Hi there! I have to say a massive thank you to everyone who read the first chapter and a special thanks to those who reviewed/favourited/alerted, it really means a lot.
So I'm totally getting carried away in the story of these two, this is headed towards being a disjointed chapter fic.
This chapter is a few years ahead. The title is from a song of the same name by Hurts my newest obsession. Check it out! there are some really gorgeous lyrics that scream NP to me, especially relating to this chapter.
Twenty-Two: Silver Lining.
"Did you seriously hide my clothes again?" Peyton stands at the end of the bed pouting. Her hands are on her naked hips and her skin is still glistening from the shower. She looks gorgeous.
Nathan lazes on the bed, staring back in amusement, "Stay in, come back to bed."
She rolls her eyes at his immaturity even though secretly she loves it. He's twenty-two and still acting the kid. It's a good thing she's around really, to keep him in check.
"I have to go." She says in her most serious tone. It's hard to be serious though when he's being so playful and damn sexy.
He's practically always sexy, that's what you get when you date a ball player Peyton supposes, or at least it is when you date Nathan Scott. It's nearly ten and Peyton has a meeting at eleven. It's a big deal too; she's hoping to use the guy's space as a gallery.
It's her first venture since leaving college and she's terrified.
Nathan's tried to assure her that it doesn't matter; he can support them both on his wage. He's about to sign his contracts to play pro ball for the Charlotte Bobcats so she doesn't need to fret. He's told her she can sketch as a hobby but she doesn't want to do that. He loves that about her.
"Babe, you've got ages." Nathan whines, pulling his own sulky face, "Just five more minutes, then I'll give you your panties."
"Five more minutes and I'll give you a blow to the head." She snaps bluntly, "I need to get ready; this is a huge deal for me."
Nathan flops back down on his pillow, "You're gonna ace it, no question."
"You are unbelievable." She moves to the dresser, grabs the first pair of knickers she sees and begins to step into them.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Nathan calls from the bed, "That is not in the rules of the game! You are not allowed to quit and just grab any old pair from the drawer. They're not sexy! How are you going to nail this without your lucky underwear?"
Her eyes narrow at her boyfriend, "What the hell are you suggesting?"
"That the sexy set I've hidden are lucky! You can't go in those old ones." Nathan explains, he never meant anything else for a second.
"I can and I will." She returns, "I don't have lucky underwear."
Nathan's brow furrows, "But we always have better sex when you wear the black set."
Peyton snorts, "Well maybe someone shouldn't have hidden them then?"
He pulls a face, unimpressed. He's soon distracted by her ass though, no matter what panties she wears, it always looks fantastic. He crawls to the end of the bed and teasingly gives it a little slap.
"Nathan!" She doesn't bother to turn around; she just reaches her hand behind her and catches the side of his head with her swing. "Quit it."
"Can't do that." He smirks. And he really can't.
To her he may be acting like an idiot but really he's just trying to distract her nerves away. He knows what a big deal today is and she hardly slept at all the night before. He didn't either.
He watches as her slender body disappears into a fitted black dress, much to his disappointment. She turns her back to him and he zips her up. He takes his time about it too. Afterwards he presses a kiss into her neck to tell her that he's finished.
"Thanks," She says and begins to hop about, attempting to slip her heels onto her feet. It's never been one of her talents.
Finally she straightens, shoes on, "What do you think?"
"Technically, I'm completely biased." He says truthfully. He'd hire her if she was in sweats.
She sighs through a small smile, "Seriously, Nate, do I look professional? I need him to know I'm not going to host some kind of celebratory frat party there."
Nathan kneels on the bed so that they're almost the same height, "Babe, you look perfect, I'm serious. Professional, organised, business-y. You'll knock 'em dead."
She quirks a smile, when she needs him to be, Nathan is serious and assuring. "Thank you. Now I'm gonna shoot."
He glances to the bedside clock, "You're kind of early."
"I know but I want to be prepared, I want to get some of the pieces out to show him." She says, her nerves leaking out in the most subtle of ways.
He nods, "Okay, I'll walk you out."
Grabbing her purse from the side, he jumps up from the bed and takes her hand. He's still in his boxers but it doesn't matter. He walks them from the bedroom through to the small open plan kitchen and living area when he pauses to grab a bagel.
Her eyes fly at him but he only shrugs, "What?"
She shakes her head, and although she tries to hide it, she smiles her secret smile.
He pulls open the door and stands back for her to walk out before him.
"It's raining." She notes, her eyes lingering over his bare torso.
He holds up a finger indicating for her to wait a second and then produces an umbrella. For her.
She laughs and tries to push him back inside the apartment but he's too strong, "I said I'd walk you out."
Quickly she gives up fighting; she won't beat him on this one anyway.
"You're going to be fantastic." He says straight faced when they reach the car, "I love you."
"I love you too." She smiles weakly and delivers one last kiss to his cheek. Droplets of rain fall from his soaked hair onto her nose and somehow that makes her smile.
…
Nathan's pacing when he finally hears her key click in the lock. She's later than he expected but he doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.
He rushes to the hall where she's slipping her heels from her feet. Her body language tells him everything he needs to know. She goes to hang her coat but Nathan doesn't wait for her to finish, he just wraps his arms around her tightly.
The coat falls to the floor as her arms reach around his back. Her head falls onto his perfectly placed shoulder.
"I'm sorry." He strokes her curls, "Guy must be an idiot."
She sighs but doesn't say anything.
"Come on." Nathan takes her by the hand and leads her to the kitchen. He sits her at the counter and places a glass in front of her. "Any drink you like."
"Any drink?" She returns, eyebrows raised. He's good at taking her mind from things. "Okay, root beer float."
He smiles and shakes his head, he knew she'd pick root beer float. He takes the awaiting bottle from the refrigerator and a carton of ice-cream from the freezer.
Peyton sets her chin on her hands and watches him measure her preferred portions, "It smells good in here."
"I made lunch." He offers, throwing his hand back at the Mexican feast awaiting.
"My favourite." She notes, pleased that she has Nathan to come home to.
He grins and pops a straw into the frothy topped drink, "Hungry?"
"Ravished." She laughs. He didn't need to ask, they're both hungry most of the time.
He begins to plate up, tilting his gaze to her slightly to analyse her mood, "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really." She takes another sip of her drink, "There's not much to say."
Nathan nods, placing her plate in front of her. He then rounds the counter and slips his arms around her waist, "His loss."
She forces a smile.
"I really shouldn't have hidden that lucky underwear should I?" He shakes his head.
She laughs at him and he's relieved to hear the beautiful sound.
Peyton's sketching when she takes the call.
She's at their apartment due to the fact that she still hasn't found herself a studio or a gallery. She tells herself that as soon as she gets studio space it will be easier to secure a gallery; it will look more professional. She doesn't want to rent a studio until Nathan's first pay check though.
So for that reason, she's still in the disorder of the second bedroom when she gets the call.
She nearly doesn't hear her phone. She has a habit of playing her music far too loud. It's only by chance that she sees the screen of her cell flashing. She frowns at the unrecognised number but answers in case it's someone calling about space for her gallery.
"Peyton Sawyer?" It's a female voice, which for some reason makes Peyton's heart jump a little. She's been dealing with corporate men. This voice is gentle, kind even.
"Speaking." She quickly moves across the room to shut off her music.
"Miss Sawyer, you're listed as Nathan Scott's emergency contact." The woman says softly.
All blood drains from Peyton's face and she freezes with shock and fear.
"Miss Sawyer?" The woman calls down the line.
"Peyton." She manages a whisper, "Please call me Peyton."
Miss Sawyer sounds serious and she can't cope with serious, not when it comes to Nathan.
"Okay, Peyton." The woman speaks slowly, "I'm afraid that Nathan was involved in a vehicle collision earlier, can you get to County Hospital?"
Peyton feels her heart begin to hammer crazily against her chest, "Is he okay?"
Her voice is small and weak, not like her at all.
"His condition is serious but stable." The woman says, "Can you get to the hospital?"
"Yes, yes, I'm coming." Peyton assures her urgently before hanging up.
She rushes from the bedroom and grabs her purse that's luckily hanging in the hall. She almost never remembers to hang her purse on the hook. It's usually thrown down on the couch or the kitchen counter.
She digs desperately for her keys as she skids out of the house. She's in an old pair of jeans and one of Nathan's shirts she wears to paint in. Fortunately she's wearing her sneakers after having gone to the store earlier for milk. She doesn't think she would have stopped to put them on otherwise.
Even though she's just heard that Nathan's been in a car accident, she still drives like a maniac. She's unstable and can't stop the flood of tears from obscuring her vision. It's a miracle that she makes it to the hospital without being in a collision herself.
She runs to the front desk. She can't remember running anywhere in years.
"Nathan Scott."
The clerk looks at her questionably.
"Peyton Sawyer. My boyfriend, Nathan Scott, he was in a car accident." She manages to choke out between sobs.
"If you'd take a seat, someone will call you through." He says in a dull tone.
She looks to him desperately but he just continues on with his paperwork. Sighing slightly, she does as she's told. She figures its best she takes a few minutes to compose herself anyway. She'll be no help to Nathan if she's a blubbering mess. Which she is.
Somehow, she manages to locate a compact in her purse. She wipes the tears away and fixes her mascara. She takes a deep breath and sets her face.
She needs to be calm and in control. It's what he'd do for her and it's what she's going to do for him. Inside she's completely falling apart but she won't show him that. She can't. He's going to need her to be strong for the both of them.
It seems an eternity that she waits for someone to call her through but it gives her time to perfect her game face.
"Hi, I'm Julia, we spoke on the phone." The nurse, says kindly.
"I'm Peyton, hi." She says in response, "How is he?"
"He's doing well, he's stable. He hit his head in the crash but it looks like it's just some bruising and a slight concussion." Julia reels as they enter the labyrinth of corridors.
Peyton lets out a small sigh of relief, "That's good, that's good."
"In the impact he also cracked a few ribs but they will heal with time." Julia continues to which Peyton nods, thankful that his injuries are all things that can be fixed.
Julia pauses when she reaches the door to what Peyton suspects to be Nathan's room.
"Nathan sustained one other injury in the accident." She looks into Peyton's fretful eyes and takes a deep breath, "It's common in such incidents that when the driver sees the possibility of a collision they will press down hard on the brake pedal in an attempt to prevent an accident. This is what Nathan did."
"I don't understand." Peyton says, wide eyed.
"When the cars hit each other, the force of the impact is generally taken in the ankle and leg that is tensed for braking." Julian explains.
Peyton brings a hand to her mouth and feels the onset of tears once more, "Oh God."
"Nathan suffered a dislocation and serious fracture to his ankle." Julia finishes.
Peyton looks to the ceiling, trying to put the tears at bay. She knows this is bad news for Nathan. He's about to sign his contracts, he's about to make his start in the NBA. This is going to bring it all crashing down.
"How is he?" Peyton asks. It's clear that she's no longer asking about his physical condition.
"He's pretty distressed." Julia gives a weak smile, "Are you ready to go in?"
Peyton says she is but really she's not. In reality she'd like some time to process what she's been told. She knows though that on the other side of the door Nathan's suffering through the same thing only a thousand times worse.
Julia pushes the door open slowly and Peyton's eyes fall instantly on her boy.
He looks broken. His face is dark and sad.
It hurts her heart to see him like it. She notes his elevated leg and her stomach sinks to the floor.
She rushes to the bed and takes his hand in her own, cautious of the tubes and lines snaking from his hand and chest, "Nathan, I'm here, I'm here now, okay?"
He turns to face her, his movement slow and pained. His cool sapphire orbs are lost and afraid. She runs her fingers delicately along his hairline, careful to avoid the angry bruising along his left temple.
"I was so scared." She whispers, "I'm so glad you're okay."
"My ankle, Peyt." His voice is strangled and afraid.
She kisses him lightly on the cheek, "It's okay, we'll get there, okay? We'll do whatever it takes. I'm going to get you the best doctor there is."
"What if," He pauses and closes his eyes momentarily. Peyton can see that behind those closed eyes, he's suffering more pain than the doctors could ever realise.
"No." She says firmly, "No what ifs. I'm going to get you to the NBA whatever happens, I promise you."
He opens his eyes and Peyton can see the tears building. Nathan never cries.
"Peyt," He swallows thickly, "It might not happen, I know that."
"No you don't! You don't, okay?" Her voice is shaky but determined, "Don't you dare give up on me, Nathan Scott. We'll get you there."
For that, he loves her more than he thought possible. Their whole future plans have just fallen down around them but she doesn't see it as a problem, more a hurdle.
Someone brings a chair over for Peyton but she chooses instead to settle on the bed besides Nathan. She's wary of his cracked ribs and aching body but she has to hold him somehow. Sitting next to him and holding his hand won't do.
She casts her eyes from his head to his feet. There are cuts and bruises trailing the length of his body, a particularly angry stream down his left torso. Then there's also his ankle, strapped into a support. It looks excruciatingly painful.
It looks bad. It all looks bad.
"Does it hurt?" She asks softly, stroking his torso lightly in an attempt to comfort him.
He swallows thickly and settles his deep sapphire orbs on her fretful emeralds, "Not so much now."
He lifts his hand slowly to pull her baggy shirt back over her bare shoulders. It must have fallen down at some point during her rush to his bedside.
She looks to him threateningly, "Don't move."
Gently she places his hand back on the bed. She doesn't want him to make any unnecessary movements. She's there now for anything he needs.
She looks again into his striking eyes, "Was it scary?"
He knows exactly what she's doing. Distraction. They both use it in situations like these. He's definitely better at it tactically but she has the advantage that she can distract him by merely walking into the room.
"It was quick." He tells her. He thinks about his words. He knows that whatever he says she's going to link to her Mom's crash. He doesn't want her to know about the terror and the heart stopping fear. "It happened in a flash."
She nods somewhat serenely and he knows that he's done his job.
"Do you want me to call anyone?" She asks lightly. His parents are a delicate subject.
"No." He frowns deeply, "Not yet. I need to know everything before Dan barrels in."
Peyton can't quite place when it was that Nathan started to call his Dad by his first name but he hardly ever uses the affectionate term any more.
"I'll handle him." She assures him.
"Still, not yet." Nathan says, "I've got you and that's all I need."
…
Peyton listens as Nathan huffs and sighs through the night, unable to rest easy and sleep. She tries to soothe him by massaging his shoulders and kissing his skin but he finds it impossible to drift off. She's sure he hasn't had a decent thirty minutes sleep since returning from the hospital two days ago.
"Nate." She whispers to him.
In response he just strokes her hair. He's all too familiar with her adorable habit of muttering words in her sleep.
"Nathan, how can I help you sleep?" She whispers, shuffling onto her side.
The moonlight from the window shines over his eyes as they move towards his girlfriend, surprised to see her awake.
"You should sleep." He tells her.
"And just how am I supposed to do that when you're so restless?" She puts to him, leaning up on her elbows so that she's in the position to gaze down at him.
Reaching up he laces a finger through one of her tumbling curls, "I'm keeping you awake."
She shakes her head purposefully, "No, I can't sleep when I know you're worrying."
He hitches his eyebrows at her perceptiveness, "It's nothing."
"Yes, it is." Her wide beautiful eyes roll to him, "Please don't keep anything from me, Nate. I hate to see you hurting."
His breath catches in his throat, "I can't help from thinking about what I'll do if I don't make it to the NBA – because I might not."
"You don't need to worry about that." She tries to assure him, "It's early days, you can't plan for an uncertain future, those plans will only fall through."
A short bitter laugh fills the room, "Like planning to play basketball and those plans falling through after smashing my ankle up?"
"No." Her voice is firm and sure. She reaches for the light and snaps it on temporarily blinding them both, "That wasn't a plan. That was a dream. They're very different."
"Jeez, that light!" He moans.
"I know, I'm sorry!" She crawls to the end of the bed and grasps blindly for a discarded item of clothing to throw over the dazzling brightness.
They both sigh in relief when they get their sight back.
"Plans are different from dreams." Peyton says to re-enforce her point. She's sat on top of the quilt in just her tiny vest and shorts. "Dreams are essential, without them we'd have nothing to aim for and nothing to fight for. We have that okay? As soon as you start making back-up plans you risk falling into them for the sake of an easy life."
"Maybe it would be an easier life." Nathan reasons, "Easier for me and easier for you."
Peyton turns her head slightly to shield him from the tears building in her eyes. One of the things that she's always loved about Nathan is his fight and his fire. She cannot stand to see him losing that.
"I don't want easy." She says firmly. "I want a gallery and a boyfriend who earns money playing the game he loves. And if I have to fight like hell to get there then I will. It'll make the struggle and the pain worth enduring. Rewards don't come for free."
Nathan stares on in admiration. Her face is determined and her eyes are shining in the way that he loves. Behind her the light of the bedside light creates a halo effect around her head. He thinks that she may just be his angel. Even though he's losing all and any optimism about his dream to play, she's refusing to let go.
"This is just a glitch." She says, rising from the bed and heading into the living room, "Just a glitch."
Nathan sighs heavily. He knows that he's piling everything onto Peyton and he hates himself for it. He's being pessimistic and negative whilst she's trying to keep them afloat. She's giving it everything she has too, he knows. He's sure that a part of her just wants to run away and cry for all of the dreams falling at their feet. But she hasn't. She's loyally stood by his side and is keeping his dream alive for him.
She returns to the bedroom a few moments later when he's still wrestling with himself.
She pads over to him, a tumbler of water in one hand and a couple of pills in the other.
"They'll help you sleep." She tells him. He takes her offering without a word.
Careful not to disturb his injuries, she climbs into bed beside him.
"Thank you." Nathan says as she snaps off the light.
She nods and curls up next to him. A few minutes later she's already snoring softly.
Nathan sighs, pleased that she's finally resting. He knows that all the while he was lying with worry she was there worrying over him too.
She shifts subtly in her slumber and mumbles softly, "I love you, Nathan."
That's just what he needs to hear.
…
Peyton flurries into the apartment, throwing her keys down haphazardly and dropping her purse on the floor.
"Nathan?" She calls, "Nate!"
She hears a gruff noise from the lounge where she finds him struggling to stand from the couch.
"Hey, let me help you." She says quickly and rushes to him, hands outstretched.
"I can do it." He tells her irritably. He shifts his crutches slightly so that he's turned away from her.
She steps back in understanding, "I know you can."
The fight's been harder than truthfully either of them expected. It's tested them, both as individuals and as a couple.
As well as hospital appointments and therapy they've had to cope with the emotional strain which has proven to be the most challenging part.
Nathan's always been the strongest and most capable of people, it's been a tough blow for him to have to rely so heavily on others. He hates that while he's practically housebound, Peyton's always watching out for him. It's only because she's concerned, he knows and appreciates that but it doesn't make it easier. From a very young age he's always been independent, it's testing to now have that luxury stripped away.
The situation hurts Peyton in similar ways; to see her hero struggling desperately almost breaks her heart. Due to the fact that her temporary studio is in the second bedroom of their apartment, she's always with him. She likes and hates it all at the same time. It's nice that she never has to worry if he's okay but it's simultaneously tiring to constantly watch over him. She definitely babied him during those first few weeks. She didn't mean to but she couldn't help herself. He was hurt and grappling with the situation.
A few weeks down the line, Peyton's now learnt that he has to work through this his way. As he continues to try and reach his unsteady feet, she steps back and goes to make them both a drink. If he doesn't want her help then he won't want her to stand and watch him struggle either. She respects that.
He hobbles to the counter just as she's setting the drinks down. He lets her take his crutches and rest them against the side as he heaves himself onto a bar stool.
"Thanks." He says, nodding towards the drink.
She shrugs away the thanks and turns to him, eyes shining. He smiles softly at the sight; it's been a while since he's seen her incredible green eyes at their usual magnificence.
"Guess what?" She's practically bouncing with happiness which in turn makes Nathan happy.
It's been a tough few weeks; happiness hasn't been around for a while. It's been all doom and bad news with the briefest flashes of hope.
"I got a job today!" She reveals, unable to contain herself any longer.
Nathan's surprised and his face doesn't hide it, "A job? You mean you got a gallery?"
It's been her dream since college to have her gallery, he's quite sure that she's never wanted to do anything else.
She's always been artistic. He remembers that she was sketching the first time he ever saw her, back when they were five years old. Since that day her talent's only grown. She's a master of all styles and instruments. He'll always favour her inky black illustrations but really she's amazing whatever she creates.
At Duke, when he was playing ball, she studied the history of art whilst perfecting every angle of her work. He's sure that it was then that she really fell in love with the idea of getting a gallery. And he's always supported that wish – not because she's done the same for him – but because he truly believes in her ability.
Peyton's lips purse at the mention of her dream, "No, I got a job, not a gallery."
She watches as his brow furrows and the excited expression fades away.
"The gallery will come." She says firmly, "But for now, I've got a job as a secretary."
He stares to her, dumbfounded. She isn't secretary material.
"Nathan, could you at least pretend to look a little pleased for me?" She requests a little sadly.
He shakes his head, "You don't have to do this. You shouldn't have to do this; I can call in a loan from my paren-,"
"No, no way." She puts her foot down, "I'm twenty-two years old and I'm more than capable of earning a living."
"Are things that bad?" He asks tentatively. Peyton handles the bills and the finances, she's always been better with figures than him. Now he's regretting the fact that he never so much as asks how they're doing for money.
She looks down and he knows instantly that things are bad.
"We're okay." She lies through her smiling teeth.
They're not okay. They can't be. He can tell from the look in her eye. The look says that she's disappointed in herself. Which of course is ridiculous.
Nathan sighs at the realisation. His jaw sets and his stare falls to the floor.
It's his fault. Maybe not directly but he should have been paying more attention to things like money, he's never exactly been one to worry about it before.
"Hey," She rounds the counter and takes his chin in her hand, "Me working isn't a bad thing. It's a good thing. It'll be good for both of us to not be in each other's way. I get in your way when you're doing your exercises and you get in mine when I'm trying to paint."
Nathan's not convinced that this could ever be a good thing. He hates the idea of her having to work a monotonous job to support them. It's his duty to do that, not hers.
"Would you cheer up, already?" She demands bluntly in a typical Peyton fashion.
"This isn't the way it's supposed to be." He says glumly, glaring down at his heavy ankle cast.
She smiles softly, "But it's the way it is."
That depresses the hell out of him.
She pouts a little which he finds both irritating and adorable "I'll wear slutty secretary outfits if it'll make you feel better."
The strangest thing is that it doesn't make him feel better at all. If anything it makes him feel worse.
Her hands fall to his broad shoulders and her whole body seems to slump dejectedly, "It's just a stopgap. I can still sketch and paint; it's not the end of the world. You focus on getting back to fitness and I'll worry about the numbers."
He has never felt like less of a man than he does in that moment. Even when he was stuck in the hospital and was relying on her to help with the most menial of tasks, he felt more of a man than he does now.
He reaches up and tucks one of her soft blonde curls behind her ear and then strokes his hand down her cheek, resting his finger over her lips. She still takes his breath away with her beauty, every single day.
His hand moves to her chest, above her heart. He feels it beating furiously beneath his skin. He's sure that her heart is the most beautiful piece of her. It's her heart that he fell for, truly. She's selfless and it's the most incredible quality.
She leans down and kisses him softly and then kisses him again, "I love you, and so don't you dare try to talk me out of it. I know you'd do the same for me."
And he would. In a heartbeat. He'd move the world for her if he had to. That doesn't stop him hating the fact that she's making such sacrifices for him though.
…
"Ten more." Peyton demands, looking down at him with a determined stare.
Nathan sighs; when he'd first suggested that she come to the gym with him whilst he trained he hadn't expected for her to take it so seriously. He'd assumed that she'd sit in the café listening to her i-pod or something. He should have learnt a long time ago to never underestimate Peyton Sawyer though.
His training sessions are at six in the evening, by which time she's already worked an eight hour day. The last thing he thought she'd want to do after that is train with him.
"Come on, Baby, ten more." She repeats. She's taken to being his personal trainer and she trains him damn hard.
She raises an eyebrow as though questioning whether he's got it in him for ten more leg presses. She knows as well as he does that he can't back away from a challenge.
He smirks and begins the torture, grunting through the pain. It hurts but he has to fight it. He won't make his dream by sitting back and waiting for it to come to him. It doesn't work like that. Dreams don't come easy.
"Both feet." She snaps to ensure that he's not just relying on his good leg to pull him through.
He wipes the sweat from his brow when he finishes, "Happy?"
She smiles, "I think so. You're improving, I can see it every day."
She offers her hand and he rises to his feet, pulling her into a hug as he does so. He thinks she may be the best trainer ever.
"Ew, you're disgusting!" She moans, wrinkling her nose, "You're sweating all over my blouse."
"Ah, I never liked that blouse." He laughs. He really does hate that blouse, it's everything that Peyton's not; corporate and ordinary. "It'll look much better off."
In response she whacks him around the head, "No way are we doing anything at the gym!"
"Spoilsport." He teases, grabbing his towel from the side and heading towards the locker room.
"Hey, Hotshot." She calls after him. He loves when she uses that nickname. She's biting down on her lower lip and staring at him through lust filled eyes, "Don't bother showering."
He grins and sends her a wink. He loves his girlfriend so much sometimes.
Peyton hates her job. She hates the work. She hates the hours. She hates her boss. There's not one single thing she can say she likes about it. Not one.
It's the reason that Friday evening has quickly become her favourite time of the week. Not only does her working week end on a Friday night, but Nathan doesn't train on a Friday. They always spend the evening together, usually just wrapped in each other's arms eating takeout but she wouldn't have it any other way.
As soon as she enters the apartment she kicks her shoes from her feet. She's looking forward to resting her aching soles in a pair of cosy bed socks and enjoying Friday night with her boyfriend.
"Babe, hey!"
Nathan greets her in the hallway. There's something strange about the action that puts Peyton on edge.
"Hi," Her tone is drawn out and her brow furrowed, "What's going on?"
"Nothing's going on!" He's a little too quick to assure her and his voice is fast paced and nervy, "Well, I was thinking I'd take you out tonight?"
Peyton eyes him suspiciously. They don't really have the money to go out and she'd been looking forward to their night in.
"Come on; let me take my girl out." He tries to persuade her with the assistance of his best puppy dog eyes.
Not once has she ever been able to say no to that look he's giving her. Her lips twist and he smiles. He knows that he's won.
"I was looking forward to not wearing heels tonight." She sighs before Nathan scoops her up and spins her in his arms.
"I'll carry you!" He offers as she laughs and kicks at him.
Honestly she has no idea what has gotten into him. She suspects that maybe he's going a little mad from being stuck in the apartment all day with no one for company. She knows that it would drive her insane. It's not really fair for her to shoot down his idea.
As Nathan sets her back on the ground he delivers a soft but meaningful kiss to her lips, "You could wear flats."
She laughs; he's desperate to go out. "You like my legs in heels."
Without warning he kisses her again, "I like your legs whatever, as long as they're walking next to mine."
"They'll always be walking next to yours." She assures him, wrapping her long arms around his broad muscular shoulders.
Beneath her hold, he begins to fidget.
"What is with you?" She demands. He's hiding something, she's sure of it.
"Nothing, nothing," His face breaks into a wide smile, "I made reservations, we should get moving."
Peyton rolls her eyes as he twists her around and pushes her towards the bedroom.
"I've run you a bath, candles, smelly stuff, a magazine, everything, okay?" He gushes, indicating towards the en-suite.
She looks to him amused and overwhelmed. He's being incredibly sweet but she feels as though they're on some kind of high speed challenge, "Would you relax already? You're putting me on edge."
"I'm sorry." He says immediately, "Go and unwind, I'll get your clothes sorted."
"You'll what?" She throws her hands up, "Nate, what kind of ambush dinner is this?"
He pulls on his pleading eyes again, "Peyt, I just want this to be perfect tonight, okay? Let me pick out my favourite dress of yours, please."
Her curls bounce as she shakes her head and laughs, "Fine, you crazy man. You can sort out my laundry too whilst you're there."
She throws him a suggestive look and steps out of her dress and underwear, leaving it in a heap on the floor. It's a surprise when he doesn't moan and sulk. He just scoops it up and puts it in the laundry basket.
"Who are you?" Peyton frowns entertained by the new version of her boyfriend.
He tries to keep calm. All he wants – for once – is for her to get into the bath for a quick soak and then get dressed so that they can go. Usually he'd love for them to take their sweet time getting ready together. Tonight it's taking everything for him not to be seduced and distracted by her beautiful body stood teasingly in front of him.
When she finally closes the bathroom door he sighs in relief. He's panicking massively about every detail and failing to hide the fact from her. He doesn't know how he expected to hide anything from her; she's always been able to read him.
He works quickly as she bathes. He changes into his best suit and lays out her dress and shoes.
The dress is an utter masterpiece. It's almost flesh tone in colour, a kind of soft pinkish peach with a few scattered sequins. The material is light and floating. It's short too, like all of his favourite dresses of hers. If he didn't know any better he'd have sworn it was designed with her body in mind. It manages to show off all of her best assets, of which she has many.
Firstly and most obviously her gorgeous legs are on full show. The open back design means that Nathan can settle his hand on her warm skin at any opportunity which they both love. It's cut perfectly so that not only is there a nice amount of cleavage on show but it's impossible for her to wear a bra with it. Her ass always looks fantastic under the skin coloured material and somehow it even makes her eyes shine brighter. One day Nathan wants to shake the hand of the designer.
When Peyton emerges from the steamy bathroom, wrapped in a tiny towel, her eyebrow quirks, "Is there an occasion I should have remembered?"
They're not all about the details. On more than one occasion they've both forgotten their anniversary. The way that Nathan's dressed in his most devilishly handsome suit though has her worrying slightly.
"No, I'm just celebrating you." And he is.
"Kinda cheesy." She remarks playfully, pleased that it's not some landmark moment she's bypassed.
He loves that she's playful but they really are in a rush. "I don't want to miss our reservation."
She bites on her lip to refrain from laughing at his desperation, "Got it."
He runs his fingers through his hair telling Peyton that he's nervous about something. She lets it go though, sure that her stubborn boyfriend will reveal nothing no matter how hard she probes.
Nathan watches on painfully as Peyton slowly and sexily moisturises her skin, reapplies her makeup and fixes her hair. He wants to rush her but he can't, he's both transfixed by the show she's giving and enthralled by how she's somehow managing to intensify how beautiful she is.
Every inch of her seems to glitter. Her skin is glistening in the light causing Nathan to nearly abandon his plans and order her to bed. Her makeup is flawless, her eyes lined to accent their sparkling beauty in just the way he likes.
What he likes most though is what she's done with her hair. She used some kind of frightening looking device to erase her curls for the night. In replacement she's wearing the most seductive style he's ever seen. It's shaped around her face beautifully; long sweeps of her golden strands almost cover one eye. Resting on her shoulders it flicks softly in different directions. Really it should be illegal.
"Do I at least get a clue?" She pouts, slinking up to him once she's ready.
"No time for clues." He says firmly. He takes her hand so that she can't dash away for a forgotten item and leads them to the car.
In a gentlemanly act he holds open the door for her. She smiles graciously at his courteous behaviour.
"This is killing me, you know that?" She says as she slips into the passenger seat. She hates surprises.
"Oh, yeah, I know." He cackles. He knows that she hates surprises but he loves the look on her face when the surprise is revealed. It's priceless. He hopes that tonight is going to be the most priceless of all.
He rounds the car and gets in behind the wheel. As he fires up the engine, Peyton goes to switch on the radio. His hand launches to hers, preventing her from switching the dial.
She throws him a look, he knows better than to intervene when it comes to music.
"Let's talk." He suggests, "No radio."
"Okay." She agrees reluctantly, her mind whirring as to what's got him acting so bizarrely.
He's so clearly anxious that she can't help but smile and play along. Whatever's going on – and she really has no clue of what – it's big. He's put a lot of effort into the night. He's even sweating.
She leans over and wipes her finger along his clammy brow, "Please don't panic about whatever this is."
He manages a half-smile which she finds adorable.
"So where are we going, can you tell me that?" She asks.
"Yeah, I guess. The steak place we went to when we first moved here."
Her eyebrows fly skywards. The steak place is expensive, ridiculously expensive. Gorgeous food and a great atmosphere but through the roof prices.
"Nate," She whispers, almost gasping, "Are you-?"
"Sawyer," He reaches a hand across to stroke her bare knee, "Be cool, okay?"
A short beautiful laughs clears her lips. She used to tell him the same thing before every one of his big games.
…
Nathan takes her slender hand in his as she steps from the car. He keeps his eyes on her expression. He watches as it changes to complete wonderment and surprise.
The restaurant is empty. All the tables are pushed aside save for one that's set for just two. The lights are dim and there are candles scattered all around the vast space, including a lit walkway leading from the doors to the table.
"Is this for us?" Peyton questions, completely in awe.
"Sure is, Baby." He kisses her on the lips. When they part they share the same smile. Peyton's eyes are watering a little too.
Nathan offers a squeeze to her hand and leads them inside.
He helps her to her seat and orders champagne. All the while Peyton's eyes are sparkling wildly. He thinks he could stare at her all day, looking as she does.
"You have to tell me what the hell's going on!" She hisses from across the table. She's demanding and threatening him with her eyes.
He just loves her.
"Okay." He clears his throat. "I'll let you into a secret."
She gazes to him curiously. They don't have secrets.
The champagne arrives and they each take a glass in their hand. Nathan takes a cheeky sip to try and settle his nerves.
"Right." Nathan finally lets his waiting wide smile break free, "I got a call this morning. The Bobcats redrafted me. I made it."
She's speechless. Pride wells and instantly chokes her, preventing her from clear speech. Her eyes fill with tears and a ripple of surprised delighted laughter flows from her lips.
"Nathan!" She rises from her seat, rounds the table and pulls him from his to encase him in a bone crashing hug. He feels her tears as they soak his cheek pressed against hers.
"Please don't cry." He requests, he hates to see her tears, even if she's happy.
"I can't help it." She laughs again, "I'm so freaking happy! You did it, Nathan! You really did it!"
"No," He shakes his head, "We did it."
Her slender fingers enclose around his face and all he can see is her beaming smile. "I am so proud of you, Nate. I can't tell you how much."
Nathan coils his arms around her bare back and pulls her towards him, "I couldn't have done this without you. This is to say the smallest thank you for your faith, determination and love. I wouldn't have got here if it wasn't for you."
"Don't, Nate." She warns. "This is your achievement, your night, your dream, okay?"
He smiles (he can't help but not) but doesn't agree.
…
By the time they reach the dessert course, they're both sure that they're contracting some kind of cheek muscle injury. It just can't be possible to smile so widely for so long without doing some kind of injury.
"We could get dessert to go." Peyton suggests through raised seductive eyebrows and her never waning beaming smile.
Nathan feels his sweat breaking again as his hand instinctively falls over his pocket.
"I have one more thing to do before we go." Nathan reveals, taking her hands across the table and linking his fingers through hers.
She looks on expectantly, an exuberant wave of adrenaline coursing through her whole body.
"Peyton," He looks down and smiles, "This day is probably the second greatest of my whole life; coming second only to the day you became my girl."
She smiles at his sweetness.
"Making pro ball and having you to share that with is the most incredible feeling. I'm so excited to finally tell you that you can quit your crappy job and I can start making your dreams come true like you have for me. This is the first day of the rest of our lives, Peyt." His voice is shaking from the sheer excitement.
"It really is." She agrees happily.
"This day wouldn't be what it is without you and I really mean that. You've been the most incredible tower of support, not only through my injury but always. I can't help but wonder what I did in a previous life to deserve a girl like you; it must have been something phenomenal. Truly I'm the luckiest guy in the world."
Peyton shakes her head and gives up the fight against her forceful determined tears.
"I remember the first day that I met you; that day in detention where we hatched the dumbest plan ever to get our own back against our teacher." Nathan pauses as they both laugh, "I love that you're still that same girl. You haven't let anything change you, least of all me. You're stubborn, strong and determined. You're heart stoppingly gorgeous and you have the most beautiful soul. You make me laugh every single day. And you've made me a better man than I ever could've been without you. It's because of you that my dreams have come true, through your utterly selfless gorgeousness. I only hope that I can repay you in the same way because it's the most incredible feeling. You deserve to feel that. You deserve everything and more. I want to give that to you."
Reluctantly he lets go of her hand to reach into his pocket. Inside is a small ring box.
Peyton gasps at the sight, her bright emerald eyes widen further still.
"Peyton Sawyer," Nathan moves to bended knee before her, "Will you do me the greatest honour of making my other dream come true? Will you marry me?"
"Yes! God, of course!" She nearly launches herself at him for a hug but her eyes catch on the ring he's holding out to her. It's the most gorgeous white gold with two small diamonds encasing a blue-green dazzling aquamarine stone.
"Nathan, this is, how did you?" She stumbles over her words, completely stunned.
He smiles and wipes away her tears with the pad of his thumb, "I spoke to your Dad, he wanted you to have this ring."
She nods and beams a watery smile, extending her hand.
Gently he slips Anna Sawyer's ring onto her delicate hand. It's a perfect fit.
"I love you, Peyton." He says, allowing a single tear of his own to escape his eye as they share an indescribable elation.
Peyton notes his tear of joy and gently punches his shoulder, "Scott, be cool, okay?"
They laugh together at the inside joke that is so perfectly them.