Chapter Thirty-One
I paused in front of Nathan and Haley's house and stared at it.
It was beautiful. It was a big white house, quite unlike Peyton and Jake's equally large brick. It was smaller than the mansion I had shared with Antonio, but much more lovely and homey. Blue shutters leant colour to the house and the basketball court made it clear who occupied it.
I hesitated before entering without knocking. I wasn't as close to Haley as I was to Peyton, or as she was to Peyton. I hadn't been in years. It had been hard to be close to either of them, when we lived so far away and I had had so much to hide from them. It was easier now.
"Ha…" I started to say, noting how unfamiliar it sounded, even to my own ears. "Tutor Wife?"
"In the kitchen!" she called. With my scant knowledge of the layout of the house, I managed to find her.
"Brooke!" she said excitedly, hugging me. Smiling, I recalled how she'd hated me once.
"Hey," I said. She wiped her hand across her face. I noticed the red rim about her eyes and the slight puffiness of her face.
"Have you been crying?" I asked in surprise. She blushed and giggled self-consciously.
"A little. I was just looking at an old picture of Tess and Sawyer. They're so big now!" she said, tearing up again.
"Wow, someone's pre-menstrual," I commented.
"No. I haven't in… I'm not supposed to for… Oh, whatever. Back to you. Where have you been? Antonio's come here to look for you and Kylie. What happened?" she asked in concern.
"We kind of ran away," I admitted. Her brown eyes grew wider.
"What? Because of… Finally," she said.
"Surprisingly, not because of that. More because of him hiring a hit man to… Never mind," I said. She raised a carefully pruned eyebrow but nodded.
"I'm so sorry. Where have you been?" she asked. I stared past her to the window, into the backyard. The perfect green lawn, the beautiful patio.
"Mouth's," I said softly.
"He's going to kill you," she said in alarm.
"No, he's going to stay away from me," I said, sliding a from across to her.
"He's not allowed to see you, or Kylie? What about the pre-nup?" she asked, scanning the document that declared he wasn't allowed to come near his daughter or his wife and that a divorce would be granted immediately.
"He caved. He had to," I said. She cocked her head sideways, puzzled.
"What do you really want, Brooke?" she asked.
"I want him to go away," I said.
"I know. After that. Do you want… this?" she asked, casting a glance around her immaculate kitchen, the pictures of her healthy, beautiful kids and of her with her sexy, stable husband.
"Not with him," I said, taking in the sight hungrily.
"Then with who? Mouth? Just with Kylie? Or with Lucas?" she asked.
"With Mouth," I admitted.
"Yeah. Something's wrong with Luke. He won't talk to me," she said sadly. I thought briefly of the friendship of Luke and Haley before they'd collided into our world.
"I went to him, before I went to Mouth," I said softly.
"You never could make up your mind on anything," she said, smiling briefly.
"And that whole thing with Peyton-how could he have possibly done that?" I asked, shaking my head.
"I don't think he did," she admitted.
"What?"
"Think about it. Luke's messed up now, but he wasn't then. I don't know what he's capable of now, but back then he was just a kid, not one who would rape his best friend's wife," she said.
"Yeah. And Peyton would have told us if something had happened. Maybe not then, but it's been seventeen years since then," I said. Seventeen years. Half a lifetime ago, and it might as well have been a full one.
"Unless she wasn't aware…"
"You have to be aware. You can be knowingly ignorant, but it's impossible for that to happen without her not realizing afterward," said Haley shortly, interrupting me.
"I have to talk to him," I said.
"You do," she agreed. I hugged her and kissed cheeks before I departed at almost a run.
I pounded on his hotel room door with one fist. He was staying at the best hotel in town, at the penthouse suite. Basketball hadn't made him happy, but it sure as hell had made him rich.
"Lucas Eugene Scott!" I yelled into the room. After another minute, he answered it, clad only in a pair of boxers. After seventeen years, he still had an impressive pack. His eyes were reddish, he looked disoriented. He was completely hungover.
"I'm not here to sleep with you," I said quickly.
"I know," he said slowly.
"Can I come in?" I asked, after another tense moment.
"Luke, please tell me what's going on with you," I begged five minutes later.
"What?"
"Seriously. You sexually harassed me, you raped Peyton, what's up with you?" I asked.
"I'm an asshole. And I'm so, so sorry," he said.
"Yeah, I know. I wanted it as well. But Peyton?" I asked in exasperation.
"I… never did with Peyton," he said slowly.
"Bull."
"It's not! I just said that because…" he started.
"What?"
"Never mind," he said quickly.
"Luke…" I pleaded.
"Brooke, no," he responded. His eyes hardened, and I backed down meekly.
"Fine. But can you just talk to me? Explain what turned you into… this?" I asked, indicating his obvious drunkenness.
"It was…"
"A girl?" I guessed.
"Of course. We were in love. I finally got over Peyton. We were together for a whole two years," he said, apparently remembering fondly.
"Why didn't you tell us?" I asked.
"Because I didn't want you to know. But it was great. We had an apartment together, we played basketball together. She had a bad family too, a really bad guy brother and distant parents," he explained.
"Then what happened?" I asked. Whatever it was, I knew instinctively that it wasn't good.
"Nothing. We were engaged, and I got back and one day she was just gone. Without a trace. She took every picture, everything she owned. And she never came back," he said.
"I'm so sorry," I said.
"It was a long time ago," he said.
"Like that makes a difference," I consoled. Like it did.
"It was harder even than when…" he said, trailing off as he caught the look on my face. Then when Peyton had dumped him after he'd cheated on her with me. Then when Peyton had married Jake, he meant.
"Yeah," I said understandingly.
"How are you doing, Brooke?" he asked suddenly, after yet another moment of silence.
"I've been better," I admitted. "Hey, you know you still look the same?"
"I've been told. You look better," he said. I didn't.
"You're sweet. God, why are guys such jerks?"
"Me?"
"Antonio. He had his first wife murdered, you know?" I said. Lucas stared.
"That's not exactly what I expected to hear. But come on, you have Mouth now," he said.
"How did you know that?" I asked suspiciously. Had Mouth told him?
"Come on, you live with him."
"Yeah, but we're not… like that," I said.
"What, you mean you haven't…" he trailed off in surprise. After all, he knew me. "But the first time you guys ever got together, you…"
The first time Mouth and I had gotten together we'd slept together. But it was a long, long time ago.
"You know I love him, really I do, and it's good with him because I do, but he's not really good," I admitted.
"Well you are the only girl he's ever been with," said Lucas.
"Seriously?" I asked in surprise. We hadn't slept together in ten years.
"I don't know, actually, but you were the first. He doesn't even talk to me," said Lucas.
"Yeah, because I told him," I said.
"That..?"
"What you tried to do. I just didn't tell him…" I said, trailing off and blushing.
"You didn't tell him...?
"What I wanted just as much," I said, catching his gaze and holding it. Our eyes stared into each others for a long time as the years peeled back and left only Brooke Davis, cheerleader and Lucas Scott, basketball player.
He kissed me before I could kiss him and I kissed him back in desire. I'd missed Desire. Antonio Ososio had been attractive, but had stopped making me desire him when he'd started to abuse me.
Our hands were quick and remembered their way better than our minds did. He was easily assessable but it took more time for him to rid me of my shirt and bra and then my skirt.
With his knowledgeable hands and lips I came before he entered me and we completed what we'd started seventeen years previously.
"That was stupid," I said, hours later as we lay together in his bed.
"Yeah," he agreed.
"I mean, I'm in love with Mouth, you're in love with your mystery girl, I'm technically still married," I said.
"But…"
"And I lost my diaphragm, so I've had unprotected sex with two different men now, which is a big no no," I said.
"But how can something so wrong be so right?" he asked. I leaned over and kissed him.
"That too."
Author's note: I hate to do this, because I like being a little mysterious, but here's a list to help you out.
Callie: Throwing up.
Lauren: Cravings.
Jenny: Late period, off the pill.
Peyton: Sensitivity to smells.
Haley: Emotional.
Brooke: Unprotected sex.
Okay, so I know I'm being evil with all the red herrings, but it's fun. And to Nathen'sraven: Don't worry, this is just a setback. I'm following your plot. Oh, and I love your story.
