Peyton knocks nervously on Nathan's apartment door one day after school the following week.
And she never knocks. She's nervous, she realizes, and she kind of likes it. It's like in the beginning - well, they're kind of still in the beginning - when every thought of seeing him gave her butterflies.
But this is different. She's got something in her hands that she's absolutely terrified to give him, but she just needs to.
He's shirtless when he answers the door. Great. That'll make this easier. He drapes his towel over his shoulders and smirks at her.
"Why'd you knock?" he asks curiously. "You never knock."
"I dunno," she says, shrugging her shoulder. "Why are you half-naked?"
"I'm always half-naked," he says, and they both laugh. It's kind of true. The boy hates wearing shirts. She's not complaining; not when he's got a body like that.
She leans up to peck his lips quickly, well, what she intends to be quickly. He grabs onto her hip and pulls her closer, and her hand clumsily falls to his sweaty chest.
There are the butterflies.
She's breathless when they part, and he grins in accomplishment, like that's exactly what he set out to do.
"Hi," he murmurs, brushing his lips against hers gently.
"Hi."
He chuckles, because he so loves to see her all flustered. She looks all sexy when her cheeks are pink and her eyes are sparkling like that, like they always do after a really good kiss.
"I um...Do you have a shirt?" she asks. She's so distracted, it's not even funny. He just smirks at her. "I'm serious. Put something on."
"I was working out," he says, gesturing to the boxing dummy in the corner of the room. She's always thought that thing was creepy.
She raises her eyebrow, and he rolls his eyes and disappears down the hall into his bedroom, emerging moments later with a black tee shirt covering his torso. He grabs a bottle of Gatorade from the fridge and stands across from where she's sitting at the counter.
"I brought you something," she says.
"Really?" he asks in surprise.
"Yeah. And if you don't like it, you can...I dunno...burn it or something," she says, laughing nervously. "But...you have an empty frame in your bedroom, and I had some extra time, so...I did this."
She reaches for the tube where she'd set it, leaning against the stool she's perched on, and she pulls out a painting, unrolling it slowly.
His eyes go wide, and he smiles, looking between her and the painting.
It's him in his uniform, sitting on the bench in a darkened gym, with his elbows on his knees and a towel resting over his thigh. It's the way he always sits when he's on the bench. The detail is shocking. He can make out the parquet of the gym floor, and the beads of sweat on his forehead.
He had no idea she was that good.
"You did this?" he asks needlessly. She nods her head, and he shakes his. "It's awesome."
"You like it?" she asks quietly.
"Babe, I love it," he says. He walks around the counter, and she sets the painting on the surface. He cups her cheeks with his hands and kisses her gently. "Thank you."
"I'm just glad you don't hate it," she laughs.
"How could I? You did it," he says, and she rolls her eyes. "And I mean, the subject is pretty awesome."
"Humble," she laughs. "I can mount it for you." He raises one eyebrow and smirks at her as he crosses his arms over his chest. "The painting, perv."
"I can't believe you did this," he says, looking to the portrait again. "I mean that in like, a - I can't believe you'd do that for me - way."
"Not a - you thought I just drew in colouring books with crayons - way?" she teases.
"Come on," he says taking her hand. "You can mount it."
"The painting?" she asks seductively. He groans and throws his head back, then glares at her. She just shrugs her shoulder.
And she wonders why they're still waiting. It still feels right to wait - most of the time, anyway - she's just not sure how long it'll be that way. Not long, she knows. She knows that for a fact.
Nathan lays on his bed, propped up on one elbow as she reaches for the frame and starts framing the painting. She explains that she saw the frame that first weekend she stayed over, and how weird it was that he had just an empty frame sitting in his bedroom. He tells her that it was there when he moved in, and he realizes for the first time that even that's a little weird.
There's a knock at the door just as she's held up the finished product, and she rests the painting against the wall before they walk down the hall to answer the door.
Peyton grabs a bottle of water as Nathan gets the door, and they're both just assuming it's one of the guys, or one of the girls looking for Peyton.
But it's not.
"Well, well. If it isn't my dear brother," Nathan says sarcastically.
Peyton tenses immediately and looks towards Nathan. She almost smiles when she sees how strong he's standing, and how he's seemingly unaffected by this surprise visit.
"Can I come in?" Lucas requests.
"If I ask you not to, you'll probably do it anyway, won't you?" Nathan says, walking back into the apartment. Peyton walks towards her boyfriend so there's only a few feet of space separating them. "I mean, based on past experience."
Nathan tries to smile at Peyton as Lucas shuts the door behind him, but he's too mad and surprised to really accomplish the task. She shoots him a nervous look, and he winks at her, and that somehow puts her at ease. She lets herself take a moment to think how sweet it is that he's reassuring her, even when he's probably just barely keeping his emotions in order.
"Oh," Lucas mutters when he sees the third party in the room.
"This is Peyton," Nathan says before turning to his girlfriend. "Peyton, this is my lying jerk of a brother."
"Well, at least you're referring to me as your brother," Lucas says in an attempt to break the tension.
"That just makes it easier for people to take my side when I tell them what you did," Nathan points out.
"Nathan, I'm gonna go," Peyton says quietly, placing her hand on his bicep.
"No," he insists gently. "You don't have to. He will."
"It's OK..." She shakes her head as she speaks, but he cuts her off.
"Stay," he says quietly, locking eyes with her. "Please."
She knows she's not going anywhere. His tone is pleading, like he might just need her to stay and talk to him after whatever happens, happens. She won't leave him if his request means what she thinks it did. She nods her head and he finally manages to smile at her.
"Lucas, what the hell are you doing here?" Nathan asks.
"Look, Haley needs you, man," Lucas says pleadingly.
Nathan doesn't like the way Lucas is leering at Peyton when he thinks the brunette isn't looking. Lucas may not know that Peyton is Nathan's girlfriend, but she's a girl alone with him at his apartment, and that alone should tell Lucas to back off. Nathan knows his brother is still pining over Brooke, based on the texts and updates she's sent him, and he's probably only looking at Peyton to try to figure out who she is in all this. He doesn't need another reason to be mad at Lucas, but he thinks this is a pretty good one. He's said it before - people should know better than to mess with his girl.
"Haley should have thought of that before she screwed Chris Keller," Nathan says, crossing his arms over his chest.
Peyton moves to stand behind Nathan a little bit. She's seen him angry before, but not this angry, and she's starting to understand even more why he left Tree Hill. If this is indicative of the relationship he has with his brother, she can see why he doesn't want to deal with it.
"They aren't even together!" Lucas shouts. "She's miserable without you, Nate."
"Yeah? Well she brought that on herself," Nathan says calmly. "And I'm really not miserable without her."
Peyton places her hand on his back between his shoulder blades, and he takes a relaxing breath. She doesn't smile, but she wants to. She likes that she can soothe him.
"Will you just call her?" Lucas pleads.
"No," Nathan says bitterly, shaking his head. "Tell her to call Chris if she needs a shoulder to cry on."
"Honestly, you're being a dick right now," Lucas says.
And it's all Peyton can do not to stick up for her boyfriend. She doesn't know Lucas, but she's heard stories. While Nathan may have been the 'bad' brother when he was younger, he certainly seems to be the good one now.
"You know what, Luke? You wanna stick up for Saint Haley? Maybe you should get your facts straight," Nathan points out.
"What does that mean?"
"Ask her about Jackson," he says.
"What...?" Lucas says, shaking his head.
"Talk to Haley," Nathan says, cutting him off. "And just so you know, she can't make eye contact if she's lying."
Nathan knows damn well that no one else knows about her 'affair'. He didn't tell anyone, and she was thankful for that, but it's time for the truth to come out. Everyone thinks he's the bad guy who walked away, and that Haley only shared a confused kiss with Chris. No one knows it was so much more than that.
Nathan's sick of being the jerk in the situation to protect a girl who didn't care enough about his heart to be faithful to him.
"What does that mean!?" Lucas shouts.
"It means that I walked in on her and Chris!" Nathan roars, and Lucas' face changes to one of complete shock. "When I drove to freaking Mississippi to fight for our marriage, she was in bed with Chris."
"Nathan..."
"So now you know why it was so easy to sign the papers and leave her behind," Nathan says. Peyton rubs a circle on his back, and he somehow knows that's a silent show of gratitude that he did leave.
"Look, will you just call her? Just...even to tell her how you're doing?" Lucas requests quietly, still unable to really grasp that his best friend cheated on her husband.
"You can tell her," Nathan says with a shrug of his shoulders. "I love it here. I'm the leading scorer on my team, and I'm with someone new. At least I had the decency to wait until the annulment went through," he adds as an afterthought.
Lucas lets out a sigh and looks to Peyton once more as she slips her hand into Nathan's.
"Will you at least tell her yourself that you're moving on?"
"Have moved on," Nathan corrects. "And no. Cutting ties with Haley was probably the smartest thing I've ever done."
Lucas shakes his head again and starts walking towards the door. He turns around just after he places his hand on the doorknob, and he gives his brother one last look.
"Are you ever gonna let me off the mat for last year?" Lucas asks.
"I don't know, Luke," Nathan says seriously.
"We have to play each other in the tournament in a few weeks, right? Maybe I'll see you then," Lucas says.
Nathan knows he means that maybe they'll hang out when neither of them are playing, or that they can have a conversation or a meal.
"You will. I'll be the one kicking your ass on the court and pushing for State," Nathan says. He feels Peyton squeeze his hand, and he resists the urge to smile.
Lucas walks out without another word, and as soon as the door is closed, Nathan lets out a long breath. He turns to Peyton and takes both her hands in his, and she's smiling at him. She's proud of him. He's so much stronger than a boy of 17 should be.
And he's totally sexy when he's putting people in their place.
"I'm sorry," he says, shaking his head. "I shouldn't have made you stay for that."
"It's OK," she insists. "Someone had to be here to call 911 if you kicked his ass."
"Been there, done that," he mumbles. "It's no fun to beat someone when you know they don't even have a chance against you."
She laughs and shakes her head, and he moves one hand to her hip.
"You're bigger than him," she points out. He smiles down at her. "And so much stronger." She leans up to kiss the hinge of his jaw. "And way sexier."
"Yeah?" he asks, pulling her a little closer.
"I love it when you lose your temper," she says, and he chuckles a little and brushes a lock of hair from her face. No girl has ever said that to him before. That's probably why he likes this one so much.
"If you say I'm a better ball player than him, I'm not letting you walk out that door tonight," he says, his voice low as his lips graze the shell of her ear. He feels her hand run through the hair at the back of his neck.
She knows what she's getting herself into. She knows that if she says the words, they're sleeping together.
And that's exactly why she says them.
"You're the best ball player I've ever seen," she tells him, looking up at him through her eyelashes. It's not a lie, and she's sure he knows that.
He doesn't question it, anyway. He just grips her a little tighter, and leans down to kiss her, immediately groaning when she presses herself against him. She's standing on her toes, as close to him as she can get, with her arms wrapped desperately around his neck.
He holds her tightly, and she laughs a little when he lifts her off the ground and starts walking towards his bedroom. He closes the door behind them, and she turns her back to him, trying to regain just a little bit of her composure. She runs her hand through her hair, and she feels Nathan's hands on her hip, and his chest pressed against her back.
And he's never wanted - needed - a girl as much as he needs Peyton right now. They've waited, and it's been great, and they're stronger than they would have been otherwise.
But it's time to get on with things.
He's absolutely crazy about her, and as he somehow - she's impressed - unbuttons her sweater from behind while he kisses her neck, he realizes that no girl has ever felt like this.
She turns in his arms, and she's wearing only her jeans and a little white tank top. She's always wearing those little white tank tops, and he loves them. They're sexy. To the point where if he can see the outline of one of them beneath her white Oxford shirt at school, his heart (and mind) races a bit. He's had to re-read notes far too often after getting lost in thought about her in those little tank tops.
But just because he loves it, that doesn't mean he doesn't want it off her immediately. He breaks their kiss and pulls the fabric up over her head, and they both smile before he kisses her again.
It's stupid and trivial, but all she can think, as he lays her down and unzips her jeans, is that it's a school night. She's obviously not leaving, which means she's sleeping there, which means that she'll have to wake up early to go home and change. Of course, it doesn't really matter, but until he's kissing up the inside of her thigh, it's the only rational thought she has.
And then there are no more rational thoughts.
He pulls his tee shirt over his head, and she pushes down his shorts, and then he lays atop her, both of them breathless. He doesn't kiss her like they're both maybe expecting, he just hovers above her and brushes the hair from her face.
"You're so beautiful," he says, looking down at her.
"Nathan..."
"Shut up and let me say it," he says, leaning down to kiss her as she laughs. "I know you like that I don't say things like that, but...God, it's true." She's blushing, and he knows it's not just that she's red-faced because of what they've been doing. "And you have absolutely no clue, do you?"
"Stop it," she pleads.
"Not until you believe it," he says. He kisses her again, and her hands run up his back.
He pulls away and looks at her with a raised brow, and she's positive that he won't give her what she wants - needs, even - until she tells him she believes him. She shifts her hips beneath him, and he takes a sharp breath, but just shakes his head at her.
"Nathan, please," she whispers.
He can't say he hates the way she's almost begging him.
It's a flurry after that. All clothing shed, and roaming hands, and kisses that mean a lot more than any they've shared before. He treats her delicately, but not too much so. She's a little more forward and he'd expected, though maybe he should have expected it. And it's not like he's complaining.
And all he can think is that it's never been like this. Not even just physically, though certainly that, too. He just feels like she understands every single thing about him without him having to explain a thing.
He lays there, with her sleeping in his arms - he finds it hilarious that she fell asleep right afterward, and he's the one laying awake and wanting to cuddle - and he replays their evening. How did they get here? He kind of doesn't care. He just cares that she's amazing, and she was amazing, and that no one has ever made him feel the way he just felt.
"Peyton," he murmurs softly, trailing his hand up and down her bare side.
"Hmm."
"You should wake up, babe," he tells her, chuckling softly when she buries her face in his chest.
"Why?" Her hold on him tightens, and she presses against him a bit, and he intertwines their fingers to keep his own hand from getting them in trouble.
"Because it's only 9:30, and you'll be awake at like, 3:00 if you fall asleep right now," he says.
"You looking out for me?" she asks cutely, letting her southern drawl come out in her speech.
They both know he loves it when she does that.
"Of course," he whispers, kissing her forehead as she looks up at him. "That, and I skipped dinner, and I'm starving."
"Ulterior motives," she grumbles, rolling away from him.
She's covered only by a thin navy blue sheet, and her bare shoulders are in plain view. He moves so he's close to her again, resting his hand on her hip and kissing her bare skin. He smirks when she lets out a little sound, she rests her hand atop his.
"OK. Getting up," she says, making him laugh.
"Sure. Agree to get out of bed now," he mumbles, rolling away from her.
She turns so she's laying on her back, and she watches him stand from the bed.
"Hmm," she hums in contentment.
"What?" he asks, reaching for a pair of shorts. He's not even looking at her, but he can tell she's looking at him.
"You have the best ass," she tells him. He lets out a soft laugh and shakes his head. "I'm serious. It's perfect."
"Yours isn't so bad, either," he says, pinning her to the bed once he's got his shorts on again.
"OK, I have to ask," she says as he brushes her side, pushing the sheet down slightly.
"What?"
"Was that really as amazing as I think it was?" she inquires.
He smiles at her, rests a little more weight on her, and he leans down to kiss her.
"Oh, hell yeah," he says in a low voice. "Best."
"And just how many girls have you said that to?" she asks.
"Just you."
"Really?" She's surprised, and he doesn't know why he isn't insulted by that.
"How many girls do you think I'd say it to?" he asks with a chuckle.
"Honestly? All of them," she says, scrunching her face as she waits for his reaction.
"You make me sound like a bit of a...I'm not that guy," he tells her needlessly. She wraps her arms around his neck and brings him closer so she can kiss him again. "And there haven't been that many."
"I'm sorry," she whispers.
"It's OK. You know who I am," he tells her. He feels like that's the most honest thing he's ever said. "Now, why don't you follow my sweet ass into the kitchen, and we'll have some food?"
She pecks his lips quickly and he stands again, walking from the room. She gets up and reaches for the white Oxford he'd worn that day, pulling it over her shoulders and fastening the buttons. Well, most of the buttons.
She glanced at the clock, though Nathan had only minutes earlier told her the time, and she pulled her curls up into a haphazard bun.
She has a feeling in the pit of her stomach. It isn't a bad feeling, by any means. It's more a feeling of almost...fullness. Almost contentment. Definitely happiness.
She feels like she could fall for this boy.
She feels like maybe she already is.
"You coming, or what?" Nathan calls to her playfully.
"God, you're demanding," she says as she steps into the kitchen. He looks at what she is - or isn't - wearing, and smiles. "Omelet? Nice."
"I'm no chef, but I can feed my girl," he says, draping his arm around her shoulder and kissing her temple. "And now, see, the problem about you wearing this shirt is that it'll never look the same."
"Shut up," she scoffs, waving her hand in the air.
She goes to the fridge, knowing there's some fruit in there that had caught her eye earlier, and she doesn't hear him come up behind her. He lifts the bottom of the shirt with his hand, and she spins around quickly, her jaw dropped.
"Yup. Amazing ass," he says, smirking wolfishly.
"You're such a guy!" she cries, shoving his chest. He reaches for her wrist and pulls her against him to kiss her. "Don't burn my omelet."
He rolls his eyes and goes back to the task at hand, and she unabashedly checks him out as he stands there, shirtless and tending to their food.
She hoists herself up onto the counter next to the stove, her knee brushing his hip as they stand as close as they can get. She pops a grape into her mouth, and he looks to the bowl in her hands. She reaches over and he opens his mouth, and he winks at her as she feeds him a grape.
She's never really done this before, she realizes. She and Julian didn't really have sleepovers. Of course, they both lived with their parents, so that was an inhibitor, but they'd never even really shared a lazy morning (or evening, in this case) or anything akin to what she does with Nathan. She doesn't think Julian ever cooked for her, and he would have looked at her like she was nuts if she tried to toss a grape into his mouth.
Nathan is different, and he keeps doing things to remind her of that. She likes it.
He reaches for two plates and serves up their food, and he simply passes her a plate and a fork, and he stands next to her as they dig in.
"Oh my God," she says with her mouth full. "So good!"
"Yeah?"
"Hmm," she mumbles as she swallows. "Amazing."
"My uncle...he's a bit of a cook," he says.
"The same uncle that made you crash a race car?" she asks with a raised brow.
"He didn't make me do it."
"He didn't stop you, either," she says, and he lets out a laugh, nodding in agreement. "I want to meet him."
"He'll be scared of you," he says, and she scowls and gently pokes his bicep with her fork, making him laugh. "And you just want to meet him because he's Cooper Lee."
"No," she insists quickly. "I want to meet him because he's your family."
"Says the girl who's never even had me over to her house," Nathan says. He says it like a challenge, and they both know she won't back down.
It's not that she doesn't want to take him there, it's just that he's got his own place and they have more privacy. But he's right. It's about time he see where she lives. It's just her house and it's not a big deal, and she's not hiding anything from him. She certainly doesn't want him to think she is.
"This weekend," she tells him. "Saturday. Come over."
He smiles at her, and leans over to kiss her. "OK."
"My dad's away, but..."
"Actually," he interrupts, "I'm good with that."
"Nathan, he knows I'm dating you," she says with a laugh.
"Does he know you're in my kitchen right now, wearing only my shirt and eating eggs before we go back to my bedroom?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, considering I didn't know we were going back to the bedroom...," she teases. "Seriously. My dad's cool. And I'm sure he's already done a background check, and if he saw anything he didn't like, he'd probably tell me to stop seeing you." She notes the slightly scared look on his face. "Which he hasn't."
"I'm not really sure if you're joking," he says.
"I kind of am," she says. "He probably has done a check. But...what dad wouldn't do that if they had the resources?"
"You're freaking me out," he states. She rolls her eyes and sets her plate down before taking his from his hands.
"Nathan," she starts, tugging him closer. He stands between her knees, and she drapes her arms over his shoulders. "It's fine. He's fine. He's OK with us. His exact words were 'I'm happy you're dating a real man, and not some artsy film kid again'."
"He said I'm a real man?" he asks with a smirk.
"Mhmm. But you know," she says seductively, trailing her index finger down his chest, "I might need some convincing."
"Really?" he asks dryly.
She shrugs one shoulder and locks eyes with him. "Couldn't hurt."
He sweeps her off the counter, forcing her to lock her legs around his waist, and kisses her the entire way back to his bedroom.
Yeah. She's definitely falling.