The warehouse was still. Peyton was already pulling off her shirt when she stepped onto the private elevator leading up to her loft.
"There's something between us," She scoffed. "Heh."
She pulled open the elevator gate and walked into her studio, grabbing something from her purse, before tossing that and her shirt on the floor. God, she needed to get the feel of Lucas Scott off of her. She could still feel him pressed up against her, his mouth on hers...
Peyton shook her head. "No. Do NOT even think it."
She walked over to her sink and turned on the faucet. She cupped the cold water into the palms of her hands and splashed it on her face.
She moaned in frustration.
Stop thinking...stop thinking...
She kicked off her shoes and walked towards her bed. She paused and knelt down, reaching for a locked box under her bed.
She sighed just then, and sat on the floor with the box in her lap. She took the small key that she had taken from her purse and slowly turned the lock, closing her eyes as it clicked open.
She let her eyes gradually focus on the contents.
Pictures. Pictures of her and Lucas. Dried flowers. He sent her a dozen irises on her birthday each year. And each year, like clock work, she threw the bouquet in the trash—but not before snipping one flower off and keeping it. Letters. She burned most of them. But there were a few she just couldn't part with. She never forgot the day she got that first letter after Lucas left. Asking her to wait for him—to wait for him to figure everything out. She shook her head. The audacity. Then, there was the plant ticket...
I want you with me, Peyton. So here it is. I'm asking you to come be with me...
She stared at it for a long while. He extended his hand, didn't he? Maybe she was the one who slapped him away. Christ, it was so long ago. Why did it matter?
She didn't hear him come in. Never mind the fact that the elevator could have woken up the dead. She was sitting on the floor, in nothing but her bra and skirt, staring at a piece of paper. As he walked closer, a knot formed inside him. He knew what it was.
"Why didn't you come," He asked softly.
Peyton jumped. "God damnit, Lucas! You scared the shit out of me!" She put her hand over her heart.
"Sorry."
"Are you stalking me now?"
"I just wanted to talk."
"Talk, then."
"Uh..." He drifted off, letting his eyes sweep from the top of her head to her feet and back again.
"Well?!" She was exasperated.
Should he remind her that she was lacking clothes...? He smiled to himself.
"You kissed me too, y'know."
"I got caught up in the moment. It won't happen again." She shrugged nonchalantly.
"Uh-huh."
Peyton wrinkled her brow, outraged. "Is that what you came to do, Lucas? Try and trap me into some sordid confession? How scandalous," She said sarcastically.
"You know, you can hide all you want behind your pride and resentment." He pointed to the plane ticket on the floor. "I wanted you with me, Peyton. I asked you to be with me. That I made a mistake. But you never answered one of my letters. Not one. So don't stand there and act like I didn't try and make amends for what I did."
"No, all you tried to do was...well, it was like putting a Band-Aid on a broken bone."
Lucas threw up his hands.
"I'm trying to fucking fix it!"
"...how many years later?"
"Does it matter? You still love me."
Peyton opened her mouth to protest...only, the words couldn't come...
"Don't bother denying it," Lucas said, "It was all over your face when you saw me in the club, and it's all over your face now."
He walked towards Peyton, not giving her a chance to think. And he kissed her. No, there was no thinking here. It was instinct. His hands fisted in her curls, her hands wrapped around his waist. She gave a slight whimper of protest, but didn't dare tear her lips from his. Her hands roamed under his shirt, and felt his warm skin and his back muscles under her fingers. They fell to the floor, in a fit of passion.
Was this really happening? Peyton was here...he was here...Oh, God...it was finally happening.
Peyton sat up; straddling him as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt...one at a time. She moved her hips slightly...
Lucas hissed through his teeth. "Peyton, Jesus!"
Peyton smiled. "You sure you want this, Mr. Scott?"
Lucas's fingers slid across her stomach, to her back. He snapped off her bra.
"How could I not be?"
He rolled over, pinning Peyton underneath him.
They dissolved in each other. His mouth, worshipping every inch of her. His tongue driving her insane. Her hands feeling every inch of him, needing him.
And when Lucas slowly buried himself inside her, their eyes connected—their hearts one simultaneous beat.
They felt complete...