Ok so I don't know how well this story line is going down but to those of you who are hating it, good news, there's only chapter left after this one and we're quite literally back to normality! I hope its not too bad though, it was one of those things that happened on a whim and now I have to follow through whether I like it or not! :D Enjoy (or at least try to!)
"How is it that twats like 'im manage to get birds like that?" Steve snorted as he took another sip of water.
Pete just continued to stare at the red head, wanting more than anything to get up and hug her but knowing that it wouldn't go down all that well. She didn't even know who he was.
"Right, shall we get going, mate?" Steve sighed. "I dunno about you but I've got shit to do this afternoon,"
"Yeah," Pete nodded eagerly, standing up from the table a little too fast and causing his knife and fork to fall to the floor.
"Christ, what's got your dandies in a twist?" his brother laughed.
"What?" Pete frowned, still looking at Lara. "Nothing, nothing, I just…"
Following his gaze, Steve snorted and shook his head.
"Don't even think about it, bruv," he warned. "I'm all for a challenge myself but tryna shag a clients bird ain't gonna go down well,"
"What?" Pete looked at him in confusion. "I don't wanna shag 'er, I just…she looks familiar,"
"Maybe you already have?" Steve joked, throwing a fifty pound note on the table and picking up his briefcase. "Come on, Fabio,"
Letting Steve shove him forward, Pete staggered through the tables and felt his palms start to sweat when he realised that they were nearing the couple who appeared to be arguing.
"I just think that it wouldn't have hurt to call, would it?" Will was snapping. "I mean, what am I supposed to do now?"
"Look, I just…it's a busy day, Will," Lara rolled her eyes. "There's too much going on to just take a three hour chunk out of the day to stare at flowers."
"Oh well, excuse me for wanting to get things sorted," he snorted at her. "Silly me for thinking that proposing six months ago would actually lead to some sort of wedding,"
"Look, as much fun as I'm having fighting with you, I have to go," she disdainfully kissed his cheek and tried not recoil when she felt his hand on her hip. "I'll get it sorted, ok?"
"Fine," Will practically pouted. "I'll see you later,"
"Alright," Steve cleared his throat. "Sorry mate, can we squeeze through?"
"What?" he frowned, turning to see Pete and Steve behind him. "Oh sure,"
Looking her up and down Pete fought the urge to grin; she was the same Lara he remembered, her auburn hair pulled up into a loose bun, the simple strapless black dress she was wearing made slightly dressier by the bright purple shoes she was toppling around in.
"Nice shoes," he teased before he could help himself, forgetting for the moment where he was.
"Thanks, handsome," Lara laughed. "I'm choosing to ignore the sarcasm and take that as a compliment,"
"By all means," Pete smirked.
Lara beamed at him, blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes and holding out her hand.
"Lara," she introduced herself.
"Pete," he stuttered, shaking her hand and feeling tears sting his eyes. She was real; Lara, one of his best friends, the closest thing he'd ever had to a little sister was stood in front of him.
"We should get going," Will frowned, obviously not happy with the interaction going on between them.
"Sure, I have to get back to the office anyway," she rolled her eyes dramatically. "Couture won't sell itself,"
Pete laughed, remembering all the times Allie would say that; God he so badly wanted to ask about her, just drop her name into conversation, he could pretend that they'd gone to school together or something…
"Oh, before I go," Lara slapped Will on the arm. "I hope you haven't forgotten about tonight,"
"How could I?" he mumbled.
"In fact, why don't you ask Pete and…" she glanced at Steve expectantly.
"Steve," he smiled.
"Pete and Steve here if they want to come?" Lara blinked up at Will, batting her eyelashes in an over-exaggerated manner.
"I'm sure that they don't want…"
"It's a cocktail party," Lara interrupted him, turning to the boys and smiling. "Free bar, nice food, excellent company," she gestured to herself and Pete laughed. "What'd you say?"
"I'm in," Pete piped up, earning a surprised and slightly annoyed look from his brother.
"Yeah, I supposed we could stop in for a bit," he shrugged.
"Good decision," Lara beamed. "The address is Grenville House on Belgravia Square,"
Pete's eyes widened as he watched her scrawl the address down on a piece of paper. His address! Shit, that meant that Allie might…
"It starts at 8 so just come along whenever," she smiled, handing him the card. "Oh and it's a strictly no dates policy," she winked.
Pete laughed and shook his head; even in this universe or whatever the hell this place was, Lara was hitting on him.
"We'll keep that in mind," he nodded. "Cheers,"
"Right then," she turned back to Will and patted his chest. "I'll see you later," she grinned over her shoulder at Pete. "That goes for you, too, handsome."
Waving the card at her, Pete smirked as she strode back out of the restaurant, stopping to chat to a waiter on the way.
"You really don't have to come," Will cleared his throat, gesturing to the card.
"What?" Pete frowned. "Nah, sounds like fun,"
"It's just that my fiancé gets a little carried away with parties," he continued, trying to stress the point and no doubt get them to back out.
"Fiancé?" Pete spat, glancing past him to where Lara was chatting away, his eyes widening in horror when he saw that there was indeed a ring on her finger.
What the fuck was going on? There was no way Lara would have ended up with Will? Where did that leave Allie?
"Soon to be wife," Will continued. "The wedding is in June,"
"Not long then," Steve smiled. "Congratulations,"
"Don't congratulate me too fast," the blonde snorted. "It's a miracle if I can have lunch with her these days,"
Shrugging uncaringly, he flipped his phone open and began dialling a number.
"So we'll see you a bit later then," Steve raised his eyebrows.
"What?" Will frowned. "Oh right, of course, whatever…" he waved them off and turned his back, proceeding to talk loud enough into his phone that he made a passing waiter jump and spill some soup.
"That bloke right there," Steve took a deep breath. "Is a world class cunt,"
"You don't know the half of it," Pete snorted, remembering the night he had first met Will, watching him lose his temper with Allie and shove her into the side of his car.
"You're not actually thinking of going to this thing tonight, are you?" Steve laughed, gesturing to the card in his hands.
"Bruv," Pete looped his arm around his shoulders and smirked. "I wouldn't miss it for the world,"
"That's £2.89 then please,"
Pete looked up from his phone to see the till assistant looking at him expectantly. He'd been scrolling through his phone book all afternoon in hopes of locating someone else's number but weirdly enough if anything, there were a lot of numbers missing.
There was no Bovver in his phonebook, no Matt, no Benjamin and definitely no Allie.
"Sorry mate," he smiled, handing him the correct change and picking up his coffee. Shoving the phone back into his pocket, he carried on walking, his usually handsome face caught in a perpetual frown as he turned the corner towards the tube station.
Catching sight of the huge queue forming down the street, he blinked in surprise and wondered what was happening. It seemed to stretch past the entire line of shops and round towards the station, hoards of people chatting loudly and shuddering as the cold wind blew about them.
"Tell me there's not another strike on the underground," he groaned.
"Nah mate," a spotty kid next to him who could have been no more than 20 piped up. "It's that big book signing' today, innit?"
"This is all for a book?" Pete snorted. "Good luck, son,"
"'Ere, you're a Hammers fan," the kid gestured to the background of his phone. "I'm surprised you ain't wanting to get in on this as well,"
"And what's 'this'?" Pete raised an eyebrow.
"That Yank who wrote the book on all the firm shit," the kid laughed. "I swear 'alf the people in this queue are Hammers fans queuing up just to twat 'im one,"
Pete froze, staring at the kid in horror.
"Lemme 'ave a look at that book," he nodded, holding out his hands.
With a shrug, the kid handed over his copy and Pete suddenly felt as though he'd been sucker punched.
"I can't believe the little shit's still walking," the kid laughed. "Time was he'd 'ave been beaten to death before that got the chance to go to press, especially by the main bloke in that book, he sounds like a right fuckin' lunatic,"
"And this is all true, yeah?" Pete half whispered, turning the book over in his hands.
"Yeah, apparently," the kid nodded. "I even remember 'earing about that bloke who almost died in that fight at Trinity Warf, I tell you somethin' that Buckner prick knows 'is shit,"
Pete nodded mutely, staring down at the book hard and trying to get his breathing back to normal as the reason he didn't have Matt Buckner's name in his phone became very, very clear.
Dave collapsed down onto his sofa with a long sigh; the flight back from Paris had been a killer today and now he was back home, he had no plans other than to order pizza, watch the match and sleep.
"Dave!"
Rolling his eyes at the sound of Pete's voice booming through the flat, he realised that his dreams might well be short lived.
"Dave," the blonde burst into the living room panting for breath.
"Fuck me," Dave laughed. "What's 'appened to you?"
He didn't answer, merely opened the bag he was carrying and dropped the book onto the coffee table with a thud.
"Shit me," Dave breathed, leaning forward and picking it up. "I can't believe you actually spent money on this bollocks,"
"Matt wrote a book," Pete shook his head. "He fucked us over,"
"Yeah, I know mate," Dave frowned. "I was there,"
"But…" Pete looked around the living room, completely exasperated. "He was in the fuckin' firm!"
"Yeah, until he went back to Harvard with a fuckin' book deal under his belt," Dave snorted. "What's all this about, Pete?"
"I know this sounds fuckin' crazy," he sat down slowly. "And I can't explain it but I need you to tell me what happened,"
"What happened when?" Dave frowned.
"Listen mate," Pete sighed. "As retarded as it sounds, I don't remember anything before this morning. I talked to my mum, I talked to Steve, I've even tried calling people but I don't 'ave anyone's fuckin' phone number! I mean where the fuck are Swill and Bov and the rest of the lads,"
"Pete, Swill lives around the corner, Ike moved to Dublin with his missus and…"
"And what?" Pete prompted.
"Pete, what the fuck's going on with you?" he asked quietly.
"I don't know!" Pete half shouted. "All I know is that nothing makes sense at the moment, so just tell me where the fuck Bovver is, alright?"
"You know where he is, mate," Dave looked up at him, his eyes darkening and letting Pete know that he wouldn't like this answer. "He's dead, Pete. Bovver died five years ago in the fight with Hatcher,"
Pete blinked and sat back in the sofa, dropping his head into his hands for a long moment and trying to get his heartbeat back to normal .
Bovver was dead.
Ike had moved away.
Matt had fucked them all over and written a book about the firm.
And Allie didn't know he existed and even worse, he was still unsure if she existed.
Oh God…what if Allie was dead?
Shannon and Bovver had died in this universe so what if she had as well?
"You alright, mate?" Dave asked gently after a second.
"Nah," Pete shook his head, looking up at his friend with tears in his eyes. "No, I'm really not,"
"You're late," Steve told Pete as he climbed into the car.
"I 'ad to get my suit sorted," he replied, fastening his seat belt and trying to focus on the positive things that might come out of tonight.
After spending two hours staring at Matt's book and learning from Dave that following the fight in the Warf that day, Bovver had been killed by Tommy while trying to save him and Shannon had taken a bottle of painkillers and slit her wrists three months later, he was more than ready to take advantage of the free bar that Lara had promised them earlier.
"I didn't know you owned a suit," Steve smirked.
"Neither did I," he shot back as his brother pulled the car out from the curb and onto the street.
"Matt's book came out today," he informed him quietly.
"I know," Steve nodded. "He sent me an invite to the opening,"
"What'd you do?" Pete asked in surprise.
"I told him to go fuck 'imself," his brother replied shortly. "Where the fuck is this house?"
"Down towards Sloane Square, take Belgravia Avenue and then it's the big black and white fucker on the left,"
Steve stared at him in confusion and Pete realised that he had to be more careful than that tonight.
"I uh, looked it up on Google maps," he explained with a shrug.
"Right," Steve grinned. "You must really want to shag that bird then, eh?"
"Fuck off," Pete laughed as they turned on the street and towards the house.
It came into view and Pete felt his stomach flip flop; it seemed wrong that he was about to walk into his own house as a stranger but until he figured out what the hell was going on, he didn't have that much of a choice.
"Fuck me," Steve whistled as they pulled into the driveway. "I knew that bloke was loaded but this is fuckin' ridiculous,"
"And you 'aven't even seen the back," Pete snorted. "The pool is bigger than my flat,"
Once again his brother turned to him with an expression of immense confusion, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the younger man intently.
"Pete," he shook his head. "What's going on?"
"Uh…" he trailed off as they pulled up to the front of the house and unbuckled his seatbelt. "I'll explain later when we're both hammered,"
"What's wrong with now?" Steve asked.
"Because bruv, unless you've got 'alf a bottle of Smirnoff down ya, you won't believe a fuckin' word of what I've got to say," he smirked. "Come on, 'urry up before they realise who we are and call security or somethin',"
Steve laughed and shook his head, climbing out of the car and straightening his suit before following Pete up the steps to the house; the large door was slightly ajar and so with a deep breath, he pushed it open.
The house was…cold. Gone were the photos lining the walls, in their places poncy looking paintings that probably cost more than his car. The décor was more modern and cold, the once warm cream walls now a bright white.
"Money can't buy taste, eh?" Steve whispered, shoving his brother further into the house and following him quickly.
"Shit!"
Both men turned and looked towards the stairs where the shout had come from, Pete's mouth tugging upwards into a huge grin when he saw who it was.
Richard Harding sat staring at his phone, his greying hair falling into his eyes as he stared intently down at the handset. After a moment of cursing under his breath, he seemed to sense that he was being watched and looked up at the men in front of him with a lopsided grin.
"Sorry chaps," he nodded. "The party is through there,"
"'Aving trouble getting the rugby score?" Pete guessed, knowing how much his father-in-law loved the sport.
Only he's not your father-in-law here, he doesn't have fuckin clue who you are! His brain shouted at him.
"A man after my own heart," Richard laughed. "South Africa are playing England and I'm stuck here handing out canapés," he rolled his eyes.
"If it makes you feel any better, I 'eard on the way 'ere that we're kicking their arses," Pete smirked.
"Oh thank Christ," Richard patted his chest. "I've got a £300 wager running on the buggers; my youngest son thinks that South Africa is out to steal the season,"
"Not likely," Pete told him.
"Since when do you know fuck all about rugby?" Steve whispered in his ear.
"Since now," Pete shot back, turning back to Richard and smiling politely.
"Sorry chaps, I've been standing here wittering at you and haven't even bothered to introduce myself," he held out his hand. "Richard Harding,"
"I'm Pete Dunham," Pete smiled, feeling more than a little odd. "This is my brother Steve,"
"Always good to meet a fellow rugby man," Richard clapped him on the back. "What's your whiskey pallet like?"
"Uh…Jack Daniels is as fancy as it gets," Pete laughed, scratching the back of his head.
"Well then," Richard grinned. "I think we best educate you, don't you?"
"Would you hurry up," Lara groaned, banging on the bathroom door again. "It's just a bloody dress!"
The door whipped open and she stumbled forward nearly knocking the blonde to the floor in the process. Standing up straight, Allie Harding shook her head, her honey coloured hair which had been pulled into loose curls tumbling about her shoulders as she did so.
"It's not just a dress," she sighed. "It's a statement, remember?"
"Oh come on, Allie Cat," Lara rolled her eyes, picking up a bottle of perfume and spritzing some onto her neck. "You know that's not…"
"Forget it," Allie shook her head. "How do I look?"
Lara stared at her friend for a long moment, her heart breaking when she saw the unhappiness behind her smile, a smile that anyone else bar Lara herself would see and think nothing of.
"You look gorgeous," she whispered, smoothing some hair back from her face.
Allie nodded, looking down at her hands and closing her eyes for a moment, willing the tears away. Why was this always so hard?
"Ok come on," Lara tipped her chin up. "No one with an arse that good should look so miserable,"
Allie laughed and squeezed her hand, casting a glance back into the mirror and wondering if it was too low cut at the back.
"Don't you dare," Lara warned her. "You look hot, now come on, its already 8.45 and you're still sober,"
"Well then," Allie smiled, linking her arm through Lara's and tugging her towards the door. "Let's see if we can't fix that, shall we?"
"Bollocks,"
"No, I'm serious, if you just think about it…"
"Look, I'm sorry I don't mean to offend given we've only just met but are you aware of how much shit you're talking?"
Pete Dunham laughed as Harry Harding downed his fifth glass of JD and coke and pointed at him venomously.
"There is no fucking way that Batman could ever and I mean ever kick Superman's arse."
"You're not looking at the big picture," Pete shook his head. "Batman has a car, he's got weapons…"
"Superman can fly," Harry shouted. "Without the power of bats…that's fucking talent,"
"Yeah but put some green rock near him and he turns into a right little bitch," Pete snorted. "And if we're going on whose cooler, how can you fault the bat costume?"
"Its got nipples on it," Harry pointed out. "I do not in any situation need to see Batman's nipples. When was the last time you saw Clark Kent looking anything but suave?"
"He wears tights," Pete shrugged. "If that doesn't scream out gay boy to you then…"
"Hey, you made it!"
The soft voice broke through their conversation and Pete turned to look at Lara, his smile widening.
"Alright, red?" he smirked.
"Not bad," she patted his arm. "Loving the suit by the way,"
"Thought I'd make an effort," he laughed. "Cheers for the invite," he picked up a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and took a sip. "Your fiancé doesn't do things by half, does he?"
Lara frowned at him, her eyes narrowing as she met his.
"My what?"
"Your fiancé," Pete gestured to where Will was stood boring the crap out of Steve.
Lara looked at him for a moment and then burst out laughing, shaking her head and wiping a tear from her eye.
"Oh God," she snorted. "That's….no, Will isn't my fiancé,"
"Oh," Pete cringed. "Sorry, I just…after this afternoon, I thought that…I mean you've got the ring and stuff so…"
"Oh this crappy thing?" she held up her engagement hand and rolled her eyes. "Some jackass gave this to me a couple of weeks ago, I only said yes because I felt sorry for him."
"Ouch," Harry gasped, clutching his chest. "Your dry sense of humour is just…ouch,"
Pete looked back and forth between the pair and felt his heart drop. Lara and Harry were engaged. Whatever had happened, in this world, Harry had had the chance to do what he never could in normality: he'd proposed to the woman he loved.
"You two?" Pete laughed.
"I know," Lara smiled tightly, taking Harry's glass and sipping from it. "I could do better, right?"
"Congratulations," Pete shook Harry's hand warmly. "I'm really happy for you,"
"Yeah well, if it goes tits up we know who to blame," Harry narrowed his eyes at scanned the crowd. "Where is the little bugger?"
"Stressing over her dress again," Lara rolled her eyes. "You're her big brother, I don't see why you won't do the right thing and beat the shit out of him,"
"Because she loves him," Harry shrugged.
"No she doesn't!" Lara snapped. "And you know it, how the hell could anyone, least of all Allie love a prick like him?"
At the mention of her name, Pete stopped, his hold on his glass loosening and allowing it to drop to the floor with a loud smash.
"Fuck," he muttered, stepping away from the rapidly spreading puddle of whiskey.
"Bloody hell, are you ok?" Lara asked him urgently.
"What, uh…yeah," Pete nodded. "I'm fine, I just…"
"Ladies and gentlemen," Will shouted, tapping a knife against his glass and pulling the crowd's attention away from Pete and over to him. "I just wanted to thank you all for coming on behalf of the firm and of course I want to thank someone very special for organising all this,"
"No," Pete whispered, shaking his head. "Please…"
"My beautiful fiancé without whom none of this would have come together," he reached behind him and pulled her forward and Pete felt his entire world slow to a stop.
The golden yellow silk dress she was wearing cascaded down her perfect form, clinging to her hips, her hair was pulled up into a simple, loose fitting bun, the tendrils of hair brushing against her face as she bit her lip nervously.
God he loved it when she did that.
"So here's to the firm and another ten years," Will lifted his glass. "And to my wonderful Alyssa,"
"Cheers," the crowd toasted.
"Twat," Harry cheered, obviously knowing that his voice would get lost in the fray.
"Dickhead!" Lara chimed in, downing her orange juice.
"Hey," Harry smirked. "Go easy on that stuff, you drunk,"
"Ha-ha," the red head rolled her eyes. "It's your bloody fault I'm condemned to drinking juice all night,"
"Actually, its hers," Harry pointed to her stomach and winked.
Pete turned to them and blinked in surprise, the sudden urge to hug her once again coming over him.
"You're pregnant?" he asked her.
"Apparently so," she patted her stomach. "Trust him to knock me up before we're married,"
"I proposed before I knew I'd knocked you up," Harry shrugged. "I did it out of love,"
"I'll bet," Lara smacked him. "I just hope you're more eloquent when you explain to little Poppy that she was a bastard child,"
Pete suddenly felt as though he needed to sit down, the room was spinning and he was sure he was sweating.
"Poppy?" he whispered.
"Yeah," Lara smiled her hand still on her stomach. "It was Harry's mum's name,"
"I know," Pete nodded.
"Huh?" she frowned, cocking her head and looking at him strangely.
"Oh um, I was talking to his dad earlier," he gestured to Richard who waved at him from the bar.
"Oh shit," Harry groaned. "You're the poor bugger the old man was harassing about rugby?"
"Yeah, um," Pete shook his head and placed his empty glass on the table, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers and pasting a tight smile onto his face. "I'm just gonna go grab some air, its getting' a bit posh in 'ere for my likin',"
Lara laughed, shaking her head and reaching out to pat his arm.
"Yeah, well don't go without saying goodbye alright," she smirked. "Or at the very least leave me your number so I can call you when I get sick of this prat," she gestured to Harry, leaning her back against his chest and smiling when he bent his head down and kissed her shoulder.
"I'm the luckiest man alive, aren't I?" he snorted, rolling his eyes and steering her over to the bar.
Pete watched them for a moment, the way they laughed and made fun of one another, trying to remember if ever in his world had he seen them that happy.
Feeling the room start to spin again, he turned on his heel and made for the back door, not having been lying about needing some air.
This was all starting to get to him, it was like having a shot at being normal again except no one had a clue who he was. His own family, his best mates were talking to him like he was a stranger.
Shaking his head, he pushed through the open doors out onto the patio which had remained the same; the swimming pool was littered with floating candles, much like it had been on his and Allie's wedding reception although he noticed with a slight shudder the lack of toys scattered around. Poppy's arm bands and flip flops weren't there for him to trip over and the swing set he and Harry had spent an entire afternoon building was no longer in sight.
Jogging out onto the colossal lawn, he made his way over to the expanse of woodland, pushing through it and finding the gazebo which he used to escape to when he had a fight with Allie.
Smirking to himself as he recalled that they had done more making up in there than they had fought, the climbed the steps and collapsed down onto the huge bean bag on the floor, turning his head to the side and jumping.
"Fuck," he half shouted, pushing himself back up to his feet and staring down at the wide eyed girl on the floor.
"Right back at you, buddy," the blonde narrowed her eyes. "Jesus, do you always wander around people's gardens on your own? You scared the crap out of me!"
"Allie," Pete breathed, fighting the urge to fall back down and pull him to her. His mind was racing and his body was screaming at him to throw logic out of the window and take her…
"Don't you mean Alyssa?" she snorted, pulling her dress down over her knees.
"You hate being called that," Pete smirked.
She looked up at him, slightly annoyed and shook her head.
"I'm sorry, do I know you?" she squinted. "You're one of Will's friends I take it,"
"Like fuck I am," he snorted without thinking. "That blokes a cu-…"
Seeing her raised eyebrow, he quickly shut his mouth and shoved his hands into his pockets nervously.
"Uh…I mean," he cleared his throat. "I only know 'im through work, your mate Lara invited me earlier."
"Uh-huh," Allie nodded. Was that a smile on her face? Looking at her closely, Pete felt his breath catch when he noted for the first time since seeing her that the make up beneath her eyes was smudged slightly and the crumpled tissue next to her left nothing to his imagination.
"Are you alright?" he asked gently.
"What?" she followed his gaze to the tissue and cursed herself, quickly picking it up and tossing it into her bag. "Oh I'm fine, just a bit of hay fever,"
"In January?" Pete smirked at her.
She glared at him indignantly and Pete Dunham was reminded not for the first time just how sexy this girl was when she was pissed off.
"You never answered my question," she jerked her chin up.
"Which one?" Pete shot back.
"Who are you?" Allie asked him, trying not to let herself think about the fact that annoying or not, this man looked sexy as hell in a suit.
"I guess after scaring the crap out of you, a proper introduction is the last I can do," he walked over to her and held out his hand, feeling smug when she licked her lips. He knew her far too well and he knew what it meant when she did that…
"Pete," he told her. "Pete Dunham,"
"Allie," she half whispered back. "Harding,"
"So it's not Alyssa?" he raised an eyebrow, happy when she laughed.
"He always calls me that," she snorted, still not letting go of his hand. "Its just…force of habit, I guess,"
"And by him you mean…"
"Will," Allie tilted her head back and laughed. "God, I just want this night to be over…"
"That why you're hiding in here?" he asked, leaning on the ledge next to her, careful not to let their arms touch.
"Pretty much," she nodded. "He's in a stop with me anyway, I was supposed to meet him for lunch today to talk about…fucking flowers of all things and I…"
Pete watched her as she started to pace and wondered what had happened that had led her here. Why was it that they had never met?
"You what?" he prompted.
"I cancelled it," she whispered. "For no reason…I just, I didn't want to go." She looked at Pete and shook her head. "How bad is that? I was meant to be arranging my wedding this afternoon and the reason I cancelled it was because I couldn't be bothered, oh my God…I'm a bitch!" she laughed, dropping her head into her hands and falling back down onto the bean bag.
"Oi," Pete frowned, making his way over and kneeling in front of her. "If there's anything I know about you, it's that you're not a bitch, alright?"
Allie looked up at him and blinked at the fresh tears building up in her eyes.
"You don't even know me," she snorted.
"Exactly," he shrugged. "I'm a stranger so I'd tell you the truth, I mean what do I 'ave to lose outta calling you a bitch?"
"Your right eye, maybe?" she joked, coaxing a laugh out of him as well.
"Why are you marrying him?" Pete whispered and she looked up at him in shock.
"What?" she snapped.
"Why are you marrying a bloke that you don't want to be with?" he asked her.
"Ok, we've only just met," she laughed. "And that is the rudest question I have ever been…"
"You're not answering it though, are you?" Pete smirked, letting her stand up.
"Of course I'm not," she hissed. "Why the fuck should I answer to you? You're just some freeloader Lara picked up in a bar,"
"There's no need to be rude, now is there?" Pete grinned at her, knowing he was pissing her off.
"Listen, Pete, was it?" she narrowed her eyes. "It was nice talking to you but I have to get back inside to my fiancé…you know, the man I'm marrying,"
"Still no mention of the L word though," Pete cocked his head. "Interesting,"
"Hey, fuck you," she snapped, catching him off guard as she walked over and jabbed her finger into his chest. "I don't know who you are and I don't care, but do not come into my house and tell me what I'm feeling ok, because its just…rude!"
"Rude?" Pete laughed. "Ouch,"
"Ugh," Allie looked at him in disgust. "Whatever, have a nice night,"
"I will," he grinned down at her. "But first you have to admit that you don't love that guy,"
"I do," she hissed through gritted teeth.
"No, you don't," Pete shook his head.
"And just how are you working that one out, Einstein?" she glared at him.
"Because if you did, and I mean if you really, really did," he lowered his head. "Then there's no way in hell you'd let me do this,"
Without giving her a second to reply, Pete cupped one side of her face and slanted his lips over hers. Fuck, she tasted amazing.
He deepened it instantly, slightly surprised when he felt her tongue moving against his, one of her hands creeping up to clutch at the material of his shirt.
He pulled her closer, losing it slightly as the kiss got more intense, her arms moving up around his neck, his drifting down the expanse of her bare back, needing her to bend her knees so that he could lift her and…
"Oh my God," she breathed, pushing back from him and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
Allie stared at the floor for a long moment and blinked; what the hell was she doing?
"Allie…" Pete started, his words cut off when her hand came up and slapped him hard across the face. It took a few seconds for the shock and the sting to wear off and when it did he turned back to face her, trying to curb the anger in the pit of his stomach.
"Alright, that fuckin' hurt," he snapped.
"Good," she shouted. "Who the hell do you think you are? I don't even…" she shook her head and waved her hands as though trying to make it all disappear. "I want you out of my house, now,"
"What?" he snorted. "You kissed me back or were you so busy trying to get my shirt off that you didn't notice?"
"Ugh," Allie shrieked. "You are such an arsehole!" she reached down and snagged her back off of the floor. "Just get out and don't you even think about coming back here ever again, got it?"
"If that's what you want," Pete met her eyes seriously.
"More than anything in the world," she hit back with a sarcastic smile before shoving past him and walking across the grass back to the house.
What the hell was wrong with her? First she starts cancelling wedding meetings and now she's kissing random men in the garden?
"Night, Allie," he shouted to her, laughing when she flipped him off without turning to face him.
Glancing down at his feet he realised that in her rush she'd let her phone drop out of her bag. Bending down to pick it up, he smirked to himself and shoved it into his pocket.
Ok so wherever he was was totally fucked up but right now that didn't mean anything because in his mind there was no universe out there in which Pete Dunham couldn't make Allie Harding fall in love with him.
So I know its all really wierd but its interesting if nothing else right? :D Plus I had a ton of fun writing the pissy banter between Allie and Pete, believe me when I say there's more of it to come. The next chapter is the last one in this arc and then get ready for some serious drama and by serious I mean if you thought losing Lara was bad...get ready for this....