Chapter Seventy-One: If There Was Nothing There All Along
Author's note: Wow, the response to last chapter and the poll was AMAZING. Thanks so much, hope you like this one just as much.
"So you guys are getting back together," said Ryan in disbelief, wandering into the kitchen.
"Looks that way," he said, glancing up at her. They'd ordered in for dinner, and she was wandering around with a cardboard carton of noodles and chopsticks.
"So all your issues are just gone? Suddenly everything is okay?" she asked.
"We're working on it. But I love her, you know that. We want to make it work," he said.
"Is she going to move back in here?" asked Ryan, her voice small. Jake, guessing incorrectly that he'd guessed her qualm, moved toward her and wrapped her in a platonic hug.
"Don't worry, you're not going anywhere. I'd miss you too much," he said comfortingly.
Slowly, Ryan let her arms encircle his neck. After all, she reasoned she wouldn't have many more opportunities to do so.
"Peyton? What are you doing here?" asked Christian in surprise, as she entered his office. She glanced down at his shiny wooden desk and remembered, with embarrassment, that they'd once had sex on it.
"I'm kind of here to break up with you," she said, sounding surprised to hear the words come out of her own mouth.
"Is that so?" Christian leaned back in his leather chair, not looking terribly concerned.
"Yeah. I think I finally worked things out with Jake," she said.
"I don't think you can let yourself be happy, Peyton," he said.
"I am, when I'm with him," she said.
"Yet you're never with him. The boy's in love with you, but you won't commit to him. It's what broke you up, you know that. It wasn't Davis, it wasn't Ryan. It was you, terrified of being loved," he said.
"You're my professor. This is so wrong," she said.
"It's been months. Almost a year. That's just occurring to you now?" he asked.
"It occurs to me every time. You make me feel dirty, Christian. He made me feel clean," she said. As she began to cry, he walked over to her and put his arms around her.
"It's okay," he muttered consolingly. For an instant, Peyton pretended she was in Jake's arms. With her eyes open, it was difficult. Christian Braddock's muscular, brown, sinewy body was noticeably different than Jake's paler, broader one.
But with her eyes closed, their kisses were almost indistinguishable.
Jake slowed his footsteps as he walked down the hall. It had taken Ryan almost a half hour of wheedling to get him to go to class at all. With only one class, he had been fully willing to blow it off and spend the morning analyzing the new Peyton situation with her.
Then, she had conveniently remembered that he'd arranged a meeting with their English lit professor, one he couldn't back out of. Jake had reluctantly left for class.
His footsteps echoed on the marble floor. The corridor was suspiciously empty. It was disconcerting, having the school empty. Even Ryan hadn't come in.
"Professor Braddock?" he called, knocking on his office door. Jake could hear shuffling, but no answer came. Impatiently he tried the door and was surprised to find it open.
At first, the sight that greeted him didn't overly surprise him. After all, Professor Braddock always had seemed like something of a playboy. Much like Usher, in Professor style. Jake was mildly disturbed by the sight of his English professor astride a tall, thin blonde girl.
But quickly, being disturbed was nothing. Disturb led to the hurt, pain and unimaginable shock that he felt when he realized that the girl was his girl-the girl he'd loved his entire life.
"Peyton," he said, his voice hollow.
"God, Jake," she said. Within moments, she was again dressed. She rushed to him and laid a comforting hand on his arm. He shook her off.
"You said… with him… the entire time?" he asked.
"I didn't mean to. I tried to call it off," she said desperately.
"You mean it's happened before?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Get out of my life. Get out, and stay out. I thought I could trust you again," he said. He walked to the door. "I was wrong."
He slammed it as he walked out, wishing it was Braddock's head he could be smashing in.
Ryan Annabelle Scott looked discontentedly out of the window into the pouring rain. Discontent was not an emotion she was comfortable with. She had no reason to be. After her parents had died, Nathan had done his best to make her happy. Before they'd died, she'd been spoiled rotten. When she'd moved in with Jake, he'd become her everything.
Ryan knew she'd never be satisfied with anyone else. Why couldn't Jake realize it? Why couldn't Peyton?
Dropping onto the sofa, she tucked her legs against her chest and rested her head on her knees. She ran one hand along a long, smooth leg. Every man she met glanced twice at her legs. Her breasts were small but round and fairly ideal. She had shampoo commercial hair, even features, pretty eyes. She made him laugh. Why did she have to be in love with him?
"Jake?" she asked eagerly, as he walked in. Ryan watched as he fumbled with the lock. Jake was clearly drunk.
"It's Ryan. Ryan'll cheer me up," he said, seemingly to himself.
"Come here," she said, taking his hand and tugging him toward the sofa. He collapsed onto it, and pulled her onto his lap. Didn't he know yet that she couldn't stand to be so close to him?
"You're the best. Everyone else lies. Like Peyton. Bitch," he said.
"You love Peyton," said Ryan reluctantly.
"Nope. She took care of that. I'm done with her," he said, slurring his words.
"Funny, I feel like I've heard that before," she said.
"Your hair is the same colour as hers. But yours is prettier. You're so pretty. Why don't you have a boyfriend?" he asked fondly.
"Because you're my guy," she joked.
Influenced by alcohol and heartbreak, Jake took her face in his hands and kissed her. Blinded by love and faith, Ryan didn't protest.
She shut her eyes tightly as the kiss deepened, willing it to go on longer. Jake was as good as kisser as she'd always suspected. She pulled him to her, her love finally reaching the surface. Her heart was as full as only he could make it.