Brooke Davis' white Volkswagen slowly pulls up Lucas Scott's thin strip of
a driveway. The path of concrete is bordered by a neatly-kept array of
flowers, she notices. It's a forest of bright hues and pastels-tulips,
orchids, magnolias. They all bloom in abundance in his small front lawn,
which seems almost meticulously kept. Apparently Karen is a very
proficient gardener.
His home is smaller and quaint. There's a prominent porch near his front door with a swing that sways to and fro in the gentle breeze. The building seems homey and inviting. The only indication that a teenager resides within is the 'Ravens Basketball' sign proudly displayed along the shrubbery and rose bushes, beneath a set of wind chimes.
Brooke shifts to park, and then looks over at her companion. They rode home in almost complete silence, the scent of the sea emanating from their bodies. Brooke knows it's because of what they did-what he did. She feels guilty, but she's also honored. To her he is the first man that it has ever meant anything with.
"So. . ." Brooke starts. "Nice place you got here."
Lucas smiles meekly at her. "Yea, my mom just recently got into the whole gardening thing. She's really into all that hands-on stuff. Of course, Keith did help her a little bit."
Brooke grins, studying his gentle blue orbs-they're an ocean of memories, emotions, and feelings. She wants to tap into that, enter the waters of his soul and liberate him. "Your mom sounds like quite a lady."
"Yea, she's great."
"So, speaking of your big-bad uncle-he doesn't appear to be present."
"Nah, Keith won't be home for another hour and a half; it's only four. He closes up at six forty-five."
"That make's sense," Brooke replies. Their conversation drifts away to silence, as Brooke's hand travels to the nape of his neck. "Are you ok, Lucas?"
He can feel the concern in her voice and he's immediately sorry for giving her that impression that he regrets what they did.
"I'm fine. Really," he reassures her. His thumb dances softly across her chin as he brushes a strand of her tresses away from her face. Both of his hands softly caress her cheeks as his lips brush hers.
She lets him kiss her, savoring the moment, memorizing the texture of his beautiful lips as they fastidiously meet hers. He pulls away sensitively, resting his forehead against hers.
"So, you wanna come inside?" he whispers softly, his breath soothing against her face.
"Did you even have to ask?" she replies, with the soft huskiness in her voice.
He leads her up the walk and slides his key into the lock. The door opens and the pair step inside.
His house is like a sanctuary-clean and dimly lit. Lucas softly closes the door, the clink of the lock setting in place seeming to destroy the sanctity of the place. Luke flips a switch and illumination of light flutters across the room.
The house smells like vanilla and peppermint as Brooke follows him into the spacious sitting room. It's easily the largest room in the house, yet very well decorated. Pictures of Lucas and his mother adorn the powder-blue walls.
"Your mom is really pretty," Brooke inputs.
"Thanks, and I agree."
"And who is this delightfully fat and very naked fellow here?" Brooke laughs, studying a photograph of infant Lucas in the bathtub proudly displaying his rubber ducky and everything else God gave him.
"Yea-that was back when I wasn't modest," Lucas smiles as he opens the refrigerator. Brooke comes up behind him and slips her hands around his waist. She kisses the area on his bare back where his shoulder blades meet.
"You're so beautiful," she declares quietly.
"Oh God, Brooke-If you only knew."
Brooke grasps him by the shoulders and pushes him back onto their wooden table. Her hands travel all over his body. She nibbles at his jaw-line, kissing his neck. His are upon her back, playing with the string of her bikini top.
She grinds against his body as she sucks on his upper lip with an experience only Brooke Davis possesses. He can't speak, can barely breathe. All he can do is follow and be guided. The room is ablaze with their ardor and heat when the beeping permeates through the kitchen.
A panting Lucas rises off of the table, looking back to Brooke. "That would be the chicken-pot pie."
"Yum-have sex and eat chicken-pot pie!" Brooke beams as she rises from the table and walks into the adjacent room.
"I need to get some forks," Lucas calls back from the kitchen.
Brooke doesn't respond, just sits on the stool in front of the piano. She was quite the pianist when she was a kid, and wonders if she can revive that aptitude she possessed so long ago. Her well-manicured fingers meet the cool ivory of the keys. Sheet music is in front of her-"Ave Maria".
Always the daredevil, Brooke begins to play. With surprising dexterity, her fingertips move with fervor and speed across the keys. She's doing well, she realizes, as she reaches to turn the page.
"You're pretty good."
Startled, Brooke stops with a bang and turns. "Well-you scared the shit out of me," she laughs.
"Sorry-the chicken-pot pie got a little burnt so we're just going to let it air out for about fifteen minutes."
Brooke gleams. "Lucas, you better hope you never lose that pretty face of yours because apparently your cooking skills are sub par."
Lucas smiles and then looks at the music. "It's like this-" he explains as he starts to play.
Brooke is astonished at once. Although she's a good player, he's exquisite. He takes the piece and makes it his own, his fingers moving across the keys with unmatched speed and precision. His face is fixed in concentration as his eyes move across the thin sheet of paper, studying the notes. His head nods in tune to the music and the pace, his bare foot softly pressed on the pedal.
Brooke's mouth is open in awe when he finishes. "Wow Lucas! That was really, really good. I mean-I didn't even know you could play."
"I didn't know you could either!"
She smiles slyly, her token, sexy half-smirk as she turns to face the piano again. "There's a lot you don't know about me."
Lucas pauses for a little bit, debating over whether or not to ask the next question. "Brooke-how come your parents are never home?"
Brooke stops, caught completely off-guard. She's calculating what she needs to say because, for once, Brooke is completely at a loss for words. "I don't know, Lucas. My dad's always working and my mom is always out with her friends."
"I'm really sorry."
"Don't be. They can do what they want to, and I'll just live my life."
"But you shouldn't have to do that-I mean, that's not fair to you at all."
"It's a small price to pay, really. My parents aren't like yours-your mom I mean."
Lucas stops collecting the music. "Well, if it means anything-I think they've done a pretty bang-up job despite everything."
"A pretty bang-up job at what?"
"At raising a fine daughter. Now come on-I think the food's ready."
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It's six-thirty when he walks her to the door, both of their stomachs full with chicken-pot pipe and Dr. Pepper. The day is gradually drawing to a close with the sun high in the sky.
"Thanks for today," Lucas says to her.
"No problem," she replies back, smiling as her finger traces his collarbone. "I had a very, very good time."
He leans down to kiss her, then, when they're finished, runs a hand through her hair.
"I guess I better get going before Uncle Keith gets home, eh?"
"Yea-I wish you could stay."
"Me too, handsome. But, I'll see you tomorrow." She stands on her tip- toes to kiss his cheek, then whisper in his ear.
"I have a feeling," she says softly, "that we just may get away with our little field trip that we took today."
And in a flash, she's gone, walking slowly to her car. He watches her as she goes, entranced by her beauty, confidence, and mystique. She's definitely different than what he initially surmised. He's probably one of the few that knows her for what she truly is-he's seen this hidden side that she tries to obscure behind her alcohol and sex addiction.
But she's his now.
He waves as she backs out of the driveway and speeds off down the road.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Lucas is upstairs in his room reading 'All The Pretty Horses' by Cormac McCarthy when he hears the door open downstairs.
"LUCAS, GET YOUR SKINNY ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" The bellowing vocals of Keith Scott reverberate through the house and Lucas knows he's in for it.
The hardwood is cold under his bare foot as he descends the steps.
I am so screwed, he thinks to himself, holding the banister in a death grip.
"What's up, Keith?"
"Oh, you know good and well what's up, Lucas. Get over here."
Lucas enters the kitchen where Keith is standing; he entered through the backdoor, with his business information in his duffel bag which he placed on the table-the same table that had supported Brooke and Lucas a mere hour before.
"I got a very disturbing call today from your principal telling me that my nephew Lucas Scott got caught running out of the school without any shoes or shirt on during the middle of third period. Care to indulge me with an explanation?"
Lucas knew he was lost before he started. "Keith, man-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it." Lucas is lying through his teeth; he's glad he did it and he wouldn't turn back time to change it.
"Damn right you shouldn't have! And who's this girl that you were with? Because apparently she was fit to be working at some strip club judging from what she was wearing. What were you two doing?"
"We-"
"No," Keith interjects, "I don't want to know. You had better be thankful. Coach Whitey was less than pleased with your behavior."
"Look, I said I was sorry, Keith-"
"You had better be sorry because for the next month you're butt is staying here-you go to school, go to practice, that is-if Whitey lets you, and then come home. No more seeing this girl, no more social life. After each and every game, you're coming home with me. I don't even know what I'm going to tell your mother. I'm completely dumbfounded-I would have never expected this out of you."
"No, Keith-please don't tell her," Luke exclaims quickly. "Just punish me and be done with it."
Keith stops, fuming. Lucas half-expects him to start exuding smoke form his nose. "You're right, because we both know that if I did tell her, she'd get the first plane back from Florence. Now get up to your room because I really can't even stand the sight of you right now."
Lucas exits the room and rushes up the stairs, closing his bedroom door softly behind him.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
I hope y'all liked it!
Next up-We meet Brooke's parents and see just how they react to their little excursion. Also, Brooke and Peyton reflect on their situation. More from Haley and Nathan as well! Stay tuned!
His home is smaller and quaint. There's a prominent porch near his front door with a swing that sways to and fro in the gentle breeze. The building seems homey and inviting. The only indication that a teenager resides within is the 'Ravens Basketball' sign proudly displayed along the shrubbery and rose bushes, beneath a set of wind chimes.
Brooke shifts to park, and then looks over at her companion. They rode home in almost complete silence, the scent of the sea emanating from their bodies. Brooke knows it's because of what they did-what he did. She feels guilty, but she's also honored. To her he is the first man that it has ever meant anything with.
"So. . ." Brooke starts. "Nice place you got here."
Lucas smiles meekly at her. "Yea, my mom just recently got into the whole gardening thing. She's really into all that hands-on stuff. Of course, Keith did help her a little bit."
Brooke grins, studying his gentle blue orbs-they're an ocean of memories, emotions, and feelings. She wants to tap into that, enter the waters of his soul and liberate him. "Your mom sounds like quite a lady."
"Yea, she's great."
"So, speaking of your big-bad uncle-he doesn't appear to be present."
"Nah, Keith won't be home for another hour and a half; it's only four. He closes up at six forty-five."
"That make's sense," Brooke replies. Their conversation drifts away to silence, as Brooke's hand travels to the nape of his neck. "Are you ok, Lucas?"
He can feel the concern in her voice and he's immediately sorry for giving her that impression that he regrets what they did.
"I'm fine. Really," he reassures her. His thumb dances softly across her chin as he brushes a strand of her tresses away from her face. Both of his hands softly caress her cheeks as his lips brush hers.
She lets him kiss her, savoring the moment, memorizing the texture of his beautiful lips as they fastidiously meet hers. He pulls away sensitively, resting his forehead against hers.
"So, you wanna come inside?" he whispers softly, his breath soothing against her face.
"Did you even have to ask?" she replies, with the soft huskiness in her voice.
He leads her up the walk and slides his key into the lock. The door opens and the pair step inside.
His house is like a sanctuary-clean and dimly lit. Lucas softly closes the door, the clink of the lock setting in place seeming to destroy the sanctity of the place. Luke flips a switch and illumination of light flutters across the room.
The house smells like vanilla and peppermint as Brooke follows him into the spacious sitting room. It's easily the largest room in the house, yet very well decorated. Pictures of Lucas and his mother adorn the powder-blue walls.
"Your mom is really pretty," Brooke inputs.
"Thanks, and I agree."
"And who is this delightfully fat and very naked fellow here?" Brooke laughs, studying a photograph of infant Lucas in the bathtub proudly displaying his rubber ducky and everything else God gave him.
"Yea-that was back when I wasn't modest," Lucas smiles as he opens the refrigerator. Brooke comes up behind him and slips her hands around his waist. She kisses the area on his bare back where his shoulder blades meet.
"You're so beautiful," she declares quietly.
"Oh God, Brooke-If you only knew."
Brooke grasps him by the shoulders and pushes him back onto their wooden table. Her hands travel all over his body. She nibbles at his jaw-line, kissing his neck. His are upon her back, playing with the string of her bikini top.
She grinds against his body as she sucks on his upper lip with an experience only Brooke Davis possesses. He can't speak, can barely breathe. All he can do is follow and be guided. The room is ablaze with their ardor and heat when the beeping permeates through the kitchen.
A panting Lucas rises off of the table, looking back to Brooke. "That would be the chicken-pot pie."
"Yum-have sex and eat chicken-pot pie!" Brooke beams as she rises from the table and walks into the adjacent room.
"I need to get some forks," Lucas calls back from the kitchen.
Brooke doesn't respond, just sits on the stool in front of the piano. She was quite the pianist when she was a kid, and wonders if she can revive that aptitude she possessed so long ago. Her well-manicured fingers meet the cool ivory of the keys. Sheet music is in front of her-"Ave Maria".
Always the daredevil, Brooke begins to play. With surprising dexterity, her fingertips move with fervor and speed across the keys. She's doing well, she realizes, as she reaches to turn the page.
"You're pretty good."
Startled, Brooke stops with a bang and turns. "Well-you scared the shit out of me," she laughs.
"Sorry-the chicken-pot pie got a little burnt so we're just going to let it air out for about fifteen minutes."
Brooke gleams. "Lucas, you better hope you never lose that pretty face of yours because apparently your cooking skills are sub par."
Lucas smiles and then looks at the music. "It's like this-" he explains as he starts to play.
Brooke is astonished at once. Although she's a good player, he's exquisite. He takes the piece and makes it his own, his fingers moving across the keys with unmatched speed and precision. His face is fixed in concentration as his eyes move across the thin sheet of paper, studying the notes. His head nods in tune to the music and the pace, his bare foot softly pressed on the pedal.
Brooke's mouth is open in awe when he finishes. "Wow Lucas! That was really, really good. I mean-I didn't even know you could play."
"I didn't know you could either!"
She smiles slyly, her token, sexy half-smirk as she turns to face the piano again. "There's a lot you don't know about me."
Lucas pauses for a little bit, debating over whether or not to ask the next question. "Brooke-how come your parents are never home?"
Brooke stops, caught completely off-guard. She's calculating what she needs to say because, for once, Brooke is completely at a loss for words. "I don't know, Lucas. My dad's always working and my mom is always out with her friends."
"I'm really sorry."
"Don't be. They can do what they want to, and I'll just live my life."
"But you shouldn't have to do that-I mean, that's not fair to you at all."
"It's a small price to pay, really. My parents aren't like yours-your mom I mean."
Lucas stops collecting the music. "Well, if it means anything-I think they've done a pretty bang-up job despite everything."
"A pretty bang-up job at what?"
"At raising a fine daughter. Now come on-I think the food's ready."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
It's six-thirty when he walks her to the door, both of their stomachs full with chicken-pot pipe and Dr. Pepper. The day is gradually drawing to a close with the sun high in the sky.
"Thanks for today," Lucas says to her.
"No problem," she replies back, smiling as her finger traces his collarbone. "I had a very, very good time."
He leans down to kiss her, then, when they're finished, runs a hand through her hair.
"I guess I better get going before Uncle Keith gets home, eh?"
"Yea-I wish you could stay."
"Me too, handsome. But, I'll see you tomorrow." She stands on her tip- toes to kiss his cheek, then whisper in his ear.
"I have a feeling," she says softly, "that we just may get away with our little field trip that we took today."
And in a flash, she's gone, walking slowly to her car. He watches her as she goes, entranced by her beauty, confidence, and mystique. She's definitely different than what he initially surmised. He's probably one of the few that knows her for what she truly is-he's seen this hidden side that she tries to obscure behind her alcohol and sex addiction.
But she's his now.
He waves as she backs out of the driveway and speeds off down the road.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Lucas is upstairs in his room reading 'All The Pretty Horses' by Cormac McCarthy when he hears the door open downstairs.
"LUCAS, GET YOUR SKINNY ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" The bellowing vocals of Keith Scott reverberate through the house and Lucas knows he's in for it.
The hardwood is cold under his bare foot as he descends the steps.
I am so screwed, he thinks to himself, holding the banister in a death grip.
"What's up, Keith?"
"Oh, you know good and well what's up, Lucas. Get over here."
Lucas enters the kitchen where Keith is standing; he entered through the backdoor, with his business information in his duffel bag which he placed on the table-the same table that had supported Brooke and Lucas a mere hour before.
"I got a very disturbing call today from your principal telling me that my nephew Lucas Scott got caught running out of the school without any shoes or shirt on during the middle of third period. Care to indulge me with an explanation?"
Lucas knew he was lost before he started. "Keith, man-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it." Lucas is lying through his teeth; he's glad he did it and he wouldn't turn back time to change it.
"Damn right you shouldn't have! And who's this girl that you were with? Because apparently she was fit to be working at some strip club judging from what she was wearing. What were you two doing?"
"We-"
"No," Keith interjects, "I don't want to know. You had better be thankful. Coach Whitey was less than pleased with your behavior."
"Look, I said I was sorry, Keith-"
"You had better be sorry because for the next month you're butt is staying here-you go to school, go to practice, that is-if Whitey lets you, and then come home. No more seeing this girl, no more social life. After each and every game, you're coming home with me. I don't even know what I'm going to tell your mother. I'm completely dumbfounded-I would have never expected this out of you."
"No, Keith-please don't tell her," Luke exclaims quickly. "Just punish me and be done with it."
Keith stops, fuming. Lucas half-expects him to start exuding smoke form his nose. "You're right, because we both know that if I did tell her, she'd get the first plane back from Florence. Now get up to your room because I really can't even stand the sight of you right now."
Lucas exits the room and rushes up the stairs, closing his bedroom door softly behind him.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
I hope y'all liked it!
Next up-We meet Brooke's parents and see just how they react to their little excursion. Also, Brooke and Peyton reflect on their situation. More from Haley and Nathan as well! Stay tuned!