripped, that giggle quickly turning into a muffled cry when his hand slipped between them.
His fingers danced up her thigh, stroking her center through her panties. He smirked when her thighs tightened and she whimpered his name, her apartment key somehow making its way into the door.
She was surprised when he actually paused to relock her door before carrying her back to the bedroom. But again, she chose not to think too heavily on it. It was an easy task once she was on her back with this god of a musician between her thighs. Not that she'd ever tell him she thought of him that way. Chris Keller's ego definitely does not need stroked. Ever!
They were rough and quick, clothes scattered in every direction and cries bouncing off the walls. He seemed to remember the things she'd liked from their hook up 4 years ago, using those along with some new techniques he'd clearly picked up since then. His tongue did things that drove her wild and his fingers seemed to always be looking for a new way to touch her.
Fire built in her belly as he filled her completely, their bodies moving together in a mess of limbs and excitement. They'd done this before, but this time was different. There was no guilt of being a cheater or the burn of young love being pushed away for physical intimacy. His teeth left trails of bite marks along her collarbone and she was sure she'd have finger shaped bruises on her thighs for weeks.
"Chris!" she cried, nails curling into his shoulder blade for dear life as she came undone beneath him.
He followed her over the edge, his head falling into the valley between her breasts. Her thighs still shook and her breath was heavy, the girl letting her eyes fall closed as she enjoyed the afterglow. Under any other circumstances she'd be kicking him out immediately, but for now she was content to lay here with him.
He was the reason she'd stopped thinking about Lucas for a little while, after all. He deserved a moment to just breathe.
His lips brushed her left breast and she smiled a little, her fingers sliding through his hair of their own accord. It was peaceful. Serene. She hadn't been touched in months and now she remembered why she'd always loved sex so much.
*So goodnight moon and goodnight you
When you're all that I think about
All that I dream about
How'd I ever breathe witho- *
And just like that, the mood was ruined.
Brooke clutched the sheet to her chest as he grabbed his phone, the name shining proudly at her like a punch in the gut: Olivia. Without even hearing a word, she knew she'd been made a fool of. She'd either become the other woman unknowingly… or become another notch in Chris Keller's bedpost. Neither was a very appealing option for her.
He answered as he was pulling on his jeans, voice quiet and soft, "Hey, sweetheart. Yeah, I'm on my way home now."
He glanced back at her for a moment and nodded at the voice on the other line, "I was just at my show, but I'm on my way."
He smiled and glanced away from her, Brooke feeling more foolish as each second passed. It had been a long time since she'd gotten herself into a situation like this. It still sucked every time, "I miss you more."
He pulled his shirt over his head and nodded, "I love you too, Liv."
Their eyes met as he hung up the phone, a guilt in his eyes that made her want to smack him across his usually smug face. How dare he let her help him cheat! And to not even say a word the entire time! Typical Chris Keller! Asshole!
"Hey, I'm sorry, that was my-"
"Whatever, Keller. Just get out."
"Come on, Davis, it's not what you think," he started, hands shoved into his pockets awkwardly. "Look, I'll call you, okay? I've got another show in the city coming up if you want to get together and maybe-"
She rolled her eyes and glared again, her natural defenses about guys kicking in full force, "Don't even bother. This was what it was… just go."
It wasn't until she heard the click of her lock that she realized why she was so angry. For an entire night, she'd forgotten that Lucas Scott existed. She'd forgotten that she was just the footnote in her best friend's love story. And now here she was again, alone. The dark footnote in Chris Keller's current girlfriend's story.
She didn't even know this time.
xX ~ C & B~ Xx
For three weeks he didn't call. He didn't text. He didn't send her any invitations through friends of friends. He didn't harass her CEO – coincidentally her mother – for her new cell phone number. And he didn't think about that night at all. Not once… not even that time he caught sight of the scratches on his back and the hickey on his shoulder. Nope. He especially didn't think of her then.
Liar!
Chris stared down at his sloppy scrawl with annoyance, mediocre lyrics staring him in the face and reminding him that he hadn't produced a workable single in over four years. He crumpled the page and tossed it in the trash, pen tapping rhythmically against the mahogany table.
He lifted his head, a smile gracing his lips as a soft voice reached him from the other room. He closed his eyes and listened to her sing, completely enraptured in her off-key tone and terrible volume control. She missed a lyric and his smile only widened, hair falling into his eyes as he shook his head and laughed quietly.
"Olivia, baby, come here a minute!" He called, pushing his notebook away and standing. He adjusted his thin tie and dark pants, glancing at the barely visible bathroom mirror and trying to decide if this was the outfit he should wear to the benefit tonight.
"Liv!" He called again, shoving his hands into his pockets as she approached. For a moment he was winded as he stared at her. She looked exactly like her mother, that dark hair and those vibrant eyes – a different color, but definitely her mother's shape. He smiled down at her, lost for a moment in a memory of a woman he used to know.
"So… what do you think, Liv?"
X.x.X
Soft lips parted in a sigh as the brown eyed angel gazed at the blue eyed devil next to her, her hand sliding across the creaking bench to tangle with his. Their fingers twisted in the most delicious of ways as his gaze met hers. His casual smirk once again lit across his lips, those lips whose gentle curve could make a woman forget all about principles.
Across the chipping bench he slid, arm curling around her tiny frame as their linked fingers slid over her hip. She cuddled into his embrace, breathing in the soothing scent of whiskey and mint. That's one thing she'd always loved about him, how effortlessly beautiful everything about him was. The way that he smelled when he wasn't overdoing the cologne to impress someone and the way his lips fell into a soft smile when he was thinking. And the way his hand felt in hers.
She loved that too.
"Thank you for tonight. I really needed this, Chris. I don't think I could have asked for anything better."
The man's lips twitched with cheekiness, and his voice teased her away from her innocent observations, "Chris Keller can think of one thing better."
Dark curls fell listlessly over a bare shoulder as the girl tilted her head, observing the little specks of navy in the man's unusually bright eyes. Their beauty seemed to transcend everything she'd ever known, and she decided at that moment that this was what she loved most about him. Lashes framed the shining orbs with a ring of darkness, making them pop against his light skin.
How long had she known him that she'd not noticed such brilliance with every glance?
Her tiny fingers inched forward, seeking the warmth of his flesh as her palm met with a smooth cheek. The devil turned his head, his lips brushing the palm of her hand as he searched her face for some sign of resistance, some sign that this moment wasn't the one she wanted. When none was found, the man stood on long legs, his thin form clothed in black slacks and a dark blue sweater, his magical lips looking more and more tempting with each glance she gave him.
He held out his hand to her, long musician's fingers coaxing her forward like he'd done with hundreds of girls before her. But she wasn't them. She wasn't one of those mindless drones whose only worth to him was in how good she looked naked.
No, she wasn't that at all.
"You're on, Keller," the girl cooed as she too got to her feet, tangling her fingers with his again before her other hand snaked around his body to land in his back pocket. She gave a squeeze, fingers digging into the denim that covered the ass she'd seen many times from backstage as intoxicated eyes stared into an even more inebriated gaze, "Show me what you got."
"Watch your hands, gorgeous. You're gonna give a guy the wrong idea," the musician teased, his head dipping and his warm breath hitting her ear drunkenly, "unless that was your plan all along. Tease."
"Or maybe it's the right idea," she whispered back, her tongue doing a quick sweep of his ear, "Maybe it's the only right idea."
"You don't mean that," he gasped quietly, closing his eyes for a moment and breathing in the calming air, his fingers squeezing hers a bit as he tried to gain control. He pushed her back just a bit, holding onto the small bit of self control he somehow maintained despite the many drinks he'd had tonight and the gorgeous brunette currently trying to press herself closer to him, "you're just hurting and confused, San. We can't do this."
"Should I be offended?" she cried out softly, throwing her body away from him and shoving him with her little hands as pain radiated in eyes that had previously been filled with forgetful happiness, "You'll take any girl in your bed… but not me. Why?"
"Because you're my best friend," he hesitated, "My only friend."
His soft lips turned down into a frown, brows furrowing as he reached out for her, sighing loudly when the look on her face didn't change, "Look, Sandra, I've been that guy before, okay, and for the first time, I really don't want-"
"Am I not good enough?" her bottom lip trembled as she interrupted him and ignored the hand offered to her, too caught in her own humilation to really hear him, "Wh-what's so wrong with me that you can't see me like you see them? Like you see all of them?"
Her hands shot out in anger, shoving him backward into the bench where they'd previously been sitting. The man toppled back and barely managed to keep his balance, eyes narrowing in her direction, "You'll fuck any random whore who says your music means something to them, but when I… when I just need to forget for one night…" her voice trailed off for a moment, and when she carried on, her tone was lighter, desperate, "That's all I need, Chris. One night… I just need to feel again. Please…"
The man tilted his head, eyes mixing with confusion and hesitance as the one girl he'd never even truly considered propositioned him. It made him sick, being here with her and knowing that all she wanted from him was the one thing he could easily have given to anyone else. He'd never cared before. He was Chris Keller, notorious womanizer who cared about no one but himself.
But she was Sandra. Sweet funny, charismatic San. The best friend who had never let him down and never asked for more than he could give. She was the light to his dark, the innocent to his wicked, and the insecure to his arrogant. She was beautiful in all forms of the word and yet something held the man back. Maybe it was loyalty or fear. Or maybe it was the knowledge that if he didn't put a stop to it now, everything was going to change for them.
Walk away, Chris, he told himself, trying to hold steady in his resolution, this is San. Just walk away and save you both the trouble.
"San, it's not you, it's-"
"Don't you dare," she growled, curls shaking, "Don't you dare pull the 'it's not you, it's me' shit! Not with me."
"Look, I get it, yeah? You're depressed and want something to numb the pain, but it's not me. Chris Keller is a lot of things, and yeah okay, an asshole is one of them, but he does have a conscience."
Her eyes narrowed, "Oh really? And have you ever used it?"
A thin shoulder shrugged, "I'm using it now."
Too late.
As soon as the girl stepped forward and her fingers curled into the folds of his shirt, the musician's resistance began to fade. Something about her desperation made his skin crawl with undisclosed need and suddenly he wanted to make her pain go away; he wanted to be the one to make her smile.
Call it selfishness, his need to destroy everything good in his life for a single moment of what was sure to be a pleasurable mistake. He would lose her… after everything they had both already lost. The one friend he had left after he had burned every bridge he'd ever crossed in his life.
His eyes met hers again and his decision was made for him as the last bit of conscience Chris Keller ever had melted away. He figured, Hey, we'll just blame this on the whiskey tomorrow.
Without much more thought, his head tipped forward in a complacent nod. The wind picked up then, sending tendrils of hair into two sets of eyes and breaking the tortured gaze of two best friends about to change the game. Within seconds, the woman was upon him, her fingers digging into impossibly soft hair as their lips met for the first time.
Angels didn't sing when their lips touched, and butterflies were nowhere in sight when a strong hand slid up the girl's back, pulling her closer. The world didn't tip on its axis, and all the sadness in the world didn't fade away. But for one brief moment, the doe eyed angel could breathe again; she could feel.
She dug her nails into the devil's scalp as her lips bruised his with their intensity. She could feel that he wasn't quite with her, guilt etching away the man he used to be. The man people still saw when they looked at him.
A user.
A whore.
A man with great talent… and a limited personality.
"I just want to feel," she whimpered again, her fingers pulling at the buttons of his shirt before they had even taken a step toward the tour bus. Her hands were shaking and the effort to remove the cloth was more difficult than her drink-addled mind had anticipated. She pulled at the top desperately, the buttons not coming free until his own nimble fingers took place of hers. Neither took notice of where the shirt landed and neither saw when it was picked up in the wind and sent spiraling yards away.
"One night," she mumbled repeatedly against his lips, as if trying to convince them both that this one night wouldn't change anything but her ability to feel, "Just one night."
Lips tangled together fiercely as Chris pulled the girl tighter against him, his hands sliding down her clothed back as they stumbled toward the bus, backs hitting the slightly ajar door roughly. Their movements were sluggish from the amount of alcohol they'd consumed and the overall feeling of exhaustion from recent events, but still they trekked on, pushing at the door until there was room for their attached forms to slip through.
The second the door slid shut behind them, they fell back on the collapsible bed, fingers tugging at clothes and tangling in tresses. Buttons ripped, fingers clawed, lips sucked, and clothes flew as the two transitioned from friends to lovers, ignoring the world around them as lust and want took over.
On some level he knew this was wrong. They both did.
And on some level he felt guilty.
But he was still Chris Keller… so when her lips were on his, he couldn't seem to care.
X.x.X
"What do you think?" he asked again, glancing down at the tiny girl. "How does Daddy look?"
Olivia skipped forward, her pink converse scuffing the floor as she tripped over her princess gown. Her tiara rested lopsided in her tangled curls and big dangly clip-on earrings hung against her shoulders. She curtsied and he bowed his head in response, taking her tiny hand in his and kissing her knuckles.
She seemed pleased with that oh so royal greeting and finally looked him over, her cheeky smile slipping over her face, "You look bery hamsome, Daddy!"
"And you look very beautiful, my little princess," he dipped down and pulled her onto his hip, her skinny arms curling around his neck.
He breathed in the scent of her Disney mermaid shampoo and snuggled her to his chest. Olivia curled her fingers into his tie, lips curving down in a slight pout, "It's nots blue."
Chris bounced her on his hip and reached over for his blue tie, smiling when she placed it over his head as soon as he had the black one off. Her tiny hands worked quickly to tie it sloppily the way he'd taught her. They both admired it in the mirror, his smile softer than anyone but she had ever seen.
"It looks perfect, princess."
He rested his cheek against the top of her head, not even caring that her tiara was pressing painfully against his ear. Those blue eyes that were the perfect mixture of his and her mother's looked up at him like he was her hero. She smiled and kissed his cheek, her hand lightly patting his hair to flatten it.
"Eberbody is gonna love you!" She raised her brow in that way that was purely her mother, "Know why?"
He shook his head slowly and she giggled, holding her hand to her heart dramatically, "Cuz you is a Keller! And you're my daddy! My daddy is the bestest!"
He laughed and hugged her to him again, lips brushing her hair, "Olivia Keller is the best Keller there is," he corrected.
"Yup, tha's the truths," she agreed easily, her squeals filling the house as he set her down and chased her back to her bedroom.
xX ~ C & B~ Xx
"No, P. Sawyer, I'm listening!" Brooke lied into the phone, leaning forward onto the railing and bracing herself with her elbows.
Her mother would be furious if she saw her wrinkling the dress like this. She bit her bottom lip and leaned further over, watching people come and go from the luxurious hotel. She took the small victory of pissing her mother off to heart, missing all of Peyton's story up until:
"We're getting married, Brookie!"
The brunette fell forward for a moment, catching herself by the railing before she could topple over. Her bottom lip shook and she let out a teary breath, "W-what?"
"We're getting married," the blonde repeated happily, an usually exuberant flair to her voice, "Luke came back and he asked me again. It was a mistake to say no the first time. I want you to be my maid of honor!"
A lithe hand covered the brunette's lips and she forced excitement into her voice, "Oh P. that's… that's amazing!"
The blonde breathed out, a frown in her tone, "Brooke, are you crying?"
"I'm just so happy for you!" she rasped, voice cracking, "You know how much I love weddings. I would love to be your maid of honor, P. Sawyer… almost Scott," she tacked on, dabbing at her eyes to preserve her mascara.
Peyton was none the wiser, her smile returning as she breathed happily into the phone, "I have to go, B. Davis. Lucas wants to go out and celebrate. I'll call you in a couple weeks with wedding ideas! I love you!"
"I love you too," she whispered, wrist going limp and phone falling to the pavement below her.
There it was. Lucas Scott and Peyton Sawyer were getting married. They were getting their happy ending. The girl Brooke loved was marrying the boy she loved. The only boy she'd ever loved.
She dropped her face into her hands and let the tears fall free, thankful for the cool air keeping her head clear. Her mascara smeared down her cheeks, but she didn't even care at this point, unable to feel anything but the pure heartbreak deep in her chest.
She didn't know how long she'd been out there, ignoring her own benefit party, but she quickly wiped at her eyes when the door behind her closed. A hand appeared before her face, her broken cell phone resting in the palm. She raised her gaze to find two baby blues staring at her with concern and something she couldn't quite place. She snatched the phone away and stood up, "What? Come to get a laugh at how screwed up my life is?"
Chris stepped back, adjusting his tie nervously and slowly shaking his head, "I heard about the benefit and I wanted to congratulate you. Chris Keller does have a heart you know."
He smirked but it seemed forced to her, "He doesn't use it often, but it's there."
She looked back at the ground and he hesitantly took the seat next to hers, "You want to talk about it? I promise not to cry this time. Chris Keller still gets lonely too sometimes."
"The two people I love most are getting married," she said softly, wringing her fingers slowly. "The man I love is marrying someone else and I don't even know if I still love him or if I'm just stuck on this idea of who I thought we'd be."
"I was in love once," he said after a moment of silence, her head shooting up in surprise, "She was my best friend in the world and I fell for her. But she left me."
His eyes clouded a little as he thought of Sandra, hair falling into his eyes again, "Just when I was ready to give up the rockstar lifestyle for her, she bailed on me. I haven't been able to write a song since. Isn't that completely pathetic?" He laughed quietly, self deprecation in his blood, "A musician who can't write a single song."
Laughter bubbled over before she could stop it, the brunette holding up a hand at his genuinely wounded look, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm not laughing at you, I promise!"
The harder she fought her laughter, the harder it came, until he too was laughing at how absolutely pathetic they were, complaining to each other about broken hearts. She looked up at him once they'd both calmed, perfectly shaped teeth gnawing on her bottom lip, "Do you want to go get a drink? This party is more for my mom than for me anyway. She'll be thrilled to take all the publicity on herself."
"Sure," he offered her his arm, their eyes meeting, "I'll even let you pick the bar."
Twenty minutes later and Brooke's giggles were filling the corner section of the small bar they'd found. She leaned into Chris's shoulder, her fingers clenching around his arm as her head shook from side to side, "Oh that is awful! Please tell me you made that up!"
He smirked and shook his head, leaning back on his elbows and pulling at his tie to loosen it, "Nah, it's completely true. I got expelled from three different high schools after that one. I thought my foster mom was going to kill me, but she was cool about it. She said a little recreational drug use at school never hurt anyone."
That sent Brooke into another fit of giggles, the girl slowly tipping back her shot. Blurring eyes landed on him and his smirk grew in its arrogance, "So the rumors are true then?"
"Which rumors?"
She tilted her head cutely, hair falling down around her shoulders, "You know… that the reason you stopped doing concerts and stuff was because of a drug habit."
The humor left his face but he didn't seem bothered by the assumption. Baby blues rolled back a little and he shook his head, "I smoked a little pot when I was 16, Davis. I'm not a drug addict. The rumors are crap."
She gnawed lightly on her bottom lip, a habit her mother hated yet seemed to happening a lot more now that he was around. Her eyes softened and her full attention was on him, "Why did you stop?"
Chris thought of his daughter, those dark ringlets and playful wide eyes. His own smile was soft and he had to force himself to speak again, one shoulder rising slowly, "More important things popped up and Chris Keller changed his priorities around."
"Brooke Davis changed hers too," she said, mocking him playfully.
He nodded and sipped his drink, his knee tapping hers as he jiggled his foot on the base of her stool, "I know your heart is broken right now, but Lucas Scott isn't the one for you, you know."
She snorted and glanced his way, "What makes you think you have any idea who the one for me is?"
His lips quirked up, "Call it my… Keller instinct."
Brooke giggled and shoved his arm, eyes rolling to the side, "You're so lame. Only a loser would quote his own CD to impress a girl."
She lowered her eyes to the ground and frowned a little, her playful side completely gone now as she thought over their reason for being here at all, "Why did you come tonight? We didn't exactly leave things on good terms."
The musician nodded, knowing she'd ask it eventually. He tapped his fingers against her knee absentmindedly, head tilting to the side and eyes shifting, "I moved around a lot when I was a kid, and Tree Hill was the only place I stayed for a long period of time. I know we weren't really friends, but I always kind of thought of all of you guys that way. Meeting up with you last month, well, it felt nice. I wanted to see you again."
"And what about your girlfriend? Olivia?" His eyes shot to hers and she shrugged before she could stop herself, "I saw her name on your phone that night…"
His lips quirked up and he glanced away with a quiet laugh, "Olivia is not my girlfriend. You're way off."
Before she could ask, her arm was grabbed and she was pulled from her stool. Victoria stood above her, eyes livid, "You left your own party like a spoiled brat to get drunk with this low life? What is wrong with you?"
"Moth-"
"Victoria," she corrected harshly, glaring at Chris as she tugged on her daughter's arm, "We're going, now say goodbye."
Brooke looked at Chris and bit her bottom lip, "Chris, I'm sorry, I have to-"
"Call me," he nodded, glaring at Victoria as she hovered there in the middle of them, "Brooke, this was-"
"Yeah it was," she agreed, the two sharing one last smile before she was dragged from the bar, her heels dangling from her fingers and her dress dragging on the ground.
xX ~ C & B~ Xx
Another month went by before they saw each other again. But at least this time it hadn't been suffered in pure silence. No, this time they couldn't wait to speak again, both way more excited than they let on to each other.
It started with a text, just a few teasing words on the screen: Guess you don't suck so much after all, Keller ;)
Which then turned into short phone conversations about nothing: "My mother is driving me insane! Event after event after event!"
He let out a breathy laugh into the phone, helping Olivia slide her arms through her dress as he spoke, "Why do you let her control what you do anyway? She's clearly just bitter because you're the younger, hotter, more talented version of herself. Though, you know… Chris Keller DOES have a thing for cougars."
Brooke bit her bottom lip and leaned into the windowsill, looking down over New York as she clutched her phone to her ear, no longer fazed by his constant need to make a joke about everything, "It's just so hard to tell her no. For the first time ever, she's looking at me like I matter."
"Just because she doesn't see it, doesn't mean you don't matter," he said seriously, his tone quickly changing to a teasing one when the mood hung a little too heavy above them, "And if Chris Keller says you matter, it must be true. He never lies."
"Oh," she mocked, their playful banter continuing, "Because Chris Keller just knows everything."
He watched Olivia skip off toward her bedroom, her dress floating as she twirled around, and smiled, "Well that's what I've been told anyway."
Brooke smirked and glanced down at the cars that passed, a part of her wishing she could be in one of them, headed for anywhere new. Anywhere but here. She loved New York dearly; loved the shopping and the fashion, the busy streets. All of it. But sometimes she just really missed the quietness of Tree Hill."
"What else do they tell you, Keller?" she asked after a moment, her finger mimicking the trail of rain against her window.
"How talented I am mostly."
She snorted and her eyes rolled back, "Of course they do. Do they also tell you that you're completely full of yourself?"
"On occasion," he grinned.
But still they hadn't met again. He'd spent his time with Olivia or in the recording studio, trying to work out the melodies he constantly had playing in his mind these days. And her time was spent babysitting Victoria at the office and picking out her newest models without breaking her self-set rules about body size.
She didn't tell anyone they were talking. When Rachel asked who she'd been on the phone with, or Haley or Peyton asked why she'd been so distant, she played it off like it was nothing. She told herself that it was just because it was Chris Keller and she was ashamed to be friendly with a guy like that, but the more she thought about it, the more she started to realize that maybe she just didn't want to share that secret side of him she was starting to see.
Brooke glanced down at her phone and trailed her tongue along her bottom lip, rereading the invitation again and again. They were meeting for dinner at her favorite restaurant and if she was honest, the tingling in her belly had very little to do with hunger.
She hadn't even thought about dating since the incident with Lucas and his engagement to Peyton, but now it was all she could think about. Did Chris think this was a date? Did he want it to be? Did she want it to be?
She walked back into the bathroom with a heavy sigh and smoothed out her dress, checking her makeup again for the hundredth time. She looked stunning. Her makeup was smoky but light and she wore a red dress that cut off at mid-thigh with heels that made her legs look endless and sexy.
"This is a date," she told her reflection, her smile widening before she could stop it. She nodded resolutely, cheeks tinged a natural pink, "It's a date."
An hour passed and she was still waiting for him, her heart heavy and anger burning in her chest at being stood up. She kicked off her heels angrily and unzipped her dress, the straps loosely hanging from her shoulders as she heard the knock on her door. One peek through the peephole revealed a nervous looking Chris, a bouquet of wildflowers in one hand.
She hesitated to open the door, pulling her straps back up and rezipping as she finally let him in. Thin arms crossed over her ample chest and she clenched her jaw, "Nice of you to finally show up."
He opened his mouth to explain and she cut him off immediately, "Look, it's late and I'm tired. Can we just not do this tonight? I'm too tired for this, Chris."
He caught the door before she could shut it in his face, "Brooke, wait! I'm really sorry I'm late, but something came up."
"And you couldn't call and tell me that because…?"
He let out a breath and slowly shook his head, "My phone died two hours ago and I don't have your number memorized."
She averted her gaze, so close to giving in already despite her pride telling her not to, and bit the inside of her lip, "What came up? Why were you late?"
Chris shot a hand through his hair, voice soft, "Olivia got sick and she needed me."
Brooke's face hardened instantly, still unaware of who Olivia was to him, "You know what, Keller, I am sick of guys thinking that it's okay to make me a second choice. If you need to play the hero with some other girl, then you don't need to ask me out. I'm better than that."
"Brooke, that's not what's happening here. I promise. Chris Keller is a lot of things, but he doesn't play with people anymore. Olivia's not my-"
"You should probably go," she cut him off again, voice hurt and angry at the same time, "It's late and I have a big meeting in the morning."
"Brooke-"
"Please, Chris," her voice was tired, weary, "Can we just not do this tonight? Go be with Olivia."
"But she's my-" the door slammed and he was left staring at it with a helpless expression, voice coming out raspy and light, "-daughter…"
Brooke dropped her dress where it was and headed straight for bed, not even bothering to remove her makeup or unpin her hair. She slipped beneath the silk sheets and ignored the pain in her chest, repeating one thing to herself again and again until she was fast asleep, "You do not have feelings for Chris Keller. You do not have feelings for Chris Keller. You do not…"
xX ~ C & B~ Xx
Peyton and Lucas came up for a short visit three days later and Brooke was surprised when she found herself genuinely smiling during one of Peyton's eccentric stories. She went on and on about some music museum she had dragged Lucas to, the boy's eyes lighting up with love as he nodded along with her words. And though Brooke had once looked at him with that exact same intensity, the boy had never truly returned it. She saw that now.
They looked… different. Happy. That tortured look to them both had finally faded. They had saved each other the way she had never been able to save them.
"I'm happy for you two," she announced out of nowhere. Tucking a strand of chocolate hair behind her ear and taking a sip of her cherry lemonade, she smiled warmly at her childhood friend.
Peyton looked at her in surprise and a bit of confusion at first, the two girls now alone as Lucas chatted up his editor Lindsey about a soon-to-be-scheduled book signing. Brooke only smiled and replaced her glass with the blonde's hand. Warm fingers curled into the taller girl's palm. She looked at her without hesitation and suddenly she could see her friend the way she used to, the way she had before all the drama with Lucas happened junior year, before they tore each other down and nearly destroyed a friendship that was 11 years in the making. There was no longer that feeling of mistrust and betrayal that had been following her and Peyton for so long now – for once, she finally felt like their friendship had been healed. She finally felt like maybe she and Peyton would be okay, no matter what.
The curly haired girl's eyes softened after a moment, seeming to understand just how much deeper the words were than they sounded. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her bubbly best friend, eyes falling closed as she pulled the smaller girl into her comforting embrace. For as clueless as she sometimes pretended to be, she'd known this was tearing her friend apart, even if Brooke refused to admit it to her and always acted the part of the completely supportive friend, "Thank you, Brookie. You have no idea what that means to me. You're the only person whose opinion honestly matters about all of this."
"Of course, P.," she said immediately, hugging back with as much strength as her tiny frame could exert.
"Actually," she said after a moment, voice low, "I'm kind of hoping that maybe you can return the favor," the brunette finished in a mumble, sitting back and wringing her fingers nervously as she avoided questioning green eyes.
Peyton's pink-painted lips spread into a huge smile and she bounced a little in her seat, "Oh my gosh! You like someone. Who?"
Brooke bit her bottom lip, her toes tapping nervously on the linoleum floor. She still hadn't admitted the words out loud, but damn did she want to. It was tearing her apart – the pretending like she didn't care, like she wasn't falling more for Chris every day. Falling for Chris Keller – the guy responsible for breaking up Nathan and Haley's marriage junior year and breaking her and Lucas up senior year. Also the guy who grew up and treats you like a princess, her mind added softly.
"Oh come on, B. Davis, you know you can tell me anything," Peyton assured her, turning all her attention on the nervous girl. "You know that as long as it's not Lucas I'll back you a hundred percent," she teased, her knee bumping the girl's lightly as she turned serious again, "Who's the guy? No judgment."
"Chris Keller," she finally breathed aloud, her eyes slowly shifting up and meeting her best friend's with a simple hesitance. Her cheeks tinged a bright pink and her fingers curled together in her lap, tension growing between the two the longer they sat there in silence.
Peyton finally cracked a smile and shook her head in amusement. "That's it? That's what has you all in knots; that you like Chris? I mean I didn't even know you two were talking," Peyton added, shrugging one shoulder lightly, "but if you see something in him, there must be something there."
Brooke breathed a huge sigh and slumped into her seat, relief bursting through her when she didn't detect even a hint of judgment in the skinny blonde's voice. Slowly she nodded her head in the positive, voice meek, "I don't even know how it happened, P. He just wormed his way in and now I can't get him out!"
She threw up her hands in frustration, voice rising more and more with every word, "But he keeps ditching me for some girl named Olivia! That's not even a cute name! She's probably some frumpy ex cheerleader whore with a fake tan and split ends!"
By the time she finished, she was practically in a roar, her cheeks bright red and her eyes livid and wide. Peyton tried not to laugh, she honestly did, but the second Lucas came over and caught sight of the fiery brunette, he took a terrified step back, the pure horror on his face sending the artist into a fit of giggles she couldn't stop for the life of her.
Brooke huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the couple. She exhaled loudly when over three minutes had passed and Peyton was still giggling to herself and pointing at Lucas's face, "Worst friend ever!"
Peyton continued to giggle and Brooke stomped her foot, pouting, "Peyton! Help me!"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she leaned back into her boyfriend's arms, letting out one last snort before finally getting a handle on herself.
"Have you tried just asking him about it?" Brooke opened her mouth, but quickly shut it as Peyton shot her a stern look, "And actually gave him a chance to answer before you stormed out and declared him a liar?"
Deep hazels narrowed and Brooke let out a mumbled, "Well not exactly…"
"Just confront him," the blonde advised seriously. She laid her hands over Lucas's on her stomach. "He clearly makes you happy, Brookie. Go see if he really is the guy you want… because I like seeing you like this. Happy suits you."
xX ~ C & B~ Xx
Brooke tucked a thick strand of hair behind her ear and knocked on the door of the apartment before she could chicken out. She'd never even been here before, but she'd always assumed it was just because they were so new, but now as she stood before the door and listened to the sounds of his footsteps heading toward her, she wondered if the reason he had never invited her over was because Olivia was there. She bit her bottom lip and turned to go, tears burning in her eyes at her own internal accusation toward him.
"Brooke?" She paused, a tear falling when she heard his voice behind her. She wiped at her eye and turned toward him quickly, the boy standing in a pair of boxers and nothing else. He rubbed a hand down his face, hair a mess as if he'd just woken from sleep, "Hey, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?"
"Who is Olivia?" she spoke up immediately, noting that he blocked her vision into his apartment. "Look, I like you and that sucks, Chris! It sucks to like you and to know that you're just dragging me along as some kind of consolation prize while you moon over this Olivia woman! I am so tired of being a second choice! I deserve better than that, damn it!"
She wiped at her eyes again, poking him hard in the center of the chest, "Who is she? Why do you keep leaving me for her?"
She started to push past back him into the apartment but he tried to block her, "Brooke, you really shouldn't-"
"Is she in here?" She pushed past him and looked around for any sign of another woman, "She's here, isn't she? Where is she, Chris?"
She spun quickly as she heard movement behind her, but stilling instantly when her eyes fell on the tiny brunette. Olivia stood there in her light purple footy pajamas with a stuffed cat held to her chest, her thumb pressed firmly between her lips. She sucked lightly at the digit and raised her eyes to Brooke before looking at Chris, "Who's thats, Daddy?"
"D-daddy?" Brooke breathed, all her fire gone as the musician swooped down and picked up the small girl.
Chris looked guilty, glancing from his daughter to her slowly, "I have to tuck her back into bed… can you stay? I can explain everything if you just stay."
"O-okay," she whispered.
He disappeared into a bedroom down the hall, and she waited only a moment before following him. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, listening to him speak to his little girl… his daughter.
Chris has a daughter? Chris has a daughter. How is this even happening right now?
His voice flowed melodically down the hall as two pairs of baby blues met in the darkness of the room, and the musician tilted his head, giving a look of disapproval to the tiny girl, "You know, I specifically remember tucking you into bed. What are you still doing up, princess?"
The little girl shrugged her tiny shoulders and looked down, tears welling in her wide eyes as her bottom lip became consumed by ivory teeth. Chris's expression softened as he sat on the edge of her bed, brushing her soft dark curls from her face, the light from the hallway shining brightly on the tiny girl, "What's wrong with Daddy's princess, huh?"
She sniffled a little, still not meeting her father's eyes as her tiny voice filled the room, "My belly is sad…"
Chris opened his mouth to ask, but the little girl, as stubborn and pushy as her mother had once been, interrupted him, "Daddy, why doesn't I have a mommy like alls the other kids?"
The musician's eyes opened wide, his jaw dropping as he stared down at the child, "Wha… what made you ask that sweetheart?"
"Mys friend Alyssa has a mommy," the little girl whispered. "I wants a mommy."
The man slowly closed his eyes, shaking his head and giving his daughter the saddest smile, "I know you do, princess. Your mommy would be here with you if she could, sweetheart. You remember where Daddy told you she is?"
Olivia nodded her head slowly, messy curls sticking up in every direction, "Mommy's in heaven wifs my grandmommy and granddaddy."
"That's right, baby girl."
He leaned down and brushed his lips over her forehead before kissing both her cheeks, "But you have a daddy who loves you more than anything in the whole wide world. I would do anything for you."
She sniffled and nodded, eyes still sad despite her father's reassurance, "You's never gonnas leave me, rights, Daddy?"
"I would never leave you for even a second." Chris sighed and patted her leg, "Scoot over, Munchkin."
The tiny brunette beauty slid along the bed, lifting the edge of her blanket as he climbed in next to her. Thin arms curled themselves around sturdy shoulders as the little girl held tightly to her father, burying her nose in his shirt as his arms pulled her tiny body tight against him, her blanket wrapping around them warmly.
Chris hummed quietly in the otherwise silent room, smoothing her wild curls down with his hand. He watched her thick eyelashes flutter against her cheeks, her little thumb finding its way into her mouth as she sucked lightly. He smiled warmly and slipped from the bed, pushing her stuffed cat back into her embrace. He tucked her blankets in around her and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.
"I love you," he whispered, giving one last look to the girl before slipping back out the door.
He left a small crack and met Brooke's eyes, hesitantly offering her his hand, "Come into the living room."
Brooke curled their fingers together and let him lead her into the other room. Having heard the conversation between him and his daughter, her heart was racing and somehow aching at the same time. She took a seat on the couch, gnawing lightly on her bottom lip, "She's Olivia…"
"Yes," he answered quietly, exhaling quietly, "Olivia is my daughter."
She released a shocked breath, somehow hearing it from his lips making it more real to her. She stared down at their curled fingers then slowly let her eyes shift up and meet his, "And her mother?"
"She's um, she's dead," he carefully let go of her hand and stood, grabbing a photo album from the shelf next to the entertainment system. She could tell that he'd put it together himself from the only half hearted attempt to straighten the pictures and keep similar ones together.
He flipped through the first few, finally finding the only page in the entire album with pictures of her. There were three in all. The first showed Sandra on her own, laughing about something as the wind caught her hair. The second was she and Chris, their eyes locked as they talked quietly about something. And the third, the one that brought tears to Brooke's eyes, was a Polaroid from the hospital. Sandra rested in her hospital bed looking warn and with tears on her cheeks. In her arms lay the most beautiful baby Brooke have ever seen.
"How did she die? Was it right after she had Olivia?"
Chris slowly closed the book, "It's kind of more complicated than that, Brooke."
"Then tell me. Explain it to me," she breathed, eyes pleading. "Please, Keller. Chris… please."
He nodded, taking her hands in his again and clearing his throat, "Sandra and I were friends, and we slept together. I was being Chris Keller, ladies man, but she needed Chris Keller her best friend. We ended up finding out a couple months later that she was pregnant. She was about 8 months along when I saw you all in Honeygrove," he interjected needlessly. "Anyway, um, we decided to be together and try to raise the baby together, but then she changed her mind…"
X.x.X
Dark curls rested back against the shockingly white pillowcases on the cramped hospital bed, Sandra laying back and watching Chris as he slowly rocked their newborn baby in his arms. Her eyes softened at how secure he now seemed – for three hours the night before he had freaked out, telling her there was no way he could be a father. Telling her that he was terrified that he would accidentally drop the child. Or disappoint it. Revealing his worst fear that maybe he wasn't worthy of this.
"I don't want to raise a kid just to have it turn out like me! I can't ruin this baby's life like that, San! I can't! I won't. I have to get out of here… I'm sorry."
But he came back. Just twenty minutes later and he was in the doorway of the hospital room, watching his newborn daughter suck on a pacifier and kick her little feet in the air. Without a word he'd sat at her side and taken the baby from her arms. He felt at home.
"Chris Keller is pretty good at this after all," he smirked. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the baby's nose and closed his eyes happily.
His baby blues met hers a moment later and she forced a smile onto her lips and nodded her head. She couldn't let him see that she didn't feel nearly as confident as he did about all of this. She hesitated a moment before sitting up and holding out her arms, "Hand her here."
The musician set the beautiful child in her mother's arms, noting her sad expression, "Hey, you okay, San?"
"Yeah," she said quickly, wiping at her tears, "just hormonal. Hey Chris… can you do me a favor?"
The boy nodded instantly, getting to his feet, "Chris Keller is at your service, what do you need?"
Sandra licked her lips and forced a soft smile upon them, "I forgot the car seat at home like a total spaz. Can you go get it so we can get out of here and take little Olivia home?"
"Sure, babe," he leaned in and brushed their lips together softly, "I'll be back soon. I love you."
"Yeah… you too," she mumbled, staring down at the child as the sound of his boots pounding the ground disappeared around the corner. She knew he would never forgive her for what she was about to do, but she knew what was best for her and her child.
An hour later and Chris came sauntering back into the hospital and straight up to the room. He started speaking the second he reached the doorway, tone happier than it had ever been, "Hey, babe, the car seat is downstairs. You ready to g- Sandra?"
He swallowed hard and looked around, the room completely empty. He checked every inch of the room as if she would come walking out of the built in bathroom or out from under the bed any second, "San? Sandra?"
She didn't.
The boy fell heavily onto the small couch in the corner of the room, those lively baby blues staring straight into space and losing more of their vibrancy every second.
Wah! Wahhh.
His head shot up, instantly recognizing those cries anywhere. He jumped to his feet and followed the sound down the hall to the maternity ward nursery. And there she was.
Little Olivia lay in the center basinet, her cries louder than all the other babies combined as she kicked and flailed her arms. She had lungs like her daddy and a temper like her mommy. A wide smile fell over his face and a few tears escaped before he could stop them, the panicked tightness of his chest loosening now that he knew his child was still here after all.
He rushed to the nurse's station, sniffling a little and trying to hide his obvious relief, "I-I'm here to take my newborn home. Olivia Christian Keller," he told the nurse, voice hesitant, "I think her mother left…"
A couple hours later and he was unloading the car from the hospital – not that there was much to it. He didn't have many friends and neither did she. He dropped the diaper bag to the floor and set down the seat, carefully extracting the baby and cuddling her to his chest. He closed his eyes and lightly rocked her, that terrified hopeless feeling rising over him but again getting squashed the second her little eyes opened and landed on him.
They'd be okay.
X.x.X
Brooke stared at Chris with wide, disbelieving eyes, "She just left? She didn't even leave a note?"
"No, she left a note," he said, shaking his head. "I just didn't find it for about a week. I was so new to the whole parenting thing and I was so overwhelmed that I ended up pretty much living out of that diaper bag until there weren't any clean clothes left inside. And the note, of course, was tucked down at the bottom beneath everything."
"Well… what did she say?"
"She said that she loved me and that she loved Olivia but that she changed her mind. She said we weren't what she wanted and that keeping Livie was a mistake," the boy closed his eyes tightly, clearly still stung by those words about the daughter he now would give the world for. "She wished me the best of luck and said that if I wanted to be a good father… I should give Livie up to people who could raise her right."
The fashionista stared at him in horror, her hand clutching his tightly as if that would somehow take back those harsh words, "Oh Chris…"
"It's okay," he told her instantly, his thumb drawing small circles on her knuckles. "I took her note and I said, 'you know what, I'm gonna prove you wrong. I'm going to be an amazing father.' And that's exactly what I did, Brooke. Look, Chris Keller is a lot of things – a lot of bad things, but I am a damn good father. But as you can tell," he started softly, shaking his head, "Chris Keller isn't so great at dating."
"I don't know about that," she admitted, her cheeks a light pink. She slid closer and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, snuggling into his chest. "You're doing better already."
They sat like that for a while, skilled fingers playing with the ends of her hair as the stillness of the night distracted them. Slowly Brooke looked up at him, frowning a little, "You never told me how she died."
"An accidental overdose. She left us to go party and live the highlife… and she died. And now Olivia will never get to know her mother. Liv's the sweetest thing in the world and all she wants is to know why she can't have a mommy like everyone else. She's so innocent and pure – she doesn't have a clue how cruel the world is; how harsh death is. I just want to keep her like this forever. Happy."
Brooke cupped his cheek and leaned in, pressing the softest of kisses to his lips, "She will be. Because she has you looking after her. And now she has me."
"Brooke, I don't expect you to-" she silenced him with another kiss.
"I really like you, Keller. You kind of make me insane, but all I ever wanted was to know there wasn't anyone else," her eyes searched his slowly. "Is there anyone else?"
"You're the only person I've been with since my daughter was born." His eyes burned through hers, "I didn't want to be with anyone else. It's been you for a very long time. Maybe since you came to my show at the bar… or the night of your benefit party. I've only ever loved one woman in my life and so this is all completely new to me right now."
"But new is good, right?"
Chris cupped her cheek and leaned in for her lips, just teasingly pressed them together, "New is perfect."
xX ~ C & B~ Xx
Loud giggles filled the apartment and echoed down the hall as Chris pushed the door open with his hip. He set the grocery bags down on the counter and raised his brow as he followed the noise to the master bedroom. Brooke and Olivia were in the middle of a tickle war, the tiny girl's cries hilarious as she tried to beg but couldn't even get the words out. The man leaned against the doorframe and smiled wide as he watched them play. Sometimes he still couldn't believe how perfectly this had all worked out.
He and Brooke had been officially dating for over 8 months now and she had moved in about 7 weeks ago. Victoria had been furious (and still was), but her friends had been supportive of the news – even Nathan who reminded them all every chance he got that Chris was an asshole. And Olivia had reacted best of all to the news. She'd loved Brooke from the very first moment, telling Chris again and again that she wanted him happy.
Best kid in the freakin' world, he thought.
He stepped back to let them focus on their playing, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small red velvet box. He smiled as he gazed at it for a moment, finally slipping it back into his pocket for use later that night.
Now that he had the girl, what was the point in waiting? It had been an amazing 8 months.
And it would be an even more amazing rest of their lives.
AN 2: This is a one-shot that I have been working on for months and I honestly thought that I would never finish it. It's a combination of many stories I've attempted to write in the past that failed because I just lost my drive just as I reached the high point, but I finally figured it out. The first part is taken from a story I previously had published on this site but was later taken down, so if it sounds familiar, that would be why – it was originally written for this and then altered for the other story, so it's not the exact beginning from that story. Thanks for reading! Please review and let me know what you thought!