A/N: The response to this story has been great, and I am really inspired with it - pretty much writing non-stop! I'm glad you all seem to like the LP friendship - it's actually really fun to write (and different from my usual fluff and/or angst). Enjoy!!

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They woke the next morning to the harsh sunshine pouring through the windows. She went to move, but her entire back ached and she had a crick in her neck. She was practically laying on top of Lucas, and he stirred when she moved.

"Morning," he said groggily, lifting his head. "Ow."

"I know," she said. She was not a morning person and he knew as much. "Turns out I'm not 17 any more and can't just sleep anywhere."

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. He swung his legs around so he was sitting with his back to her, and he felt her move to sit next to him.

"Thanks...um...Thanks for last night," she said, looking at her hands in her lap.

"You don't need to thank me, Peyton," he insisted. "Get me a cup of coffee and we're even."

She laughed and got up to walk to the kitchen. She opened her cupboard to find the coffee container empty.

"Bad news," she shouted back to him. "I'm out of coffee."

"Out of coffee?" he asked, dumbfounded. "How does that even happen?"

She shot him a look. "Get dressed. I'll buy."

She went back into her bedroom and returned wearing a pair of jeans and a green halter top. Her hair was pulled up and she'd put on a little makeup. He was in jeans and a white tee shirt, sifting through the box of photographs again. When he saw her, he tucked one into his back pocket.

They walked out of her building and onto the street. She was smiling again, and he was relieved. He loved a happy Peyton.

They'd just gotten their coffees and walked back out onto the street when Peyton heard her name. She spun around and recognized the man immediately.

"Hey Jeff," she greeted him with a smile that only she and Lucas knew was insincere.

"Hey," he replied, looking to Lucas, who nodded in the stranger's direction.

"How are you?" she asked. The sooner she asked the question, the sooner the conversation would be over.

"I'm good! Talked to Josh the other day, actually," he said with an ignorant smile. "Yeah, he's down in Mexico right now."

"Oh. Great," she said, faking cheeriness.

"Yeah. Didn't take you long, huh?" he said, gesturing towards Lucas again.

She didn't know what to say. This guy had always been a complete ass, but he had just crossed a line by a mile.

"Actually, Jim, was it?" Lucas asked.

"Jeff."

"Right. Jeff. I don't really see how that's any of your business. So why don't you run along and find someone else to make inappropriate comments to," Lucas finished.

"Whoa, man. I was just pointing it out," Jeff said, raising his hands in his defense.

"OK," Lucas said calmly. "And I'm just telling you to leave."

Jeff looked at Peyton who was looking at Lucas, and turned around to walk away. As soon as he'd rounded the corner, Peyton turned on her heel and started back towards her building. Lucas had to jog to catch up with her.

"Peyton, wait," he pleaded.

"No," she said defiantly.

"I'm sorry," he said desperately. "That guy was an ass!"

She stopped in her tracks. "Yes, Lucas. He's an ass. He's also Joshua's close friend, who's now going to tell Joshua that I'm with someone!"

"So!" Lucas shouted. She turned to face him. "Why do you care what Josh thinks? He left you, Peyton."

She narrowed her eyes and let out a short breath. "Thanks a lot, Luke."

She turned and began walking up the steps to her building with him following silently behind her. He knew he shouldn't have said what he'd said to her, but it was the truth. They rode the elevator in silence for 10 floors, and she unlocked the door to the apartment and threw her keys on the counter before heading to her room and closing the door behind her.

He threw his head back in frustration, more with himself than with her. He pulled the photo from his back pocket and put it in an empty frame he'd seen in a box in the closet the night before. He stood for a minute before walking to the door and tapping gently.

"Peyton, I'm sorry," he said sincerely with his head resting against the door. There was no response from the other side. "I didn't mean for that to sound like it did." Still nothing. "I just...I think that part of letting him go is not caring what he'd think of your choices. Not that I am a choice you made. I just...God, I'm rambling. I don't ramble. I'm an author, for crying out loud. Dammit, Peyton. I'm an idiot. I'm sorry."

She'd been listening from the edge of her bed and chuckling at his little speech. He made it hard to stay mad at him, that's for sure. She walked to the door and pulled it open, to find him standing there with his hands in his pockets and a guilty look on his face.

"I only did that so you'd stop talking," she said with a smirk.

"I'm OK with that," he replied. He extended his arms to her and pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry."

"I got that," she chuckled.

"Come on," he said, gesturing towards the living room.

She put her arm around his waist and they walked to the living room, where he'd placed the framed photo on the coffee table.

"Luke, what's this?" she asked, picking it up and studying it intently.

"I told you I used to watch you," he said with a grin.

In the photo, she was standing outside the gym, leaning against one of the white pillars, and smiling sweetly at the camera, twirling a curl with her finger. In the background, a scrawny blonde boy was walking with his eyes fixed on her.

"I never noticed you in this picture before!" she exclaimed.

"Uh...thanks," he said in mock dejection.

"Thank you," she said sincerely, placing the photo on the mantle.

The two sat and spent their entire day just joking and reminiscing, recalling the times captured in the photos in the box in front of them, and in another box she'd found in the closet. Prom and basketball games, nights at Tric, beach parties. They were all laid out on the table, literally. He pretended to gag at a photo of her and Nathan kissing, and got excited over one of Brooke and Peyton leaning into each other with puckered lips for a kiss that never actually happened.

They came across one of her standing with Nathan, Dan and Deb before one of their formals.

"Sorry," she said, looking at him with a grimace on her face.

"Why?" he asked.

"Just...Dan," she said quietly.

"Dan's dead, Peyton," he explained matter-of-factly. The man had died of heart failure while in prison. Truth is, his heart had failed him long before then.

"I know," she started. "That doesn't change all the terrible things he did when he was alive."

"No, it doesn't," Lucas said. "It does make it easier to sleep at night though."

She looked at his face, and she knew exactly what he was thinking. He was thinking 'I hope I don't end up like him.' She knew she had to stop that train of thought. She remembered the simple words he'd spoken to her that summed up his entire personality to her.

"Do you remember what you said to me Junior year? We'd talked like, twice, I think," she asked.

"No," he said, shaking his head.

"You said that you would erase your dad if it would bring back my mom," she explained. His eyes met hers and she continued. "You're never going to be like him, Luke. You're not."

He exhaled loudly and smiled at her. "Thank you," he said softly.

---

They got ready for bed separately, and she walked back into the living room in her pajamas and leaned against the door frame, watching as he arranged his pillow and blankets for the night.

"Luke," she said quietly, calling his attention to her. He spun around to see her there in her little shorts and tank top. "Why don't you sleep in my room?"

"Peyton..." he started, but she interrupted.

"It's a queen size, and your back can't take the couch," she said with a grin.

"I'm 27, Peyt., not 80," he said with a laugh. "I don't know..."

"Lucas, we're adults," she rationalized. "We used to sleep in the same bed all the time."

He laughed and walked towards her. "Not all the time. Just when you got attacked a couple times."

"You're funny," she said sarcastically as they made their way into the bedroom.

He'd only slept in the room once, before she was with Joshua. It was right after she'd bought the apartment and he visited over night while he was doing promo work for one of his books. It was different now, with new art and linens. It felt strange to him to be in the room she'd shared for so long with another man.

He walked around to the side of the bed she wasn't sitting on, and pulled back the sheets to lay down. He watched as she rubbed lotion on her hands and swung her legs beneath the covers. A whole life that he'd never gotten to live flashed before his eyes. He wondered how Joshua could have given this up. Peyton had been one of his best friends for years, and she didn't deserve this.

She smiled at him and said goodnight before turning off the bedside lamp. They lay in silence for a few minutes until he heard and felt her roll over. He instinctively knew she was staring at him.

"Lucas?" she asked.

"Yeah?"

"You think I'll ever be OK again?" Her tone was serious though her voice wavered as she spoke.

"You will be," he said, reaching out for her and placing a hand on her upper arm. "You're doing great, Peyton."

"I just...I wonder if it's all my fault," she admitted quietly.

"What?" he asked, his voice laced with surprise.

"What if I drove him away or was too much to deal with? What if I wasn't what he thought I was? What if I'm not the right woman for anyone?" she asked. "What if I'm a bad wife?" she finished somberly.

"Peyton," he said forcefully. "You did not do anything wrong. You are an amazing woman and he doesn't deserve that. There is someone out there who will know how damn lucky he is when he has you. He'll hang onto you for dear life because you're everything he wants." He reached out to touch her face and found it wet with tears. "This is not your fault."

"Luke..." she started, but he cut her off.

"It's not your fault, Peyt.," he repeated, and she let out a sob. "It's not your fault."

She closed the space between then and curled into his arms. He once again felt her crying against him and wetting his shirt, but it was a small price to pay to make her feel better. She needed to feel better.