Soon Enough
A/N: You probably all don't, but I find it kind-of funny that I haven't updated since February. I'm SORRY! But at least I'm not giving up on this story – eh? And this update is pretty intense, not gonna lie, so I guess the wait was worth it? No, not really? Ah well, you'll live.
Enjoy!
- Emma
Chapter 13
This One's Gonna Bruise
She doesn't want to be here. Not an ounce of her wants to spend the entire evening talking to a bunch of boring, rich socialites, and B Grade designers. The majority of her wants to scamper upstairs, take a long hot bath, and go to sleep.
A small portion of her wants to get drunk.
But no. Instead she's stuck downstairs, having to make polite small talk with people she doesn't care a shit about.
Brooke blames her mother, really. Though hesitant to the idea of opening a Tree Hill location at first, Lydia had used Brooke's idea as an excuse to throw a party "for" Brooke. She had flown down this morning, surprised her daughter, and told her that there would be a party that very evening to "celebrate" the new opening. She had gotten a little bitchy when Brooke informed her that no, the store was not finished yet (it wasn't even painted it). However, Lydia Davis is never unfazed for long. At 3pm she informed the younger brunette that the party would be held instead, at Brooke's house.
Brooke supposes she should be flattered by her mothers gesture. She was, a little at first. That is, until she realized that she didn't know a single name on the guest list, and she had to practically beg her mother to let her invite Haley, Nathan, Lucas, Mouth, and Skillz.
Haley and Nathan arrived awhile ago, but as Brooke drifts through the living room, she sees them deep in some clearly hysterical conversation with Skillz. She smiles, amused, as she finds Mouth flirting with some six foot blonde model.
Around 8 o'clock Lucas arrives. She catches his eye briefly in the crowded hallway as he hangs up his jacket, waves, flaunts a shy smile, and retreats to the kitchen.
God, she is such a teenager.
--
"I know you." Lucas is pushing his way through the crowded living room when Lydia Davis grabs his arm. He stops, primarily to be polite, although numerous incidents in the past have taught him not to engage himself conversations with Brooke's mother more than necessary.
"Hi Mrs. Davis," he responds as warmly as possible, extending his hand to the middle aged woman.
She looks down at the gesture, and ignores it. "You're Lucas Scott, one of my daughters ill-fated love interests."
Lucas nods and clears his throat. He doesn't know how comfortable he feels that Lydia remembers him from senior year, especially since the one dinner he had with Brooke and her parents when they were home in Tree Hill visiting had been spent primarily in silence.
"You must be so proud of Brooke – I can't believe all she's accomplished."
"With my help," responds Lydia in a cutting tone. There's a short, awkward silence, before she continues. "You know, you were the only serious relationship she's ever been in. You must have given her heart a good beating. Oh, and then after that night you showed up out of the blue in New York? I can't tell you how many days she sulked for after –"
"Lydia." The younger Davis's cool, emotionless tone floats into the picture, and Lucas turns to see Brooke approaching, glass of red wine in her right hand. She's wearing an olive green halter dress that sways when she walks, and her hair hangs down to her shoulders in soft curls.
He turns back to Lydia and feels Brooke's presence next to him.
"Oh, darling, I was just talking to your lovely ex-boyfriend here." Lydia places a hand on her Lucas' shoulder, and then leans in to whisper in a voice that was still completely audible to Brooke. "In my opinion, you're better off without her."
With that, she brushes away from the two of them. And when Lucas looks back to face Brooke, she's already pushing her way through the crowd. Before he can follow her, Haley places his presence in front of him.
"Hey Hales," Lucas says, absentmindedly, searching for Brooke, who seems to have disappeared.
"I saw you talking to Lydia. That must have been lovely," says Haley with a caustic laugh.
Lucas nods, taking the beer she's offered to him. "I've forgotten what a bitch she can be."
"Did she say something to Brooke? Cause she just walked past me and she looked kind-of upset."
"Yeah." He sighs, rubbing his temple between two of his fingers. "I want to go see if she's okay, but I never really know whether or not to get involved."
Haley smiles. "I think that trait has always been both a blessing and a curse. You always get involved, Lucas. That's who you are."
"What, so you're saying I have some sort-of hero complex?" he spits out, defensively, and Haley sighs.
"I didn't mean that. I'm just saying, you're always saving people, and you're good at it. But you're also right – sometimes you get involved when you shouldn't."
He wants to ask her when, when has he gotten involved when he shouldn't have, but by now Haley has flitted off to speak to an old friend.
--
"Can I have a Sex on the Beach, on the rocks, please?" she's got a terrible headache and the excruciatingly boring classical music isn't helping. The bartender gives her a sleazy smile, perhaps imagining her drink order to be some innuendo or pick-up line, but Brooke ignores him and checks her phone.
Just as the bartender slides the drink across the bar, she feels an arm around her waist. Imaging Lucas, she turns around with a smile she can't hide. But instead of being met by gorgeous blue eyes, instead a pair of hazel ones meet her own.
"Miles," she chokes out, surprised, as the shaggy-haired brunette mutters an order to the bartender, who looks thoroughly disappointed that Brooke now has company. "What are you doing here?" she hisses, pushing his hand away.
"Your mother invited me," he smirks, grazing his hand along her hip. "Lovely woman. What, aren't you glad to see me?" The words sound slimy, rolling off her tongue, and Brooke's head is spinning more than ever now.
"Maybe you didn't get the message," she says, pushing him farther away. "But I think the last time we spoke I told you I didn't want you within 3 feet of me ever again."
"C'mon, babe," he replies, unfazed. "You were just in one of your 'moods.' Whatever, I'm past it."
"Well I'm not. And do not call me babe." Her voice has risen now, and Brooke realizes that the room has grown more quiet, as near partygoers begin to listen in on their conversation.
"Don't make a scene, Brooke," he mutters, resting a hand on the small of her back and pulling her close to him. "Just play nice and give me a kiss."
She begins to feel tears of frustration build-up in her eyes, and her knees are starting to shake. She's eternally grateful when she feels another presence at her side, and a cool and collected voice speaking up.
"Can we help you?" Lucas sounds cutting, and Brooke sighs out in relief when Miles releases his grip on her.
"Who the hell are you?" the brunette asks in a pissed tone.
"Funny, I was going to ask you the same question." Lucas sounds on the verge of losing it, and as Brooke steals a glance at the blonde, she sees fire and anger etched in his eyes.
"Oh so you'll fuck him but not me?" asks Miles through a bitter laugh. "Or maybe you decided to stop being such a prude," he spits out.
"Okay, I think it's time for you to go," says Lucas firmly, placing a hand on Miles' shoulder.
"What's going on here?" asks Lydia, who's pushed her way through the now silent crowd. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" is her second question, as she turns to Lucas.
Brooke speaks up finally. "Mom, stay out of this."
"Get your hands off me." Miles pushes Lucas – hard.
Lucas puts his hands in the air. "I'm not going to cause a scene man. Let's go, Brooke," he says in a gentler tone, extending his hand to the younger Davis.
"Whatever. She's not worth it," says Miles, raising his voice. "Hey man – take my advice. She's a tease but a prude. A needy little whore – "
But Miles doesn't finish his sentence, because in the blink of an eye, Lucas's fist connects with his jaw. Mike lets out a yell that corresponds with Lydia's shriek, but soon returns the sentiment by punching Lucas squarely in the eye.
Brooke is frozen in place – that is until Nathan pulls her away from the two men, and grabs Lucas from behind. Skillz has restrained Miles, and the entire room is in an uproar over the scene that has just taken place.
"I want you out of this house!" says Lydia in a shrill voice, pointing to Lucas with a livid glare.
"Him!?" Brooke yells out, pushing her way back to the bar. "He didn't do anything. Get Miles out of here!"
"Don't be stupid, Brooke. We know who started this. Clearly this boy has some sort-of anger management issues. I guess it has to do with growing up in this god-forsaken town with a clearly incompetent mother."
By the time Brooke can turn around to see Lucas' reaction, he's already gone, and she sees him disappearing out of the room. With a rough stare, she turns back to her mother.
"Incompetent mother? Really, Lydia, have you looked in the mirror lately?"
And with that, Brooke is gone too.
--
"That was a stupid thing to do," Brooke says in a soft voice as she enters the living room with an ice pack.
He listens to the tone of her voice from where he sits on the couch, and understands that she doesn't sound angry. She steps smoothly across the dark room, and turns on the standing lamp, flooding the room in light.
She sits down next to him and holds the ice pack over his eye. He can still see through the other eye, though, and, looking at her, he spots concern on her face.
Lucas becomes very consciously aware of how close they are, and how her hand is rested on his knee. He notices the way the light bounces off her hair, tinting the soft waves with a sharp red. Her hair touches the soft, skin of her shoulders, and the green halter dress she's wearing leaves her arms and shoulders bare.
"Thank you," she almost whispers, her hand still holding the ice to his face.
"For what?" he wants the words to come out more nonchalantly than they do, but instead he sounds like an eager schoolboy.
"For being there."
They sit there for a few more seconds. Then Brooke pulls her hand away, laying the ice pack on the table. She doesn't look back at him – just stares at the chipped lining of the coffee table. But then he takes her wrist in his and she flinches, but only slightly.
She looks down at their touching skin, and then finally back at him. He brings a hand to her face, and gently grazes her skin with his fingers.
"You look beautiful."
He expects her to blush, or for her dimples to appear. Instead, she looks surprised. Seconds pass, and she seems to make a decision. She moves s little closer to him, and pauses, their faces inches away.
He can taste her breath already, and doesn't ask himself why she hesitated. Instead, he closes the gap, pressing his lips firmly against hers – lips he hasn't tasted in four and a half years.
Somehow it feels so right, and she brings a hand up to cup his cheek. Her body weight shifts, presses into his harder, and his hand grazes softly up her arm. His tongue enters her mouth, and for a minute, the world falls away.
It seems so strange and new to be kissing her now, and he keeps reminding himself that he lost that ownership of her so long ago. Somehow though, it's happening.
When they finally break the kiss, their foreheads stay rested against each other, and neither of them pull away.
"Who was he?" Lucas finally breathes out, tracing patterns on her bare leg.
Brooke pulls away, and a tear falls down her cheek. "He's just some guy…"
"Come on, Brooke. I know you. You wouldn't be this upset about 'some guy.'"
He's right. He knows her. He knows her better than perhaps anyone, and that's what scares Brooke. It's what's always scared her. Every since that night where she showed up naked in his backseat and he saw her for more than her gorgeous body.
And it just all comes spilling out.
"My mom set us up about a year ago. We went out for a few weeks, and it was fine. And – and then he tried to sleep with me. And…I wouldn't let him." She pauses and her voice begins to shake. "So he started insulting me all the time…b-but my mom wouldn't let me stop seeing him. And finally one night he just got so mad that he pushed me – hard. I fell – s-shattered the coffee table – and that's when I told him to leave."
He knows her better than anyone, and that's why he doesn't ask her anything else. He lets it go, not bothering to ask her why she wouldn't sleep with Miles, or, more importantly, why she lets her mother dictate her life so much.
"Stay here tonight," is all he mumbles, lying a hand across her cheek. "I don't want you to be alone."
Brooke nods. She's exhausted, and despite the fact that she hates it when he has the upper hand – when he's the stronger one in whatever kind of relationship they have – she's insanely grateful that he offered. She picks the ice pack up off the table and is about to retreat into the kitchen to return it to the kitchen. But then she turns back to Lucas, who's watching her with a look of sadness, worry, lust, need, and gentleness.
"I'm always alone, Luke."
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