Near to You

{'cause near to you, I am healing, but it's taking so long}

Chapter Seven: now, when she does it like this, will you do it like that?

His hand reached out, grasping hers, and pulling her body back to his.

"Nathan…" she sighed as she tumbled back on top of him, giggling breathlessly. "I have to go."

He sighed, his hands slipping under the shirt she was wearing, which was actually his. "No, you don't." He tilted his chin upward, capturing her lips with his.

"Mm." She covered his hand with her own, halting its movement as it inched further up her shirt. She gave him her most apologetic puppy-dog eyes as she whispered against his lips, "I really do have to go."

Reluctantly, she sat upright and tugged her (his) shirt down. She smiled as he looked at her with lusty, bleary eyes, noticing that her freshly-washed hair had left his chest and pillow damp. "I got you all wet."

He grinned, tangling his fingers with hers. Never one to pass up the opportunity for innuendo, he suggestively agreed, "Yes, you did. So why don't we do something about it?"

She rolled her eyes, feeling a rush of longing and affection toward him as he kissed her fingers. He was so sexy and sweet that it was insanely tempting to forget about her responsibilities and just stay with him. "I wish," she whispered. "But I have to get to my classroom."

"Not for half an hour."

"I have to go home first. I can't wear your clothes to class."

"You look hot in my clothes," he protested cheekily.

"I think you're biased," she murmured, leaning down to kiss him.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, smoothly shifting their positions so that she was lying with her back pressed against the mattress as he hovered over her. "I'm not biased. You are just that damn beautiful."

Peyton squeezed her eyes closed as he kissed her collarbone and began working his way up her neck. "Nathan," she groaned, "I really do have to do, and you're making it really fucking hard." She sighed, arching her back slightly as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. "Nate." She cupped his chin in her hand, gently forcing him to lift his head and meet her eyes. "You can't give me a hickey," she giggled.

Glancing over at his clock, she sat up at bit, leaning back on her elbows. "Can we talk?"

His eyebrows shot up, but he nodded, sitting upright next to her. "What's up?"

"Nothing serious," she assured him. "I just want…Nathan, I want us to remain between…us."

He ran his hand lightly down her arm. "I'm not understanding."

She told him outright: "I don't want anyone to know about us. That's why I can't have you giving me hickeys, and why I can't wear anything morning-after like where people can see me. Things with you right now are making me so happy…I just want to protect that." She paused. "It's important to me."

Nathan smiled. "Okay."

"Thank you."

"But…what about hickeys that you can hide?"

She giggled, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She leaned in to kiss him one last time. "I have to go." Winking, she grabbed her sweater from the previous night. "Tonight," she promised him with a private grin.

{x}

Peyton swung the door of her classroom open, reaching out and grabbing a fistful of Nathan's shirt and dragging him in. She checked the hallway and, finding no one, closed the door behind him.

"What the hell?" he spluttered. "I thought you didn't want to go public."

"Does this look public to you?"

"Well…no," he admitted, glancing around the empty room. "But –"

"Nate," she sighed, "I've got ten minutes before I have to shove you back into the hallway. Now, we could debate what qualifies to be defined as public for those ten minutes, or…"

"Point taken," he cut her off. He wrapped a strong arm around her waist, pulling her close. "I love it when you're bad."

"You love it, huh?" She smiled knowingly. "Show me how much."

{x}

"Hey –" She stopped short halfway through the door of Nathan's office. "Um, hi," she repeated, resting the majority of her weight on one of her legs as she clung to the doorknob. "Ethan," she said. "Hi."

He smiled. "Hi."

"What are…um…what are you doing here?"

"We were just talking," Nathan shrugged. He smiled warmly at her. "Guy stuff."

As much as she loved to see them bonding, she'd had much different ideas as to what she intended to happen in the next hour. "But, um, E., uh…"

"Yes, um, Peyton?" he asked her teasingly.

She frowned at him. "Don't you have a class?"

"Guest lecturer," he replied easily.

"Ah. I see."

Ethan smirked, clearly trying to keep from laughing. Peyton didn't like him laughing at her expense, but she was glad to see that he wasn't hurt by the reasons she was obviously there to see Nathan.

"Uh, I'm going to go. It's been really good talking to you, Nathan, but it looks like you're …wanted."

Peyton made a face at him as he exited. "Buh-bye." She started shutting the door before he was all the way out. "So, um…you guys were talking?"

Nathan leaned back in his chair. "Yeah."

She scowled at him suspiciously. "About me?"

"Someone's self-absorbed," he chuckled. "And yeah, kind of, I guess. He seems like a really good guy. I'm glad he's been here for you."

All of her frustrations dwindled away. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. If only he wasn't hopelessly head-over-heels for you," he grumbled under his breath.

She grinned, leaning back against the door. "I came here looking for you, didn't I?"

A satisfied smile tugged his lips upward. "Yeah, you did. About that…"

Peyton arched an eyebrow, deciding that it was his turn to work a little harder. "Yeah, about that…time's up."

"But…but…"

"Sorry," she told him, blatantly unapologetic, and slipped out the door.

{x}

She found herself with her back pressed up against the brick wall of one of the school's oldest buildings near the end of the day. Nathan kissed her so fiercely and suddenly that she had to take a moment to absorb the shock before she could respond.

"You're not playing fair," he said breathlessly into her hair and she kissed the curve of his jaw.

"There aren't any rules, Coach," she laughed, winded as well.

"There are always rules, Miss Sawyer."

"I like a little more freedom in my classroom," she replied, lifting her chin defiantly. "And if you have a problem with that, I might just have to give you detention."

"But I have basketball practice!" His eyes twinkled. "Can I do extra credit instead?"

She pretended to think. "Well, I suppose you could write a paper on –" She stopped short, her breath catching in her throat as her knees buckled a bit. "Or that," she gasped out, her eyes closing. "You could do that."

{x}

Nathan's eyes had a familiar mischievous glint as he approached her in the staff room after the final bell. He kept an appropriate, purely platonic distance from her as he said, "Hey, Miss Sawyer."

"Coach Scott," she said evenly, emptying a packet of sugar into her coffee. It was her third cup of the day.

"I was just wondering if I'd be seeing you tonight."

Startled, she accidentally dropped the packet itself into her mug, turning to stare at him with wide eyes. They weren't alone in the room; this was not the time for games. "I…um…excuse me?" she hissed.

He furrowed his brow as though he was entirely innocent. "You know. For basketball practice. I thought we'd arranged to hold our practices at the same time so that your girls can brainstorm some creative cheers for the team."

That was total bullshit; they'd done no such thing. He was testing her, teasing her, and very well. The score was officially even. "Right," she said. "I'm so sorry I forgot." She fished the sugar packet out of her coffee and leaned past him to throw it in the garbage can. "Truce," she whispered pleadingly. He'd scared her and he had the upper hand because of it.

"No problem," he smirked. "We can just do it…some other time."

"No! No, no…tonight's fine." She cleared her throat and tried to think about their schedules. She had an elective painting class in the evenings; he had basketball practice and a phone call with Jamie. "Um…nine o'clock?"

He smiled slowly, leaning close to her as he walked past her and away. His breath against his ear made her shudder delightfully. "That's why there should be rules, babe."

{x}

His voice carried up the stairs and over the sound of the shower spray. "Peyt! It's me!"

She smiled at her bottle of shampoo. "You mean my gorgeous guy? Get up here!" she yelled back.

"You really should lock your doors when you're in the shower," he called as he ascended the stairs.

She pushed the curtain back, poking her head out as he opened the bathroom door. She grinned at the sight of him, flashing her pearly whites. "But then you wouldn't be able to walk in when I'm naked."

Nathan leaned against the doorframe. "As appealing as that is, I'd rather that no one be able to walk in when you're naked."

His protectiveness warmed her heart. Drops of water fell from strands of her hair as she studied him. "You look beat, Nate."

He smiled wearily. "It turns out that the players I kicked off the team for harassing you were my best kids. It's going to take a lot of work to get the rest of them playing at a higher level."

"Oh, Nathan…"

"It's okay; it's worth it. They can't talk to you or any other girl like that."

"Look at you, taking a moral stance," she praised him. "C'mere." When he was close enough, she reached out and lightly grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him closer. She kissed him passionately but softly, wanting to soothe his tired mind and body somehow.

Nathan kissed a droplet of water off her cheek. "You sure bathe a lot," he teased.

"My evening class got messy today," she laughed, nodding toward the pile of paint-splattered clothes she'd kicked aside.

"I'm going to have to thank those kids for getting you out of your clothes," he remarked, leering slightly as he glanced down at her hand on his shirt and added, "You've got me all wet again."

Peyton bit the corner of her lower lip and quirked her eyebrows. "Why don't you get in here so we can do something about that?"

{x}

"I woke up and you weren't there," Nathan pouted playfully as he walked into the kitchen, only partially joking about his disappointment.

Peyton looked up from where she was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the day's newspaper. "Hey. Sorry. You were out cold; I didn't think you'd wake up."

He swung one of the chairs around and straddled it. "It's fine. I just thought you'd left for a minute there."

She stared at him for a moment before covering one of his hands with both of her own. "Baby, this is my house."

Nathan closed his eyes and sighed. "Right. I just get confused. The layout is the same in all the faculty houses."

She nodded understandingly. "Do you miss it? Tree Hill. Home."

Shrugging, he replied, "I grew up there. Like you said, it's home. But I needed a fresh start. I wanted one."

"Yeah." She knew the feeling.

"What about you, Sawyer? Are you finding the fresh start you wanted here?"

"What? I've been here for years, Nathan."

"Sure…but you're still reading the Life section of the newspaper, searching for news related to Tree Hill."

"Busted," she said softly, and excused herself by adding, "It's habit." She blew out her breath and stood up. Taking his cues from her, Nathan turned in his chair so that she could sit in his lap, carefully trying to avoid hurting any of his sore muscles in any way. She rested her head against his shoulder and doodled idly on his chest with her index finger. "Can this really feel like home to you?"

"I think so. I mean, I'm doing what I love again. That older teacher who talks with a Southern accent kind of reminds me of Whitey. I feel good. Ethan seems like he could be a good friend. And…you're here."

She smiled to herself, cuddling closer to him. "That's what seals the deal for me, too."

Nathan nuzzled her neck and kissed the shell of her ear. "Let's go back to bed."

"I thought you were tired," she accused. "You're insatiable!"

"Are you turning me down?" he asked huskily.

She got to her feet and held her hand out to him.

He grinned. "Didn't think so."

{x}

"…y'know, sane people, especially those who have had psycho stalkers, they lock their doors. Even in cute little east coast prep towns…"

Peyton opened her eyes and squinted immediately. She was confused. She heard a familiar voice, but she couldn't pinpoint it or figure out where it was coming from. Part of her, comfy and half-asleep, didn't even want to bother deciding on answers to those questions.

"Alright, missy, it's time to get up…"

Nathan stirred, his limbs still tangled with hers. "Wha…?" he muttered sleepily. It couldn't have been more than six a.m.

The door of her bedroom swung open before either of them could even process what was happening. "Welcome to your wakeup call, P. Sawyer!" Brooke Davis announced proudly, throwing her arms in the air for added effect.

There was a long moment of silence as all three of them stared at one another, shocked into speechlessness. Brooke's arms fell to her sides as her jaw slowly dropped. She, of course, spoke first.

"Oh. My. God."

A/N: Last chapter's title lyric came from Matt Nathanson's Come On Get Higher, which most of you guessed!