12 - Wicked Game
The cool night air struck Peyton full in the face, its gentle caress doing wonders to calm her worried mind. A deep, steadying breath later had her down the front steps and back on the street, where she briefly hesitated on which direction to head in before deciding on her left. There were a few people around her own age on their way towards TRIC's main entry, though none of them were who Peyton was searching for. A quick turn at the end of the building brought her to where the street entrance of Red Bedroom Records was located, only some sixty to seventy feet ahead of her. It was about halfway towards there that Peyton noticed somebody was seated on its front steps, and another ten feet before she recognized the identity of that somebody.
"You know, if you keep showing up on my doorstep like this," the blonde quipped upon reaching the seated figure. "People are gonna start to talk."
"Took you long enough to get here," griped Lindsey without a hint of rancour.
"Oh, you were waiting for me?" Peyton raised an eyebrow, curious.
"No, I just sit in front of random buildings for the fun of it," her crush scoffed. "Of course, I was waiting for you."
"Someone's feisty," she noted aloud.
"Don't be fooled," Lindsey laughed, a tad bitter. "It's all bluster. I'm actually on the verge of losing my fucking mind right now, thank you very much."
"So, on a scale of one-to-ten, how bad was your fight with Lucas?" Peyton asked, her concern on full display.
"I don't know," she sighed, rising to brush dust off the seat of her dress. "Probably about an eight? Nine? It was pretty intense, that's for sure." Lindsey gestured to the door. "You going to let us in, or what? Because I am not in the mood to head back into TRIC to see him or Haley right now."
"Still need time to cool off, huh? I get that," the blonde nodded in understanding. "Come on, I have a bottle of single malt scotch hidden in my desk drawer. You can bitch at me about what happened. Or talk about the Hurricanes. Or the price of tea in China. Whatever you need right now."
"That sounds fantastic, actually," her crush smiled, which caused Peyton's heart to skip a beat without warning. "You're the best, you know that?"
"And here I am not even trying. No wonder so many people hate me," she joked while fishing her keys out to open the door.
"I find it hard that anybody could hate you," Lindsey told her. "I know that I certainly don't."
"That's good to know because I kind of like you, too," Peyton blurted out without thinking, which had her take an obvious verbal back step. "You know, we're friends, right?"
"Yeah, of course," her 'friend' agreed with a slight tilt of her head. "At least, I hope so."
"Cool, cool," she laughed, feeling all sorts of awkward now. "Come on, let's head inside."
"Lead the way," Lindsey gestured.
Once they were inside, Peyton closed the main door and led the way into the label's lobby.
"Where's your washroom again?" Lindsey asked, her voice sounding somewhat raspy. It was most likely from her shouting match with Lucas, the producer deduced.
"It's the second door down the hall," Peyton reminded her. "Between the booth entrance and my office."
"Go get that scotch from its hiding place, Peyton," the book editor told her, already beginning to behave a bit more cheerful. "I won't be long. Promise."
"Alright," Peyton agreed. Upon entering her office, she walked behind her desk to fish out the bottle of scotch from the bottom drawer along with two lowball glasses. After pouring their drinks, Peyton decided that maybe some music was in order. Despite her label and TRIC being in the same building, the music from the club was barely above that of a whisper here in her office due to all the soundproofing that Peyton had ordered installed. She had just reached her record collection when Lindsey could be heard entering the room. "Hey, I was thinking we could listen to something while we were lounging around here. What are you in the mood for?"
"Whatever you choose is fine," Lindsey answered, her heels clicking audibly against the hardwood floor. "Maybe something bluesy?"
"Something bluesy, huh?" Peyton began to hurriedly sift through the nearest shelf of records for an appropriate choice, only to freeze dead in her tracks at the sudden and unmistakable warmth that was another person's embrace. "Uh, Lindsey?"
"Yeah?"
"What are you doing?"
"I don't know," Lindsey whimpered into her ear. "But could you just go with it, Peyton?"
"Lindsey, I-"
"Please?"
Unable to outright refuse the desperate request, Peyton disengaged herself from the other woman's embrace enough so that they were now face-to-face with one another. It was then that Peyton noticed how she was now wedged between Lindsey and her record shelf, the other woman's hands on her hips effectively trapping the blonde in place. When Peyton glanced up to meet Lindsey's gaze, she was taken aback by the sheer desire that was on display in those steely grey eyes.
"You are so damn beautiful," Lindsey breathed out, barely above a whisper.
"Linds-" she began, only to have her words cut off by soft lips being pressed against her own. Instinctively Peyton reached up to gingerly cup Lindsey's face, her eyes fluttering closed as she lost herself in the moment. When Lindsey finally broke the kiss to meet her gaze, Peyton found herself wide eyed and breathless.
"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that," her crush confessed.
"What?" the blonde squeaked in surprise.
"Now you know why I've been so skittish around you lately," Lindsey informed her, all while gently caressing the blonde's forearm up and down. It was damned distracting!
"So you're not homophobic then?" Peyton blurted out, feeling rather stupid as soon as the words left her mouth. "Can we forget I just said that?"
"Gladly," the beautiful woman standing before her agreed. Time seemed to cease in its passing while Peyton surrendered herself to the moment.
For that instant everything felt perfect. No thoughts of betrayal or hopelessly crushing on her ex-boyfriend's girlfriend lingered in Peyton's thoughts. All that mattered right then and there was that the woman who Peyton had been fantasizing about for the last couple of months felt the same way as she did. It was bliss.
Of course, that bliss had to meet an abrupt end when she felt Lindsey go stiff in her embrace.
"Did you hear something just now?" Lindsey rasped before Peyton could ask what was wrong.
"No, can't say that I did," she answered honestly, having strained her ears for about twenty seconds or so.
"I must have imagined it then," her crush scoffed, dismissive of whatever caused the book editor to pause. "Sorry if I sounded paranoid there. I just really like you and I'm all wound up here."
"I think I have a solution for that," Peyton grinned, her hands sliding up under the other woman shirt where the blonde caressed soft bare skin.
"As much as I want to, we should probably stop, Peyton," Lindsey stepped back, albeit in a rather reluctant fashion. "I mean, I'm still technically with Lucas, so..."
"Oh, right," she agreed, her ardor thoroughly deflated at the thought of her ex-boyfriend's face. "I kind of forgot about that."
"You might've forgotten but I didn't," her paramour sighed. "How terrible does that make me?"
"Not terrible," Peyton shook her head. "Just human."
"Small consolation," Lindsey said with a gentle smile then reached up to tuck a tendril of loose blonde hair behind Peyton's ear. "That said though, I wouldn't give this moment up for the world. You have me whipped, Peyton Sawyer."
"Just say the word, Lindsey," she promised while clasping her hand, laying a quick kiss to the back of it. "And I'm yours."
"I need to do something first then we can see where this goes," Lindsey took a step toward the blonde before leaning in so that their foreheads were now touching. "Until then...one last kiss?"
"How can I say no to that?" Peyton relented, immediately closing the small gap between them.
It wasn't until Lindsey had left Peyton alone in her office that the blonde began to worry on the implications of what had just happened and, more importantly, what the coming consequences would be. No matter how she and Lindsey played this out, it was going to be a complete and utter mess.
"Dammit," Peyton muttered under her breath, not at all looking forward to dealing with a heartbroken Lucas Scott again.
It must have been only eleven o'clock when Brooke had gotten home with Rachel by her side, the pair having bowed out of the party some scant twenty minutes ago. Mouth had been disappointed to see them leave early but his mood quickly changed when Millie whispered something into his ear. Brooke led an annoyed Rachel away before the redhead could say something derogatory about the new couple, especially on their friend's birthday.
"I know that little mouse is your assistant," the redhead complained to her left, the two women walking up towards the front door from the parked SUV. "But I swear if she shoots that little taunting smirk my way again, I am going to slap the taste out of her mouth."
"Oh, you're just saying that because she has something you want," Brooke scoffed. "Or rather, someone you want."
"Aren't you the one who told me that ship has already sailed?" Rachel reminded.
"Yes, but that doesn't mean you still can't want it," she lobbed back. "Or him, as the case may be."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," the former model waved her comment off. "Where do you suppose Emo Barbie ended up?"
"Is that actual concern about Peyton I hear in your voice?" Brooke raised an eyebrow.
"Curiosity, nothing more," denied Rachel, dismissive. "Hey, did we leave the lights on when we left?"
"If Victoria made herself another set of house keys, I'm going to lose my freaking mind," she growled.
"Would it be cool if I made some popcorn before you did that? No? Okay then," her friend jokingly rambled as they entered the house. "Hello? Anybody home?"
"In the kitchen," Peyton called out from around the corner.
"Well, now we know where P Sawyer ended up," Brooke said to the redhead.
"And with that mystery solved, I'm off to bed," yawned Rachel, heading up the stairs to the guest room she'd claimed as her own. "Good night, you two."
"Good night," she replied over her shoulder while joining Peyton in the kitchen, who had her back to Brooke because she was presently looking out the window. The blonde's tense posture told her best friend that something was wrong. "What happened to you tonight? Did you end up finding Lindsey?"
"Yeah, I found her," scoffed Peyton. "As to what happened? That's a bit complicated."
"Isn't that how things always get around here?" Brooke joked.
"Can't argue with that," her best friend agreed, clearly troubled by something.
"Seriously, Peyton, what happened to you tonight?" she pressed.
"How long did it take you to forgive me?" Peyton asked back, still gazing out the window.
"You're gonna have to be more specific than that, P," Brooke told her, even if she did have a suspicion on what the blonde meant. It wasn't something they talked about much, even to this day. Although what had happened between Peyton, Lucas and herself was now water under the bridge, the fact remained that the whole triangle had left a dark stain on their friendship. One that she was not fond of looking back upon. Because unlike her best friend, Brooke was not an emotional masochist. Or at least, she tried not to be.
"You know what I'm talking about, Brooke," she turned to Brooke, thus confirming her best friend's suspicion.
"I can't give you an exact timeline, Peyton," answered Brooke, completely honest. "Six months? Nine months? A year? I don't know for sure. It's not something I like thinking about, really. It hurts to think about it, how badly we treated each other. And all over a silly boy."
"That silly boy was the first person we both fell in love with," she pointed out.
"Well, that was before you figured out you liked girls more and I figured out exactly what I want from life," she countered.
"And what exactly do you want from life, Brooke?" Peyton turned around to face her.
"What does everybody want from life? To be happy on their own terms," Brooke stated.
"And those terms would be?" Her best friend frowned in response.
"That's a conversation for another time," she promised. "Right now though, you're going to tell me what has you so flustered."
"Something happened," her sullen friend looked away. "I didn't mean for it to happen, never in a million years thought it could, to be honest. And I sure as hell didn't initiate it but now that it has happened, I want to see where it takes me. Go with the flow, you know?"
"You're not one who usually goes with the flow though," Brooke pointed out.
"I know," Peyton said over her shoulder.
"This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain book editor, would it?" Brooke guessed, somehow already knowing the answer. The blonde's stunned expression when she turned to face Brooke once again was simply confirmation. "I don't know why you're looking at me like that. It's been pretty obvious for awhile now the two of you were crushing on each other big time. Well, at least to me, anyway."
"Well, it wasn't obvious to me," Peyton rolled her eyes in complaint, those lithe arms now crossed over her abdomen.
"Of course, it wasn't," she chuckled softly in amusement. "Like they say in Spain; 'El amor es como el fuego. Suelen ver el humo los que están fuera antes que las llamas los que están dentro.'"
Her best friend frowned at her, not understanding. "Which means?"
"Basically it means, 'Love is like fire,'" Brooke translated with patience. "'People on the outside see the smoke before the people inside see the flames.' Or something to that effect."
"When did you learn Spanish?" Peyton raised an eyebrow, curious.
"I'm not fluent but I can get by in a pinch," she waved it off. "But that doesn't really matter right now. What does matter now is how you're going to get some clarity on the situation between you and Lindsey because whatever happened earlier tonight has you all wonky! And knowing you like I do, Peyt, you won't be able to sleep at all tonight if things are left as they are."
"So what do you think I should do then?" the blonde asked at a near whine.
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Sawyer," Rachel shouted from upstairs, clearly annoyed by how dense their friend was acting. "Go talk to the girl! Some of us are trying to sleep here!"
"I am really starting to hate you," Peyton shouted back, her eyes narrowed in the direction of the stairs.
"She does kind of have a point though, P," Brooke told her.
"Ungh, fine," the record producer relented, her hand held out to Brooke. "Can I borrow your SUV? I'm low on gas."
"Good luck," the fashionista smiled at her best friend while handing over the keys.
"It'll be almost midnight by the time I get there, so I'm probably wasting my time anyway," Peyton complained on her way out the door.
"So she's really going to do it," Rachel said from the top of the stairs.
"Yup," nodded the brunette.
"Good for her," the former model stated with a approval, only to quickly add. "Wait a second, isn't Lindsey the name of Lucas' girlfriend? They wouldn't happen to be the same person, would they?"
"Yup," she nodded again, though this time in a more solemn manner.
"Well, shit," Rachel swore, now more aware of what was going on. "That's going to be awkward."
"Yup," Brooke agreed, knowing that no matter how things went down between Peyton, Lindsey and Lucas, one of them was going to end up hurt. And there wasn't anything she could do to stop it.
"This is a bad idea," Peyton muttered under her breath while still trying to gather the courage needed to knock on the front door of her ex-boyfriend's home. "I should just go home instead. She's probably not even here if she's already broken up with him, so this is a waste of time. And even if she is still here, they're probably both asleep, so I should just go ho-"
"How long were you planning on standing there talking to yourself?" Lindsey cut in, the front door now wide open.
"Probably all night if you hadn't decided to end my torture," she answered in earnest.
"You are such a dork sometimes," the other woman commented with a fond smile.
"Yeah, well, I'm your dork," Peyton began to say, only to falter at how that beautiful face fell. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing, I just-"
"Honey, who's at the door?" Lucas called out from down the hall.
"What's going on?" Peyton demanded softly of Lindsey, who was refusing to look her in the eye. "Linds?"
"Oh, hey, Peyton," the former love of her life greeted upon joining them. "What brings you here so late? You all partied out?"
"What's going on?" Peyton repeated. She felt her stomach tighten, her gaze plastered on Lindsey's left hand. Or rather, what was on the ring finger of said left hand. "Is that what I think it is?"
"I'm sorry, Peyton," Lindsey apologized with her left hand now reluctantly held up to show off the engagement ring that adorned her finger. "You came too late."
"Lindsey, don't be-" Lucas started to rebuke his girlfriend. No, his fiancé. She was his fiancé now.
"It's fine, Luke," Peyton halted him. "Not your fault that my timing is garbage." She swallowed hard against the lump forming in her throat before continuing in a strained tone. "Congratulations, you two. I hope you get everything you ever wished for."
"Peyton," Luke began to say.
"I'm gonna go now," she choked out. "I really am happy for you, Luke." She then turned her hurt gaze toward the woman by his side, the woman who she'd fallen for in such a short period of time. "It would've been something great."
"Yeah, probably," Lindsey agreed, her steely grey eyes watery.
"Guess we'll never know," Peyton told her coldly before walking away. As the blonde entered Brooke's parked SUV, Peyton could hear Lucas in the distance asking his fiancé what was going on between herself and Lindsey but she didn't bother on waiting to hear whatever excuse the other woman came up with.
Lindsey Strauss was no longer her problem.
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Track 12: Wicked Game - Chris Isaak