Chapter 3
We get home, and I drop Taylor's backpack on my mother's old bed, while giving her a little tour. Lindsay and I lived here for a year, and we spent a quite a bit of time, thought and money to make it a nice home for a professional couple.
After looking around for a bit, Taylor sums it up. "Very nice, squirt." She puckers up her lips, in an amused face, and continues. "I feel a girl's touch. Where is she?"
"She's the latest of my sorry romantic mishaps. Her name in Lindsay."
"I want to hear about it, but first..." "
"I know." I open a door at the bookcase, which contains a reasonably well-furnished bar. "Can I offer you something?"
Taylor smiles. "Let me do the honors." She goes to the kitchen and grabs a bucket of ice and a bottle of Grey Goose from the freezer. "Hm, lets see..." She crushes some ice, puts it in a shaker and adds stuff from different bottles. She doesn't measure anything, and she clearly has a lot of practice doing it. Finally, she closes the shaker, does a little shaking routine with it and pours two scotch glasses of an off-red mixture.
"Here try it."
I pick up the glass and sip. It's dry and tart, with just a hint of sweetness. And it packs a punch. "Wow. It's spectacular, Tay. What is it?"
"It's got different names." She looks into my eyes and her voice turns low and velvety. "When I serve it to a guy, I call it a Blow Job."
She times it to the moment I'm sipping it. Of course, I end up spraying the drink everywhere, and having a coughing attack. She helps me clean up, and looks both a little pleased with herself and a little sorry. "I'm sorry."
I give her a squinty stare. "You're not sorry."
She giggles. "No."
I smile at her. "I think I'm really going to enjoy having you around."
We sit down, sipping our drinks. "So. Who's coming?"
"Lindsay. My runaway bride."
I let the silence stretch, a bit uncertain on how to proceed. I feel close to Taylor, but it's not like we've ever really talked. "C'mon, stud! Do I need pliers?"
I laugh. "All right. The short version. We were together for two years. A month ago we agreed to get hitched..."
"What do you mean "agreed to get hitched"?" She parodies my inflection. "Did you propose?"
"No. I kinda got cornered."
She waves her hands. "That's all right. Girls can be really devious when they want something. Just tell me later. So?"
"She wanted it quick, so two weeks later, we're at the church, and she is all in white. We go through the ceremony, I say "I do" and when it's her turn, she tells me she can't do it and bolts."
"So, two years together, she corners you into proposing, super quick wedding, you say "I do" and she flakes out."
"Right."
"And little sister didn't scratch her eyes out?"
I sigh. "They're friends."
"You mean they're still friends after that? Are you kidding me?"
"Apparently everyone thinks it was my fault, including Haley."
"Your fault. What were you supposed to have done wrong?"
"Wrote a book that suggested I was into someone else."
"Were you into someone else?"
"Some. There's someone I could never really get over. But she won't have anything to do with me."
"You mean the blonde stork?"
"No. That one is pushing herself at me like crazy. And she's the one who spooked Lindsay. I've been trying to tell Lindsay that there's nothing happening between Peyton and I. I was trying to, get us back to where we were before this wedding idiocy."
"You mean, you'd take the stupid cow back after what she did? Not in my watch, squirt."
"We were together for two years! It was good between us."
"You think that means something. Apparently, your Lindsay didn't." She gets up, paces up and down a bit and kneels in front of me, hands on my knees. "Let me paint you a scenario. Imagine a guy, a decent guy, that's been together with your sister, or with Haley, or any girl you care about, for two years. He proposes, gets a rushed wedding organized, waits for the woman to say "I do" then dumps her at the altar. Saying that she was into someone else. After she gives the sincerest proof possible of her devotion, he humiliates her in front of everyone she cares for, breaks her heart in public and runs away. What would you do?"
I stare at her, not knowing what to say. "What would you do, Lucas?"
"I'd break the fucker in half."
"Right answer." She gets up. "You have to stand up for yourself, if nobody else will. You're not trash, Lucas. You're the best guy I've ever known. Any girl would be very lucky to have you. And the runaway cow certainly doesn't deserve you."
I get up, wrap my arms around Taylor, and give her a kiss on top of the head. I snicker a bit. "I'm not sure how much of this I buy, but it's certainly nice to hear. Thanks, gorgeous."
"Anytime."
A minute later, a soft knock on my bedroom door. I walk up to the door and open it. Lindsay, with her huge baby blues looking defensive and sad. Suddenly, I'm very annoyed with her demeanor. I guess Taylor's little speech did make an impression after all. I get out of the way and let her in. I close the door behind her. She stands in the middle of the room, shoulders tense, as if she's ready for conflict.
"Lucas..."
I lift both my hands, palms forward. "Never mind, Linds. Your stuff is in the first two drawers. Leave the key on your way out."
Taylor saunters into the room, sliding her arm around my waist, as I drape my arm around her shoulders and pull her in. She stands on tippy toes, gives me a very proprietary peck in the lips and looks defiantly at Lindsay.
Lindsay stares at her, dumbfounded. "What the.."
"Lindsay, meet Taylor. Haley's sister. Tay, this is Lindsay, my former editor and runaway bride."
Jealousy and anger break down the walls that all my pleading couldn't. She sounds shrill and whiny. "What is this, Luke? This afternoon..."
"That's right, silly girl. You threw away your last chance this afternoon. Now, the bitch is back and the boy is right where he belongs. Get your stuff and get lost."
She flinches from Taylor's acid tone, and looks at me, tears in her eyes. "What's happening Lucas? This isn't you... former editor? Why are you doing this to me?"
She looks so sad and lost I nearly break down and reach for her, but Taylor's arm around my waist grabs tighter. I look at Taylor, and she looks back with a small smile. I speak in a flat tone. "Someone opened my eyes today. Dumping me the way you did. It was your right, of course. But it wasn't nice and it wasn't fair. I never gave you reason to treat me that way. Two years building something that made us both happy, all thrown away over nothing, less than nothing." I pause for a second, before I add. "And please, have Comet assigned to another editor. I'm done working with you."
I turn around to leave the room. She stays, sobbing and mumbling "I'm sorry, I'm sorry... please, Lucas. I'm sorry..."
We hear the door closing from the living room, and I feel like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Taylor looks at me. "You ok?"
"Thanks. It feels good to have some of my self-respect back."
Her smile brightens the room. "You're welcome."
"Were you serious? Can you really stay for a while?"
"I'd like to. Get to know Jamie and really get to know you. I'm gonna need a job, though."
"What kind of job?"
"Waitress, short order cook, bartender and, if I need some fast cash, stripping."
I take a second to digest that. I hate stripping. I find it demeaning and sad. "Do you know my mother owns a club in town? A very nice place called Tric."
"I didn't know that."
"I manage it for her. And I need someone to tend bar. Our previous guy disappeared without giving notice, the jerk. The job is five nights a week. I can pay twelve fifty and hour, and you should make a killing on tips. We're closed Sunday and Monday. The club opens Tuesday through Thursday from eight to one, Friday and Saturday till three. You need to be there at five to take deliveries and help setup."
"Sounds good to me. When do I start?"
"Tuesday, I guess. I'll take you there on Monday to check out the place."
"That's perfect." She gets up and stretches. "I need a shower before bed." She gives me a long saucy look. "Join me?"
I feel myself stirring. I've always been attracted to her. "Thanks for the offer." I get up, grasp her head with both hands and give her a tender kiss in the forehead. She looks at me expectantly. "This is not a rejection, gorgeous. I'm attracted to you, always was. But I couldn't help getting too attached, and I don't need my heart broken yet again when you leave. So, I hope you don't mind. Friends, no benefits."
She is amused and a little disappointed. Much to my surprise, I think I see a little bit of relief in her eyes as well. "Friends, no benefits." The saucy smile returns. "But you'll have to put up with the flirting." She gives me a friendly, well... maybe almost friendly kiss on the lips.
She turns around and walks slowly to her room. "I'd be disappointed otherwise." She stops, her back to me and takes off her t-shirt and her bra. There's a little scorpion right above the jeans. She giggles as she closes the door to her room "Good night, squirt."
Who am I kidding? I'm gonna miss her when she leaves, even without the benefits. "Good night."
I wake up next morning with Taylor straddling me and laughing. "Good morning! Let's go for a run, stud." She's wearing a little black shorts with "slut" across her bottom and gray sports bra and her hair is brushed and tied in a high ponytail. .
"Good morning, gorgeous." I check my clock. It's half past six. "Gimme ten minutes."
"Sure thing. Sports bottles?"
"Leftmost cabinet on top of the sink."
I get to the living room and she is stretching. Nice tan, finely defined muscles, strong. Mouthwatering. "Five miles?"
"That's fine. We can go along the riverside to the old dock and back."
"You set the pace, squirt. Don't be shy. I'm a jogging addict and I'm in top shape."
I laugh a little. "I can see that."
She is right. I set a pace that I know I can take, and, by the time we come back I'm winded and she is barely breathing fast. "You can hit the shower first."
I shower and dress, and when I come back I find her doing katas on the back porch. Fast, very practiced and lethal looking punch-and-kick combinations. Now she is dripping sweat. "What is it?"
"Taekwondo. Started in college after a drunk asshole tried to rape me. "
"You're amazing, you know?"
"Of course I am." She smiles. "You're no slouch either."
I make breakfast while she showers. I go the whole nine yards, with french toast, eggs, bacon, hash browns, freshly squeezed OJ and coffee. She comes out of the shower wearing fresh shorts and a large football jersey. "Hey, if this tastes as good as it smells, I'm dropping my wanton ways and marrying your ass."
"Oh, you'll like it. I'll take the nuptials, but the wanton ways, I'd keep."
She sits down and tastes the french toast. "Smart, smoking hot, rich and a good cook. What else would a girl want?"
"You haven't even seen the best part yet."
She gives me a provocative once over. "Built to scale, I assume. I'm sure you've had no complaints."
"No."
We keep eating in silence, just enjoying the company. Finally, she pushes the empty plate away and serves herself of a third cuppa. "So, tell me everything. I read your book, by the way."
That surprises me. Taylor isn't exactly a bookish type. "Did you like it?"
"A little wordy for my taste, but..." She shakes her head and laughs. "Who am I kidding? I almost burst with pride when I first saw it. I was working at a sports bar down in Texas, and the other girls kept talking about this book. Finally one of them showed it to me and I saw your grinning face on the back cover. I loved it. I read it several times."
"What's written in there is true. The big lie is one omission."
"What?"
"At first, the book was about Nathan and I and fatherhood. Then the romance with Haley, and the deeply conflicted connection of one boy with two girls. When the publishers began editing, they thought the protagonist needed one clear cut romance and a happy ending, not a this conflicted romantic entanglement and an ambiguous ending. So they cut down on Brooke's role in the story. She became a temporary distraction in the star-crossed romance of Lucas and Peyton."
"So, that is the lie."
"Yup. In truth, she had a huge role in the original version. Brooke is the one that got away. I don't think I was ever really in love with Peyton. I loved Lindsay, a lot. But nothing ever hurt as much as Brooke breaking up with me."
"Did you pursue her?"
"I sure did. It was no use. She had an affair with a teacher and, soon afterwards, another boyfriend. Peyton and I were close at that time, and we became closer after Brooke dumped me. This was probably a mistake..."
"Where was little sis?"
"Super pregnant, and totally involved with her own issues."
"Damn. She just let those two bitches take you for a ride."
"Tay..."
"No. I just wish I was here. I guess it went down like in the book. The stork confessed her undying love for you, and at the State final Brooke pushed you to go for her."
"That's right. About a year later I proposed to Peyton, and she turned me down."
"What? Why did you propose?"
"Many reasons. I had spent a year living with Haley, Nathan and Jamie. I wanted a family too. Peyton was growing distant, our long-distance thing was fading, so I was trying to hold onto it. Anyways, she turned me down, and I instantly realized proposing had been a mistake. I broke up with her right then. Now she says that turning me down was a mistake. I think she's delusional."
"She's probably looking for something meaningful she thinks she lost. Your book ended up as a pretty straight love letter, even if that wasn't your intention. And, if I recall, she is a neurotic, self-centered little twerp that can't see anything past her own issues."
I stare at her.. Was she always this accurate and merciless a judge of character? "Damn, Tay."
"Am I wrong?"
"No. You're just a little scary."
She dismisses my comment with a wave of her hand. "So, after that it was the Lindsay bitch."
"There was one night, right after I broke up with Peyton, when it looked like there was something left with Brooke. But, after that night, things changed. You've seen her. Friendly and distant. She will flirt with anyone, because that's who she is, but not me. There's just this wall."
She giggles. "She is still holding a torch for you, squirt. Just like you do for her. What were you two talking yesterday, that got her riled up?"
"It was about Lindsay. I'd just said that Peyton's feelings, even if genuine, didn't excuse her interfering between Lindsay and me."
Taylor's eyes gleam for a moment. "Tell me again, why did she break up with you?"
"After Keith's death I got distant. That's one thing. There was the kiss in the library during the school shooting."
"Right. You had a dying girl in your arms and you kissed her."
"More like she kissed me. It didn't mean a thing."
"It didn't mean anything to you, maybe. Maybe it meant something to the stork. And to Brooke."
"She also said she didn't miss me anymore. That really threw me for a loop. Still does."
"Honestly, that sounds like bullshit." Taylor stops to think a bit. "I bet the stork got in the way, somehow..."
"They did have a huge fight the day before."
That peaks her interest. "Really? About what?"
"I don't know. I asked both of them, and they wouldn't say. Brooke just told me to stay away from Peyton, but gave me no reason. Peyton was my closest friend at the time. I couldn't just stay away without an explanation. She was hurting, just like Brooke was."
Taylor looks thoughtful, but doesn't say anything. We clean up and put dishes and pots away. "Now what, stud?"
"Your sister is supposed to stop by around three with Jamie."
"That's a long ways away. Why don't you go check out the brunette and the baby? I can stick around and do some laundry and some cleaning. This place looks like it could use it."
I look into her eyes, and she answers with a bright-eyed smile. "Really?"
She shrugs. "And why the hell not?"
I park in front of Brooke's beach house. Both the Comet and Brooke's SUV are on the driveway, so I steel myself to face both of them. As I get close to the door, I can hear the baby's tired crying. I don't even bother knocking. It's Tree Hill, and I just let myself in.
Peyton is nowhere to be seen. Brooke is pacing around her living room, with a disconsolate infant in her arms. Brooke also seems on the verge of tears. Chocolate hair in disarray, dead tired, with bags under her eyes, a spotted and wet sleeping gown. Still breathtaking. She doesn't seem surprised to see me. "Broody! She's been crying non-stop for three hours! I've tried everything. Please, help me."
I pick Angie up for her arms and cuddle her. She keeps crying, but a little less frantically. "I brought coffee and muffins, Pretty Girl. Take care of yourself a bit. I got this."
I talk soothing nonsense to the baby as I hold her. In a few minutes she calms down, and, before Brooke returns, she falls asleep, exhausted, in my arms. She comes back with her face washed, her hair combed and tied in a loose ponytail, exercise pants and a loose white top. She sits at the kitchen counter and nibbles at a blueberry muffin. She whispers. "What's the miracle? You some kind of baby whisperer?"
"You were all wound up. They tend to pick up on that. First lesson in baby handling. Slow, calm and soothing."
She looks at Angie, and then at me, frowning. "What are you doing here?"
"I figured you might be in need of a little hand."
"You got that right. Thank you."
I smile. "Anything for you."
Her composure cracks a bit, and, for a second, I see a hurt, lost teenager staring back at me. She lifts her hand, palm facing me. "Don't."
"Sorry."
She shakes her head, dismissing the whole exchange. "I need to finish some sketches for a meeting tomorrow. Can you stay and help?"
"Of course."
She smiles at me, a true smile that reaches her eyes. "Thanks." I'd do anything to keep those smiles coming.
