A/N: Hey guys. First of all, I'm so sorry for taking sooooo long to update. I've been sick for a few weeks, and even through some of the holiday. It's getting better finally. But enough with the excuses and onto more important things like thanking my readers and reviewers. You all rock and I hope this chapter is worth the long wait. I'll try to be better at updating faster (key word, try...lol).
To touch on one of the guest reviews that is not happy with Nathan and Peyton, no I don't mind your opinions. I have no problem with anybody's honest feedback. As I've mentioned before, I take all reviews into consideration so feel free to leave a negative one if that is what you feel. On the flipside, this is definitely a Nathan/Peyton story and they are definitely endgame, as stated in the summary. Thank you for saying I am a good writer. I do appreciate that, just as I appreciate and respect your right to love Naley. I, on the other hand, do not love Naley. Never have and never will, therefore, I really don't think I would be able to write a good Naley story. I don't know, maybe one day I'll give it a shot to see if I'm wrong. But this one is definitely Neyton, as will most of any future stories I write be. Either that or Brathan since I do think they'd be great together too. Sorry about that.
...
Silence filled the kitchen as Nathan and Brooke both scrambled for some way to answer Haley's unexpected question while she glared at them, waiting. The longer the silence, the harder her deep brown eyes got.
"Umm," Brooke stammered. "Your husband, umm..." She took a deep breath and went with the only thing she could come up with. The truth—at least partially. "He thinks I'm trying to fill Peyton's shoes as lady of the house," she said flatly. "And even though I told him I'm not, he apparently is unconvinced and has a problem with me being here."
Nathan's jaw dropped and he had a few choice words for Brooke, but he wisely kept them to himself for the time being. He watched as his wife closed her eyes and shook her head, and then fixed him with the darkest of looks. "God, you just had to say something, didn't you?" she shot out angrily. "You couldn't just leave it alone."
"Haley..." he began, though he wasn't sure what he wanted to say especially since she was usually the one to call people out on their wrongdoings, or what she felt was their wrongdoings.
"When you're done there," she said, referring to the loading of the dishwasher, "I'm ready to go home." She stuffed the two pieces she held into the dishwasher herself. "Sorry Brooke," she told her friend. "My husband's priorities seem to be with Peyton these days."
She shot him another fierce glare and left the room in a huff.
"Thanks a lot," he muttered to the brunette who'd just deliberately put him back into hot water with his wife. His acceptance to watch Sawyer next week had been his life-boat, of sorts, but Brooke had just pulled it from under him so now he was sinking again.
"I had to say something," Brooke hissed. "She knew something was up."
"And you couldn't tell her I said you were getting fat?"
"I guess I'm not as good a liar as you."
"Who says it's a lie?" he couldn't resist remarking. It was a cheap shot, he knew, and probably more than a little childish, not to mention completely untrue—as far as looks went, she looked damned good like she always did—but he couldn't help himself. He was angry and knew that would get under her skin.
She shook her head, appalled by his gall. "You are so unbelievably rude," she seethed. "What the hell happened to the nice guy Haley turned you into? Where did that guy go, Nate?"
He gazed at her in wonder. Where did that guy go? Was he ever real? Did he ever really exist? He wasn't sure anymore.
"You know what? Nevermind," Brooke went on. "I guess you and Peyton just bring out the worst in each other. You always have."
His gaze narrowing now, he shook his head in denial, but couldn't quite seem to deny the accusation verbally. Did they bring out the worst in each other? He considered how they were in high school together. They were a mess.
They were older now, but they were still a mess. Damn it, maybe they did draw each others' flaws out. He certainly didn't feel like a good man lately. Too bad that didn't stop him from wanting her.
He was still deep in thought when Brooke spoke up again.
"Just be glad I went with a half-truth," she said. "Yeah, so next time you feel like being a major ass," she added, a clear warning to her tone, "just remember who's keeping your dirty little secret."
His eyes dropped to the floor and his lips pressed together in an appropriately shameful manner. It was true. She'd kept quiet all this time when she didn't have to. It wasn't for him, she'd said, but even so she'd kept her promise to keep her knowledge to herself.
A sudden urge to apologize to her crept over him, but when he opened his mouth to do just that, she wouldn't have it. It was probably a good thing since he wasn't exactly sure what he wanted to apologize for. He'd meant what he'd said about her role with Lucas and Sawyer, and as for her knowing about his dalliance with Peyton, well, she'd walked in on them unexpectedly. It's not like he'd deliberately put her in the middle.
When Lucas came in the kitchen asking whether she wanted bath or story duty tonight, Nathan forgot about his remorse and concentrated on holding back a sarcastic remark.
"I'll bathe her," Brooke replied, shooting Nathan a scorching look that dared him to say something. "You're way better at story-telling," she said to Lucas though she knew Nathan could guess it was aimed at him.
Oblivious to the tension between Nathan and Brooke, Lucas smiled at her. That smile plenty made up for anything negative Nathan had, and likely still had, to say to her.
"She's actually getting pretty sleepy," Luke told her. "So I can help Nate with this if you wanted to start on the bath now."
She nodded and couldn't leave the kitchen fast enough. She would gladly bathe Sawyer over spending another explosive second with the arrogant, deceitful, dark haired Scott.
Nathan felt much the same way, except now he was alone with Lucas, and being with Lucas was always uncomfortable these days. "I got this," he told his older brother.
"I got it too," Luke replied, sticking a handful of silverware in the dishwasher. He wasn't going to make Nathan do it all, especially since he was probably tired from the trip home. Something else was bothering him too, Lucas could tell. "You and Hales ok?" he asked after a moment.
"Yeah, we're fine," Nathan answered rather stiffly.
Lucas nodded but his features were marked with disbelief. "Yeah, that's what she said too."
Nathan couldn't suppress a small chuckle. "So that's why you're in here," he said knowingly. He couldn't glean the information from Haley so he tried him instead. His brother never could mind his own business.
"Look, I know something's wrong," Luke said defensively. "Neither of you are acting yourselves."
Nathan didn't deny it this time. "Just a little disagreement, Luke. Nothing for you to worry about."
"Ok, you don't have to tell me, but I'd like to help if I can."
"Well, you can't," Nathan snapped. "Look, we're married. Fights happen and you can't always sweep in and fix it."
Lucas scowled at his brother. "I get fights happen, Nate," he acknowledged grudgingly. "But not usually on your first day home. What the hell happened?"
"It's nothing. Just let it go."
"Fine," Luke conceded. "But whatever you did, you better fix it because I haven't seen Haley this upset since the last time you were home."
Nathan simply snorted but made no further comment on the subject. Of course Luke assumed he'd done something wrong. Okay, he had, but Lucas didn't know that. The guy had proven ten times over throughout the years that he would always side with Haley no matter what the argument. It didn't make confiding in him too encouraging at the best of times, let alone now when he was at the center of their disagreement.
...
"That was quick," Brooke stated as Luke came down the stairs just minutes after she had.
Lucas chuckled. "She was out before I got through the first page," he said in awe. "I guess Uncle Nate wore her out playing."
"I guess so," Brooke agreed evenly. If there was one good thing she had to say about Nathan, it was that he was great with Sawyer. And Jamie too. Of course that was disregarding the hurt he'd inflict upon them if the truth were ever discovered. Had he thought about that at all while he was...occupying himself with Peyton? Not likely.
"I expected them to stay a while longer," Luke continued. "I guess Sawyer wiped him out too," he added with a chuckle.
"I suppose she did."
"And that's besides the fact that he just flew home today, plus it's pretty obvious he and Haley are fighting," Luke went on. "I have no idea what they could be fighting about already, but they both tell me it's nothing. I hope that's true. Hey, you ok?" he suddenly asked when Brooke didn't respond.
Brooke glanced up at the sudden concern in his tone. "Me? Fine. Why do you ask?"
"You're quiet is all."
"Oh, and that's so abnormal, huh?"
"Yeah, actually, it is," he answered. Where was his usually perky and upbeat Brooke? "Is anything wrong?"
She shook her head. "No, it's nothing."
"Nothing," he repeated. Did nobody want to talk to him today? "Brooke," he pressed, knowing better.
She sighed deeply and faced him uncertainly. "Ok, let me ask you this," she finally said. Nathan's words rang through her head and she really needed to know where Lucas stood on the matter. She wasn't sure she'd like the answer, but she had to ask anyway. "Do you think I'm trying to zone in on Peyton's territory here?" she asked, holding her breath for his response.
His gaze narrowed in confusion. "Zone in on...of course not. Where did that come from? What does it even mean?"
"Nothing. Nevermind."
"Brooke."
"It's just, I'm here doing all these things with Sawyer that a mom usually does and it just seems like, I don't know, people might get the wrong idea."
"People?" he questioned, and then recalled Nathan's almost hostile reaction to learning Brooke had been taking Sawyer to 'mommy & me' classes. "Wait, did...did Nathan say something to you?" he asked suspiciously.
She shook her head, not quite in denial, but more like she didn't know what to say.
"Come on, Cheery, talk to me," Lucas pressed sternly. "What'd he say?"
"Luke..."
"Brooke."
With a deep sigh, she resigned to tell him, knowing he wouldn't drop it until she did. "Basically that I'm not Sawyer's mom, which, honestly, he's not wrong on that." She conveniently left out the part of her also not being Luke's wife.
"Son of a bitch," Lucas muttered under his breath. "Look, I'll talk to him, ok?"
"No don't."
"He has no right to say a damn word to you," he seethed. "Or to get involved in this at all. I can't believe he actually..."
"Lucas, it's fine," Brooke said in a calming tone, though the face he pulled told her it wasn't fine at all. "I can handle Nathan," she assured him. "So you don't need to come down on him. He was just..." He was looking out for Peyton is what he was doing. Maybe if Luke allowed Peyton to see Sawyer, Nathan wouldn't see her as such an obstacle. "He was...curious, I guess. It doesn't matter to me what he thinks. It matters what you think."
"I think Sawyer and I are lucky to have you in our lives," he spoke, his tone quite a bit softer now.
"Thank you for that, but please tell me I'm not the reason you're keeping Sawyer from Peyton."
"Of course not!" he snapped, his eyes flashing anger again. "I can't believe Nathan would say..."
"No, he didn't say that exactly," Brooke cut him off. "I have my own reasons for wanting to make sure," she added. "Mostly because I don't really understand your insistence on keeping them apart other than you're pissed off."
He smiled a little now. "Do I need another reason?"
She barely smiled back. "I just hope you're not relying on me for the same reason," she said honestly.
"You think I'm using you to get back at Peyton?" he asked, dumbfounded that she should consider that.
"No, yes, I don't know. I hope not. Tell me you're not."
"I'm not," he said reassuringly, yet she looked far from reassured. "Look, Brooke, it's like you said before; Peyton made her own bed. She destroyed our family, and if you want the honest to God truth, you've been a better mother to Sawyer than Peyton's ever been."
"That's still your anger talking," she pointed out. "Peyton loves Sawyer. You know that."
"Not enough to put her needs first," Luke argued. "She went off to L.A., had an affair. You think she ever took her to 'mommy and me' classes? Not once."
"That doesn't make her a bad mother."
"No, but it makes you a better one. You're as selfless as Peyton is selfish, Brooke. So who's the better role model for Sawyer, huh?"
She pressed her lips together and sighed deeply. Everything he said sounded like he was, indeed, trying to replace Peyton with her as a mother figure for Sawyer. "That's the thing, Lucas. I'm not in competition with Peyton and I don't want to be. And what you're saying practically confirms that I am the reason you're being so stubborn about letting her see Sawyer."
He vehemently denied the accusation. "No," he repeated. "Her screwing around is the reason. She's to blame, Brooke. Not me, not you. Her. But that doesn't mean I don't see how much you love Sawyer and how good you are for her."
She kept silent until she felt him near her and lift her chin with his forefinger.
"How good you are for me," he added with a whisper, as he forced her head up to look at him.
As if her stomach wasn't flip-flopping enough, his soft voice, his intense stare, set those butterflies dancing. It was complete havoc on her senses when he bent his head and grazed her lips with his own.
She didn't respond to his kiss. She was too stunned to respond. And she was terrified. She'd wanted this for so long, yet not under these circumstances. Not when she was already feeling insecure with her position versus Peyton's role in it all.
He pulled away, staring at her once again. He too was shocked by his own actions. He was about to apologize but then realized he wasn't sorry. It dawned on him that he'd been thinking about kissing those beautiful, full lips for weeks now, though he couldn't pinpoint exactly when that had started.
But now he didn't know what to say or do. No, she hadn't responded, but neither had she pushed him away. He wasn't sure what to make of that.
"What was that?" she whispered, her hands touching her lips instinctively.
He smiled a little shyly. "That was...well, it was...a kiss," he settled on. That's what it was, after all.
"Umm, yeah," she acknowledged. "But why? Why did you kiss me?"
"Why?" he repeated, grappling for an answer. May as well go with the truth. "Because you're Brooke Davis and I have feelings for you and you were standing there looking sexy..."
She shook her head while her heart thudded painfully. "I won't be your rebound, Luke," she stated flatly.
His face took on a look of confusion, and there was a simple reason for that. He was confused. How could she think she'd ever be just a rebound for him? But before he could pose the question, she mumbled that she had to go and darted out the door at breakneck speed. He called out to her, but she didn't look back and he was left staring at her retreating figure.
Damn it, he shouldn't have kissed her. And yet, he still didn't regret doing so. He only hoped he hadn't just completely sabotaged their friendship.
He would go to her house tomorrow and apologize. Not because he was sorry, but because she obviously didn't feel the same pull toward him as he did her, and he wasn't about to lose her friendship over his impulsive move.
...
His eyes were on his wife as she slept, her back to him, still angry, but his mind...his mind was on his mistress. Or, ex-mistress, he should say.
He could kick himself for where his thoughts lay. Those kinds of thoughts should be reserved for Haley alone, yet he couldn't help but think that if it were Peyton lying next to him, they'd most likely be having angry sex right now.
Because much of the time, Peyton did angry sex. Haley didn't, as proven by how she'd rebuffed his sexual advances when they'd gotten home from Luke's. That's what Haley did when she was mad—she turned her back and denied her body to him, withholding sex until he made up whatever he'd done wrong.
Not that Peyton didn't do that too, but Haley was much more consistent with it, and he often wished Haley would, at least occasionally, as Peyton did, let her passion for him overrule her anger toward him. But then, that was expecting a lot, he knew. Most people didn't want to be touched by someone they were mad at. Except sometimes Peyton did.
Muttering a silent oath, he turned to his back, staring up at the ceiling. Damn it, he was comparing them again. He wasn't sure exactly when he'd started doing that, but he knew it had to stop. Why the hell couldn't he get Peyton out of his head? He'd wanted her completely eradicated from his memory by now, but she continually popped into his thoughts, even at the most inopportune times. Was she still mad at him? Did she still think he didn't want to help her? That he didn't care about her?
And above all of that, the most pressing question at the moment; was she still with Jake?
He mulled over that for the longest time. Was Jake holding that gorgeous body? Kissing those soft, perfect lips? He'd told Brooke he wasn't jealous, but damn it, he was. He knew he was, and he hated that feeling, not to mention he was fully aware he had no right to feel it. But right be damned as he pictured the two of them together doing all the things he still craved to do with her again.
He tried to shake those troubling thoughts away. No, she wouldn't do anything with Jake. She loved him. Hadn't she said so? She wouldn't hook up with someone else so soon.
Against his better judgment, he threw off the covers, giving up on sleep. He had to know for sure. He rose from the bed as slowly as he could so as not to awaken his beautiful, sleeping wife.
He sent her a silent apology for what he was about to do, for he couldn't bring himself not to do it.
It probably made him the worst husband in the world, but he had to see her. He couldn't stop himself if he tried. So he didn't try. He'd tried trying; it didn't work.
...
"No, don't be stupid! Get up!" Peyton lamented as Jake stretched out on her sofa. "You're not sleeping on the couch."
He chuckled and closed his eyes. "Well, I doubt you want me driving your car back to my parents' house now," he rationalized. After all he had had a few drinks, not to mention the fact she'd already asked him to stay and he'd agreed—the very reason he'd embellished a little, knowing he wouldn't have to drive or face his parents.
"No, I mean you can sleep in my bed," she explained.
One brown eye opened and peeked at her. "With you?" he asked. "Probably not a good idea." He may be involved with someone he was truly starting to care about, but this was Peyton, the girl he had history with, the girl he'd once loved and still cared deeply about. The girl who was still so unbelievingly beautiful. No, he wouldn't be that guy. He wasn't that guy.
"Because?" she asked unsuspectingly.
Wow, she really had to ask? He wanted to tell her to take a wild guess. They may be just friends now, but he was still a man, and she...well, again, she was Peyton. He wasn't about to test temptation. But neither was he about to confess that he maybe, possibly could be tempted.
Unfortunately, she read him too easily, or at least, partially. "Ok, that wasn't an invitation to go at it all night...or at all," she said ruefully. "There is such a thing as two people sleeping beside each other. We've done it before."
Sure, before anything had ever happened between them; before he'd ever had a taste of her. "And if I remember right, you left your own bed and slept in your dad's room instead," he pointed out.
"Jake," she reprimanded. "At that point we weren't just friends even though nothing had happened yet. Things are different now. You have Crystal, and I..." She what? Was married? Had a lover? Neither one of those really rang true now though technically she was still married. "Things are different," she repeated rather than trying to come up with a name for her current status in life.
"Yeah, but..."
"Ok fine, you baby," she gave in easily, not wanting to pressure the only person who still seemed to be her friend. "You can have my dad's room."
"Or I could stay on the couch."
"Don't argue with me, Jagielski," she ordered. "I'm fiercer than I look."
He chuckled softly. "I remember. Fine, your dad's room then."
"Smart choice."
"Oh, there was a choice? I didn't even realize," he jested.
She laughed, but before she could respond, they heard a car pull up, an ignition shut off, a car door slam. They didn't think anything of it—it could be any one of her neighbors getting home—until they heard the attempt to turn the front door handle, followed by the chime of the doorbell.
His protective nature instinctively taking hold, Jake stood to his feet , blocking Peyton's body from the front door. Who the hell would come knocking, so to speak, at this hour? "You expecting your dad?" He instantly recognized the stupidity of that question. If she was expecting her dad she wouldn't have just offered him the guy's room for the night.
Even so, Peyton shook her head. She either didn't notice the silly remark, or did but chose not to comment on it. "He's still on assignment on the dredging boat for at least another month," she answered.
He gently pushed her to the far side of the wall and told her to stay put as he went to peer out a tiny corner of the curtained window.
Luckily the porch light was on or he'd never have been able to tell who stood outside. "It's Nathan," he said, dropping the curtain and stepping away from the window.
Just like that Peyton's heart began to thud at an erratic pace and she whispered, more to herself than to Jake, "He's home." When had he gotten home? She knew it would be soon—basketball season was over—and had wondered when exactly he would return.
Jake watched her with a curious expression, wondering why she seemed rooted to her spot rather than walking over to the door to let her brother-in-law in. "Aren't you gonna get it?" he questioned.
"What?" she asked half dazed.
"The door," he answered quizzically. True she'd consumed a fair bit of alcohol, but not for a few hours now and its effects should be, at least to some extent, worn off.
"No," she replied with apprehension, not even realizing how little sense she made to Jake right now. "I can't...I can't see him. What does he want?"
"Let's find out," Jake returned casually, heading to the door himself.
She grabbed hold of his arm to stop him in his tracks. "No, don't answer it," she pleaded. "I can't see him right now." God, she'd likely fling herself into his arms and beg him to stay. She already had half a mind to do just that. But she couldn't. She couldn't. He'd come home to Haley, not her. Hadn't he made that clear multiple times that that was his intention all along?
His curiosity growing, Jake's thick eyebrows narrowed in wonder while at the same time the ringing doorbell turned into a heavy pounding at the door. "Ok," he said, perplexed. "But I think he's just gonna keep knocking until you open it."
Almost as though Jake's saying so had pre-arranged it, Nathan hollered from the other side. "Peyton, open up. We need to talk and I'm not leaving till we do."
Jake shot her a 'told ya' look to which she rolled her eyes and sighed. "Fine," she conceded grudgingly. "Open it, but tell him I'm not here."
"He knows you're here, Peyton. Your car's in the driveway."
"Whatever," she replied with irritation. "Tell him anything. Just get rid of him. He can't be here."
It was at that precise moment that Jake felt he would be every kind of fool if he didn't recognize what was practically staring him in the face. It was unbelievable to think so, but Peyton was making it very clear that unbelievable was not impossible. The way she was reacting to a late night visit from her friend and brother-in-law was very suspect.
He stood stock still as the truth penetrated his brain. It was Nathan. The guy she'd told him about; the guy she'd had an affair with and was in love with, was Nathan. The revelation shocked him.
And yet it didn't. As much as he'd thought Peyton and Nathan had found their soul mates in Lucas and Haley, if one considered their own tempestuous high-school relationship, they'd have to wonder. Yes they'd been young, and they'd fought constantly, made each other miserable, yet they'd kept going back to each other. It was understood by many that sex was the whole basis of their relationship, but Jake had to doubt such claims. Though some people may return to destructive relationships for sexual purposes, it didn't make much sense for two good-looking and popular people to do so when either one could have gotten sex from literally anywhere and anyone else. No, sex may have played a factor—certainly they were physically attracted to each other and obviously the sex was good between them—but it could not have been the only factor. There had to have been some feelings involved. Feelings that had apparently either remained or re-emerged.
Peyton felt a blush creep up and stain her cheeks as she stared back at Jake, her eyes and expression reflecting shame. It was clear Jake had figured out who her lover was. He'd be judging her now like everyone else who knew was judging her. Could she really expect him not to?
"Hate me now?" she questioned softly, her tone flat to disguise the raw emotions running through her. Nathan was here. Oh God, he was home and he was here. And she couldn't hide her feelings in the face of it.
The pounding came again, reminding her it wasn't her imagination. Not that she thought it was, nor did she need the reminder. She could feel Nathan's presence through every pulse of her shaking body. "Jake," she pleaded. "Please. Just make him go. I can't see him." She didn't trust herself to.
The sheer desperation in her tone is what finally caused his feet to spring into action. With a slow nod, he made his way to the door and turned the handle, noting Peyton kept herself well hidden from view. She could explain later. Right now he needed to send the object of her emotional turmoil the other way, otherwise she was sure to fall to pieces. She was already crumbling at the mere sound of his voice.
She'd asked if he hated her now. He could never hate her. He wanted to protect her. The married, raven-haired basketball star in front of him, however...
...
Meanwhile Nathan cursed under his breath as his fist banged on the door once again. Why couldn't she just open the damn thing? Why was it even locked in the first place? She never locked it. The longer he stood there, the longer he had time to think, and the longer he had time to think, the more he felt guilty. He shouldn't have come. He knew that. A good husband would be home with his wife, even if she was mad at him, not knocking at his mistress' door at three in the morning. Hell, a good husband didn't have a mistress at all. Damn it, what was he doing? He should just turn away and forget about Peyton. He'd been telling himself so for months now.
Yet he stayed for the same reasons he'd come. He had to see her.
On the short drive toward her place he'd managed to convince himself that Jake really wouldn't be there. His jealousy was making him paranoid, and he should know better than to let that unwanted emotion get the better of him. It only ever got him into trouble.
He convinced himself so completely that he even stopped at the bank to make a cash withdrawal for Peyton to use in lieu of the credit card Haley had had cancelled. He held the envelope of money in his hand and was prepared to explain to Peyton that it was Haley, not he, who'd cut off her funds. In order to do so though, Jake would have to not be there. And he wouldn't be. He was sure of it.
So sure was he that it was a complete shock to his system when the man actually answered the door. He stood, flabbergasted, when he came face to face with him.
"Scott," Jake was first to speak. "It's late. What are you doing here?"
Nathan crossed his arms over his muscular chest in a defensive gesture. "Funny, I was just gonna ask you the same thing, Jagielski," he said, his heart sinking. "Where's Peyton?"
"Asleep," Jake returned, matching Nathan's tone and posture.
"I need to talk to her," Nathan said with an attempt to push himself through the door.
Jake blocked him. "I don't think so," he said coolly. "Go home to your wife, Nate. You have no business here."
It was more the way Jake said it than what he said that had Nathan realizing that the guy knew. Damn it, so many people were finding out. "Look, I just need a minute. Can you tell her I'm here?" She'd want to see him. Okay, maybe not, but he wanted to see her, now mainly to demand what the hell was up with her and Jake. Jealousy be damned, he needed to know.
"No can do," Jake said stubbornly. "Why don't you stop by tomorrow at a decent hour? And uh, bring Haley with you."
He met Jake's penetrating gaze. Fuck, he had no bargaining power here. The guy clearly knew about the affair and, just as clearly, was blaming him for it. He always had been blind to Peyton's flaws. Not that she was entirely at fault either. They'd both been willing participants. "Fine," he muttered sourly, giving up. What else could he do? Jake obviously wasn't going to budge. Bastard. "Just give her this for me," he added, handing over the envelope and turning back toward his car.
He'd barely reached it when Peyton came storming out of the house—apparently she wasn't sleeping—holding the envelope and waving it at him as she marched down the walkway, a furious expression on her beautiful face. "What is this?" she demanded irately. "Your version of a settlement cheque? Payoff to the scorned mistress?"
He turned just in time for her to toss the envelope at his chest.
"First you offer to help me, then you take it back and now you throw..."
"I didn't take it back," he said defensively. "Haley did. She found out about the credit and she cancelled it. I wouldn't have..."
She wasn't listening. She was too furious for listening. "...cash at me," she went on as though he hadn't interrupted. "Well, keep your damn money. I know what strings come with it."
She would have walked away at that. She made to walk away. But he couldn't let her do that and so grabbed her arm to pull her back in. She was going to hear him out whether she wanted to or not. Because he needed her to. And because he needed answers himself. "Why's Jagielski here, Peyton?" he asked straight out, unable to keep that little green monster at bay. "What? You over me already?"
Not even close. But of course she didn't say that. Instead, she met his fierce blue gaze and taunted him. "Well, you know what a slut I am. You just never know who I'm gonna fall for next."