A/N: Once again, thanks to all who are reading, and especially to all the reviewers this chapter. Your feedback really makes my day, so I appreciate each and every one, good or bad. I absolutely love reading them so thank you so much. You guys are amazing. To the 2 newcomers who reviewed every single chapter, thank you so much. And, of course, my ever faithfuls, I'm forever grateful.
I hope you all enjoy this chapter and keep on reviewing…and that those who haven't yet, you know…do. LOL.
Disclaimer: I do not own One Tree Hill or any of its characters.
Nathan sighed deeply, tapping his fingers against Peyton's bed frame in boredom. He glanced over at the desk where Peyton sat, pencil in hand, her sketchbook laid out in front of her. He'd thought she'd need him tonight, but it seemed all she needed or wanted, was a pencil and paper. She'd been drawing for over an hour, ever since they'd come back from the bowling alley.
He tapped his fingers harder; hoping to distract her, even for a minute, yet he knew it wouldn't work. He'd already tried various tactics to get her attention; talking to her, turning up the volume on the TV, whistling; all kinds of things that normally annoyed her when she sketched. Nothing worked. She was so absorbed in her drawing that she didn't hear anything around her.
He was getting annoyed. Why had he bothered to come if she was just going to ignore him? Had he known, he would have never cancelled his night of guaranteed entertainment and pleasure. He definitely wouldn't have felt ignored has he stuck to his original plans.
"Hey, babe, you hungry?" he tried speaking again. "Cuz I could order a pizza."
No response.
"Yeah, sure, Nate," he answered himself in a high-pitched voice. "Pizza sounds delicious."
"Great, let's order then," he continued in his own voice, lying back onto the pillows.
But feeling restless, he was up again in less than a minute. He walked over to the desk and stood behind Peyton, putting his hands on her shoulders and gently massaging them.
Peyton drew frantically in her sketchbook, afraid that her recent recollection would fade if she didn't put it down on paper. She wasn't upset about the memory, she was grateful for it. She could never have enough memories of her mother, so when a new one came, she didn't want to lose it.
She smiled when she felt Nathan's hands on her shoulders, untying the knots she knew were there. Her smile faded though when he started trailing kisses down her neck. Her eyes closed for a few seconds. It felt good. Too good. If she let him continue, she knew she'd never get her sketch done.
"Nate, please," she said in annoyance, pulling her head away.
Rather than stopping, he placed tiny kisses on her skin, until he reached her ear, and then nibbled softly on its lobe, sending shivers down her spine. "Nathan, come on," she pleaded.
Paying no heed to her weak protests, he slid one hand inside the top of her shirt.
"Would you stop!" she exclaimed, as she pushed his hand away, feeling just as angry by her body's response to his touch as she was by his persistence. "Geez, can't you wait ten minutes?"
He pulled away with a loud sigh but didn't say anything. She knew he was mad, but she really wanted to finish.
"I'm almost done, ok?"
"Yeah, whatever," he mumbled, flopping back down on the bed.
She turned to look at him, and suddenly noticed the time. Her eyes widened in shock to discover she'd been drawing for nearly an hour and a half, not ten or fifteen minutes as she'd thought. She couldn't believe he'd waited so long before complaining of boredom and practically demanding her attention. Not realizing how hard he had tried to get her attention, she smiled at him now, thinking how sweet and unusual it was for him to let her draw, undisturbed, as long as he had. Nathan couldn't stand being ignored, so normally he would do whatever he could to irritate her into putting her sketchbook away. Maybe he was finally realizing how much her art meant to her. For a little while anyway, she thought, remembering that he was angry with her.
"Don't be mad, please. I promise I'm almost finished." She explained to him her reasons, hoping he'd understand.
"Finish it," he said after she'd spoken.
"Really? I don't want this to cause a fight."
"No, it's okay," he told her.
The truth was he felt bad for his previous annoyance when all she'd been trying to do was capture a memory of her mother before it faded away. What right did he have to take that from her, or even try to?
"Are you sure?" she asked him. "I'll just be a few more minutes, I promise."
"Peyton, it's fine. I'll wait. You don't have to rush." He said it softly, no trace of anger left in his voice.
She smiled sweetly and nodded, before turning back to her sketch, glad he was there and that he understood.
Nathan was still bored, but upon listening to her explanation, he was better able to deal with it. He'd give her the space she needed to come to grips with her recent memory on her own. After that, he'd be there to comfort her if she needed him to. He laid on the bed, just watching her.
By the time Peyton finished, twenty minutes later, he had fallen asleep. She sighed in disappointment. She'd really wanted to spend some alone time with him after an evening in such a large crowd. She loved her friends and hanging out with them, but she loved spending time alone with Nathan even more. Especially when he was being sweet. Looking at him in peaceful slumber, it was hard to imagine he could be anything other than sweet. She shook her head. "If only," she thought, wishfully.
He opened his eyes when she crawled in next to him.
"You done?" he asked groggily, as he put his arm around her.
"Yeah. So if you still wanted to…" she left it unfinished as she kissed his neck and caressed his abs, her hand smoothly traveling downward.
He took her hand before it reached its desired destination, interlocking his fingers with hers, and resting them lightly on his stomach.
He gave a small smile. "Mood's passed. You had your chance," he said sleepily.
"So, this is payback?" she asked teasingly. It was a rare occasion when Nathan passed up sex. "I thought you said you couldn't resist me," she reminded him when he only grunted.
"I lied," he teased, trying hard to keep his eyes open. "Sorry."
"You and your damn apologies," she replied in mock indignity, before moving in closer to lie in the crook of his arm.
"So, you're ok?" he asked, wanting to know, before falling back to sleep.
She smiled. "I'm better than ok," she said honestly.
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Peyton awoke to the aroma of coffee as it filled the air. She opened her eyes to see Nathan beside the bed, holding a tray of food and the hot liquid. Curious of its contents, she sat up. Hash browns and sausages. The very same breakfast he'd attempted to cook before. "I still have a kitchen, right?" she asked warily, the memory of the last kitchen disaster still fresh in her mind.
Nathan chuckled. "You don't hear any alarms ringing, do you?"
"That doesn't mean anything. We never re-hooked it after the last incident."
He sat on the bed and put the tray between them. Peyton picked up a hash brown and eagerly sunk her teeth into it. She nearly vomited right then and there. Trying hard to mask any sign of disgust from appearing on her face, she chewed and swallowed the bite she had in her mouth. She didn't want Nathan to know she didn't like the breakfast he had prepared for her, but she really didn't want to have to take another bite of those hash browns, so she tried a bite of sausage instead. They weren't any better.
Nathan watched her as she tasted the food. "Well?" he asked her, as she swallowed. "How is it?"
Peyton didn't know what to say. On the one hand, if she said she liked the food, she would be stuck eating it, but on the other, if she admitted she didn't like it, she might offend him. "Mmmmm, it's good," she chose. "Why don't you have some?" she answered, pushing the tray slightly toward him.
He grabbed a piece of sausage and took a large bite. Peyton watched as he immediately grabbed a napkin and spit the semi-chewed sausage into it. "Ugh! This is nasty!" he said in disgust. " How can you eat it?"
Peyton couldn't help it. She started giggling uncontrollably. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt your feelings."
"Why would you hurt my feelings? I bought these from the restaurant down the street," Nathan admitted. "Shobey's or whatever."
Peyton slapped him playfully. "What? You told me you made it."
"No, I didn't," Nathan answered. "You just assumed I did."
"And you let me believe it. It was on a plate and everything."
Nathan could do nothing but laugh.
"Are you telling me I choked down two of those horrible things for nothing?"
He continued laughing at her. "Are you telling me you would have eaten that whole plate just because you thought I made it?"
"Yes!" she said, giving him another slap.
"You must really love me then. I would never do that for you," he teased.
"Liar," she said accusingly. "You ate that entire bowl of chicken soup I made you last month when you were sick."
"Because I liked it," he countered reasonably.
"Really?" she asked doubtfully. "That's not what Tim told me."
He smiled guiltily. Busted!
"So, you were saying?" she joked
"Tim's got a big mouth," he answered, hanging his head in mock defeat.
Once their playful argument ceased, they threw the food in the garbage and went down to the kitchen to make some frozen waffles.
"What do you say we just stick with waffles for breakfast every day for the rest of our lives?" he suggested as they sat down to eat.
"Considering your track record with hash browns and sausages, I'd say that's a great idea," she replied with a giggle. "Either that or cold cereal."
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Lucas sat at the counter of his mom's café enjoying his favorite breakfast of hash browns and sausages. Nobody cooked like his mother. Every faithful customer could attest to that. Some of them had been coming in here every day since she'd opened, others, ever since they'd discovered the small café. They all agreed on one thing. Karen served the best food in town at the most reasonable prices. Once a customer tried her food, they were hooked. There was no going back.
"So, kiddo," Karen said in one of her rare spare moments. "What are your plans for the day?"
"I was going to go to the Rivercourt, unless you need me here," Lucas answered.
"Oh no, I'm fine here. You go ahead."
"You sure?"
"Yes. Besides, Haley comes in for the noon rush."
"Ok then."
He finished his meal and headed toward the Rivercourt.
He didn't even see it coming, as he walked through the alleyway, someone grabbed him from behind and punched him hard in the face. Another blow, to his stomach this time, followed. He doubled over in pain, but his attacker took him by the face, pushing him up against the wall. He couldn't even tell who it was since the person was wearing a ski mask.
"I got a message for you," the guy said in an obviously disguised voice, as he wrapped his hand around Luke's neck. "Quit staring at Peyton, or I'll gouge your eyes out so you won't be able to see anything." He let him go after that, pushing him down to the ground, and took off running.
When Luke managed to stand up, he decided against going to the Rivercourt. He just wanted to go home.
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Nathan sat on the hood of Peyton's car as he waited for her to come back from visiting her mother's grave. During breakfast she'd mentioned wanting to come down to the gravesite, so he'd offered to go with her, but he knew she wanted to go alone to the actual grave. That was fine by him since he didn't know what he could ever say to a dead person anyway, especially one he'd never met. He couldn't understand these long conversations Peyton would have with her mom, but he knew they meant a lot to her.
He yawned, though he wasn't tired. He was bored as hell. But when Peyton returned a short while later, smiling apologetically, he just shrugged and wrapped his arms around her.
"I'm sorry I took so long," she told him meaningfully.
"It's ok," Nathan reassured her.
"No, you must have been so bored. Last night too."
"I'm never bored when I'm with you," he said sweetly.
She had to chuckle. "I never knew one well-placed lie could be like music to my ears. You can be quite charming when you want to be."
"You haven't even seen my A-game yet," he countered.
"I'm pretty sure I have," she contradicted.
"So, this music you talk about," he began teasingly, "is it the good kind or that loser rock crap you like to listen to?"
"And he's back," she declared humorously, bringing forth a hearty laugh from her boyfriend.
"So, what now?" he asked her.
"Your house for a little NBA live?" she suggested, having surprisingly taken a liking to the video game he'd taught her.
Nathan smiled. "You know, I think you're more hooked on that game than I am."
"I'm better at it too," she bragged.
"You wish."
"Babe, I beat you three times in a row last time."
"I went easy on you when you almost started crying from losing too much," he told her with a grin. "I felt sorry for you."
"Uh huh, keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better," she said lightly, hopping into the car.
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"Hold on!" Dan hollered at whoever was pounding on his door. When he opened it, he was surprised to find his brother standing on the other side, a look of pure rage on his face.
"Where is he?" Keith asked furiously as he pushed through the door, letting himself in.
"Who?" Dan questioned.
"Your no good son!"
Dan laughed. "I thought you were keeping tabs on Lucas."
"Don't get smart with me, Dan. Not today," he warned him. "Where's Nathan?"
Dan shrugged. "Off with his girlfriend, I suppose. I haven't seen him all weekend. Why?" he asked, suddenly curious.
"Because he jumped Lucas this morning. From behind, no less, like the coward he is," Keith informed him through gritted teeth.
"Whoa whoa," Dan replied. "Wait a minute here. What the hell are you talking about?"
Keith was seething with rage. He'd thought since Nathan had shown Lucas some courtesy at the last game, that his violent tactics against him would be over, but the swollen eye Luke sported when he'd come home, had proven him wrong. He nearly spit out the whole story as he told it to Dan.
"And you automatically assume it was Nathan?" Dan asked.
"Don't toy with me. You know damn well it was him."
"Ok, let's say, for a minute, that it was him. Why are you here? You come to punish him? Beat him up? A kid? " Dan questioned. " Do you really expect that I'd let you do that to my son?" he added when Keith didn't deny it.
"Well, you'd better do something, Dan," Keith advised. "And soon. If it happens again, we're going to the police."
"And tell them what? That Lucas can't fight his own battles?"
"He didn't stand a chance since his opponent wasn't man enough to do his dirty work face to face," Keith thundered.
"I'll tell you what," Dan said. "When Nathan gets home, I'll talk to him and see what he has to say about all this," he offered. "If he's responsible, I'll make sure to discipline him accordingly."
"It has to stop, Dan. He attacked Lucas in broad daylight for looking at his girlfriend. There's something wrong with that kid."
"Well, maybe Lucas should heed his advice and quit looking at her," Dan taunted.
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"My dad's home. My alcoholic uncle's here too. That's his car," Nathan said, as he pulled into the driveway. "Wonder what he's doing here. Probably looking for booze money from my dad," he said harshly." You want to just go back to your place?"
"No way. I'm looking forward to kicking your ass at your own game," Peyton replied. "So what if your dad and your uncle are here? We'll be in your room."
"Ok," he said, turning off the ignition. He pulled her in for a lingering kiss before she could open her door. She responded, loving the feel of his lips on hers.
When they finally came up for air, Peyton smiled teasingly at him. "Don't think I'm going easy on you just because you're a great kisser."
He smiled back. "Competition really brings out the best in you," he stated good-naturedly.
"You haven't seen my A-game yet," she repeated his words from earlier.
They entered the house hand in hand, stopping dead in their tracks when the two men inside stopped mid-conversation to look their way. Nathan glanced from one to the other, noticing they both wore the same angry expression. It was clear they'd been in the middle of an argument, but Nathan shifted uncomfortably when they kept staring at him as though he'd done something horribly wrong.
"What?" he asked simply.