A/N: Thank you again to everybody who is reading this and special thanks to all of you who take time to leave a review. Your feedback is greatly appreciated, good or bad. Love you guys.

Hope you enjoy this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own One Tree Hill or any of its characters.

Nathan sauntered out of his bedroom at the beach house, dragging his feet and rubbing his tired eyes. His head pounded from last night's alcohol and his body ached from the fight. The last thing he wanted to do was get out of bed, but his dry throat begged for water.

"It's about time you get up," he heard a bubbly voice say.

He groaned in complaint. It was too early to deal with her perkiness. "What are you doing here, Brooke?" he asked, continuing his way to the kitchen and taking out a bottle of water.

"Well hello to you too, grumpy," she returned, meeting him in the kitchen. "You know, most people actually get dressed before they come out of their room," she added, referring to the fact that he only had boxers on.

He gulped down the entire contents of the bottle before answering her. "What's the point?" he asked, reaching for another bottled water. "I'm just getting a drink, then going back to bed."

"Nate, it's after noon already."

"Your point?"

"That is my point. Are you going to sleep all day?"

"That was the plan," he mumbled in reply, before chugging down the second bottle of water.

"Well, change of plans, superstar. Today, you're going to talk to Peyton."

Nathan managed a sarcastic chuckle. "I don't think so. She was pretty pissed at me last night."

"Can you blame her?"

"Brooke, if you came to lecture me, save it ok. I'm really not in the mood."

"And that should concern me, why?"

"Because you'll just be wasting your breath since in two minutes I'll be sound asleep again."

"No," Brooke contradicted. "In two minutes you'll be in the shower, waking up, and preparing your speech to Peyton."

Nathan scoffed at that. Like he really needed to prepare a speech when he already memorized it a long time ago. He knew the hold he had on her and though it may be wrong to use that leverage against her, he wanted her back so he would do and say whatever she wanted him to. A few gentle caresses along with the right words – I love you. I'm sorry I cheated. I won't do it again. You're the only girl for me. I promise, and she'd be his again. Easy. That is, as long as he got there at the right time, which could have been today, if last night hadn't happened; although to think she'd go that far to make him jealous made him feel all the more powerful, now that he was able to think on it clearly. But still he knew she'd be too angry at this point. "Yeah right," he said. "Think again."

"Nathan, come on. You at least owe her an apology for being such an ass last night."

"I take it you've talked to her."

"Yeah, I came here from there."

"And she's mad at me, right?"

"Of course she's mad at you, Nate. What do you expect?"

"I expect she's not gonna talk to me today anyway, so why bother?"

"She doesn't have to talk. You do."

"Brooke, you know she's not gonna listen either, not while she's still pissed at me."

"Well, you could at least try."

"I'll try tomorrow. I'm too sick today."

"Too hungover, you mean."

"That too," he replied, heading back to the bedroom.

"Nathan…"

"Brooke, it's a day. What's the difference? Oh I got it, today's the day you picked for the bet, right?"

"I didn't go in the bet this time, thank you very much," she said in offense. "I did tell Tim and Tyler they should pick today, but that's so not the point."

"No, that's exactly the point. Even though there's no money involved, you still want to be right."

"No, I just want you two to get back together. You're both so miserable."

"Tomorrow, Brooke."

Brooke sighed in defeat. "Fine, since you're in such a hurry to get back to… bed. Why is that anyway? You got a girl in there?"

Other than a smirk he gave no response, just headed back to the bedroom.

"You do!" she hollered but only received the click of his bedroom door as he shut it for an answer.

She stood there a few moments, not knowing what to do. She wanted her friends back together, but Nathan wasn't helping matters with his constant need for female attention. No wonder he didn't want to go see Peyton today – he was otherwise detained. Why did he always do this? Brooke knew he loved Peyton, but she really couldn't understand Nathan sometimes.

She should just go, leave Nathan to his…activities. Except it didn't sit well with her to do that, especially since she'd gone to Peyton's this morning and spent its entirety consoling her. Brooke imagined the curly blonde was most likely still at home crying her eyes out, even now.

She smirked to herself as an idea struck her and a vengeful scheme to get rid of Nathan's most recent plaything formulated in her mind. Nathan would probably be mad at her, but this was for her girl, her P. Sawyer. She waited a few minutes before putting her plan into motion. It would have a much better dramatic effect if she waited until things got more, say, hot and heavy, between Nathan and the slutbag.

Once a few moments had passed, she took a deep breath, barely containing a devilish smile, and forced the angriest expression on her face. She could pull this off, she'd done it in the cafeteria that day – and fooled everyone, including Nathan.

Bursting though the bedroom door, she exclaimed in the loudest, most threatening voice she could muster, "Get the hell away from my husband!"

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"So, you two actually had a conversation? Finally?" Haley asked, looking at Lucas in amusement. He was actually glowing like a little boy who'd just received what he'd wanted most for Christmas.

They were both working the café this afternoon, but were able to take a few minutes rest since the noon rush was over. Everyone was served and contently eating their meals.

"Yep," Lucas replied happily. "She sat right over there," he added, pointing to the table Peyton had occupied only twelve hours ago.

"So, what did you talk about?"

Lucas pondered her question. "Not much, actually," he admitted. "She ordered coffee, asked how long I've been working here, so I mentioned my mom owned it. Uh, she apologized for being a bitch the other day. Her words."

"Well, that's good," Haley said in surprise. She couldn't imagine the snobby Peyton Sawyer apologizing for anything.

"Oh, and she asked why guys are jerks."

Haley chuckled. "More trouble in paradise I presume?"

"Sounds that way. And then I drove her home, because apparently all her friends, and I use the term loosely, were too busy getting hammered to notice or care that she left the party on foot."

"Better than letting her drive if she was drinking," Haley countered reasonably.

Lucas frowned. "Not much. Who knows what could have happened to her."

Haley laughed at him. "Overreact much? Luke, it's Tree Hill."

"Where I got jumped in broad daylight," he reminded her.

"By someone in Peyton's group of friends, so it wasn't likely that he'd attack her."

"I know," Luke acknowledged. "But you never know who could be out there lurking, just waiting for a pretty girl to be walking along by herself. You'd think at least one of her friends would have seen her home safely. Especially Nathan, even if they're fighting, he could have made sure she got home ok."

"Well Nathan's a jerk, Luke. You know that. A hot jerk, but a jerk all the same," she said with a smile. "Besides, if he'd taken her home, then you couldn't have, and she wouldn't have even been here so your whole conversation with her never would have happened and you'd still be whining about how you're invisible to Peyton Sawyer," she said all in one breath.

"Hey, I don't whine," he whined.

Haley patted his back, and then picked up the coffee pot to make her usual refill round.

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Brooke stood in the doorway, a look of astonishment on her face. She'd burst through the door, with her haphazard plan, meaning to take Nathan and the girl by surprise, but instead she was the one in shock. Nathan was alone in the room.

Nathan couldn't suppress a chuckle as he lifted his head from his pillow, supporting his weight on his elbows. "Husband, huh? Exactly how wasted was I last night?"

"You said you had a girl in here," Brooke stated feebly.

"No, you said that," Nathan contradicted.

"Well, you didn't deny it."

"Ok, you're right, I didn't. But let's not fight, ok, sugar plum. I mean it's the day after our wedding. We should be in wedded bliss, making love, not war," he teased.

"Haha, you're funny. Not to mention delusional."

"What are you saying?" Nathan asked, reaching for her hand and pulling her onto the bed with him, causing a shocked scream to escape her lips. "That you don't plan on performing your wifely duties?"

Brooke laughed. "Hey, I married you for your money, honey, not your body."

Nathan pushed her into a laying position. "Whatever. As long as I still get to enjoy all the perks of married life," he added, laying directly over her so that their faces were mere inches apart. "Now, say something romantic, sweet pea."

Brooke inhaled his scent and her nose wrinkled in disgust. "Ugh. Nate, you smell like stale beer."

Nathan grinned at her. "That's not romantic," he pointed out.

"No, but it's the truth. Get off me before I puke."

"Not until you say something sweet to your strapping new husband."

"Believe me, that was sweet. Seriously, I'm gonna vomit. Ok ok," she added when he stubbornly remained still. "Your eyes are like, as blue as the ocean, whatever. Now get off me."

He chuckled and rolled off of her, settling beside her. "See, now was that so hard? And I want you to know that I'm gonna carry those words around with me for the rest of my life," he said dramatically clutching his heart.

"Which words?" Brooke asked. "Get off me before I puke?"

Nathan laughed heartily. "Just the way you say it, it practically brings tears to my eyes. I can really tell how much you love me."

Brooke giggled and threw a pillow at him.

"So, how about you make me some lunch, love muffin," Nathan requested teasingly. "I'm starved."

"How about you get off your lazy ass and make your own? And make me some while you're at it?"

"Oh, so that's how it's gonna be. You know, you really suck at this wife thing. No sweet-talk, no sex, no cooking. I don't know why I ever married you," Nathan teased. "I want a divorce," he added before rolling over and putting the pillow she'd thrown at him over his face. He chuckled when he heard her response.

"Fine, but I get half your assets, which is all I wanted in the first place."

The doorbell sounded, scaring Brooke nearly half to death.

"Get that, will you, dear," Nathan mumbled from under the pillow.

She rolled her eyes but stood to answer the door. "Hi," she said when she noticed it was Brent.

"Hi. Nathan around?"

"Umm, yeah, I'll get him," she said, going toward the bedroom.

Brent gave her a wondering look, but didn't comment on it. "No, that's ok. I just came to get my bag actually. My parents are out in the car."

Brooke nodded, uncomfortable around the one guy to ever turn down her sexual advances.

"Tell Nathan…" He stopped mid-sentence when Nathan emerged from the bedroom. "Dude, you don't get dressed to come to the door?"

Nathan just shrugged. "Hey, about yesterday…"

Brent cut him off with a dismissive wave. "As I was just about to tell Brooke…"

"My lovely wife?" Nathan joked and then shook his head to indicate Brent to go on with what he'd been about to say.

"Anyway," Brent said, ignoring his confusion, "no hard feelings here. If I were you, thinking what you thought, I'd want to hurt me too."

"So we're cool then?"

"Yeah, we're cool," Brent said, raising his fist to knock it against Nathan's.

"Oh look, you match," Brooke said referring to both their knuckles and their battered faces.

"Speaking of," Brent began. "I hope you don't mind, but I told my dad that you look ten times worse than me. I know that's not true, but I figured you owe me one."

Nathan chuckled. "Great, so I look like the punk."

"Don't worry, I referred to you as the other guy."

"Well then, no problem."

"Good, cause it's the same story I plan to tell my friends when I get home," Brent joked, picking up his bag. "Anyway, I'll see you when you guys come to us next month."

"Alright, man," Nathan said as they smashed fists again. "See ya then."

"Bye Brooke," Brent said.

"Bye," she returned. "Mmmm, he is so freaking hot," she said once he'd gone.

Nathan gave her an amused look. "Married one day and already you're looking at other guys."

"Well he smells better," she said with a chuckle. "Besides, you said you wanted a divorce."

"Oh, so on to the next victim?" he teased, earning him a slap in the head.

"I don't know what I ever saw in you," Brooke said, throwing her nose up haughtily.

"My wallet, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Speaking of money, I'm off to the mall. Want to come?"

"No."

"Fine," she said, walking out the door.

"See you later, sugar plum."

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The next day, Peyton was lying on her stomach across the bed, sketching in her book when Nathan appeared in the doorway. For a moment he just leaned up against the doorframe, watching her. She was so beautiful. He could look at her all day. No, actually he couldn't. Not without touching her.

Sensing a presence, Peyton looked up from her sketch. As usual, her breath caught in her throat and her stomach fluttered. Did he always have to look so damn good? She quickly looked away from him. "I didn't hear you come in," she said.

That was no surprise. When she sketched the house could probably burn down around her and she wouldn't notice. "Good thing I'm not a robber," he joked as he came fully into the room.

"What do you want, Nathan?" she snapped, despite the fact that she already knew the answer.

I want you. "I want to talk," he said.

I knew it. "It's too late for talking, Nate."

"I'm sorry about Friday night," he continued, as though she hadn't spoken. He knew he'd have to start there. "I just, I went crazy thinking you were…"

"Done being your doormat?" she cut him off bitterly.

"No," he denied, coming closer to her. "Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true."

"No, it's not. I love you," he claimed, sitting on the bed beside her, knowing that his chances with her skyrocketed the closer he got.

Peyton knew it too, for she abruptly got up off the bed, putting a safe distance between them. "No, you are not going to pull this crap on me again, Nathan. I want you out of here."

"I'm not trying to pull anything, Peyton," he said, standing up as well. "I just want to be with you."

Don't listen to him. Force him to leave. "Nathan, I mean it. Get out."

He took a step toward her, but she backed up. "Get the hell out!" she screamed, knowing that if he touched her, her defenses would crumble at his feet.

Nathan muttered a silent oath. He'd known she'd still be somewhat angry with him but he hadn't expected it to be this bad still. He should have waited a few more days. But he was here now and he wanted her back so bad. He needed to get close to her, touch her – that was the only way to soften her. But she wouldn't let him near her.

"Peyton, could you just listen to me please?" he asked. "Look, I know I hurt you, ok," he pressed on when she fell silent. "And I'm sorry. But it's not gonna be like that this time. I promise."

He's just saying what he thinks you want to hear. Don't let him fool you again. "Like I haven't heard that one a millions times," she stated sourly.

Damn it! You got to get closer to her. It's the only way. He walked over to her and deliberately stood right in front of her. She moved back again but for each backward step she took, he took one forward, until she was backed up against the wall.

"I know I say it a lot," he told her. "But I mean it this time."

Don't look at him, Peyton. Don't get lost in his eyes. "As opposed to every other time?"

He placed a finger under her chin and gently forced eye contact. "Baby, I'm sorry," he said softly. "I'm sorry for everything."

She closed her eyes at the genuine sound of his voice. Don't fall for it. He doesn't mean it. But she could feel her determination faltering by his simple touch.

He felt it the second her resolve wavered and wasted no time using it to his advantage. "Please forgive me, Peyton," he whispered. "I miss you so much," he continued, gently cupping her cheek with one large hand. "Do you miss me?"

Her emotions getting the best of her, the tears she'd been desperately holding back came pouring down her cheeks helplessly.

As soon as Nathan saw them, he knew he had her. Just a few minutes more and he'd be holding her in his arms again. He'd be able to kiss those full, pouty lips. "Do you, Peyton?" he pressed. "Do you miss me?

Nearly choking on the sob that was strangled in her throat, she replied meekly. "It doesn't matter."

"It does," he countered, lifting his left hand to cup her other cheek, so that he held both sides of her face, and tilting her head up. He could feel her body slumping, giving up her fight. "I love you," he said, tenderly wiping her tears with his thumbs. Not that it made a difference since they continued their steady stream. "Just give me another chance," he pleaded. "I swear it'll be different this time."

She stared at him longingly, her eyes searching his for the truth. "You always say that," she whispered. "But it never is."

"Peyton, I promise," he insisted, knowing he was so close to convincing her, yet wanting it to be this very second. "Say you forgive me." He bent to press a soft kiss on her lips. "Do you?" he asked, pulling away to meet her eyes once more.

The intensity of his gaze had been enough to send her senses astray, but with one touch of his lips against hers, she was completely lost. Against her better judgment, all she could do was nod. As always her heart had won almost immediately. She didn't know why she even bothered putting up her ridiculous pretext of a fight. She always meant to stay strong and refuse Nathan, but he always knew what to do. He always won. And always so quickly, it was almost embarrassing.

He smiled at her response, before bringing his mouth down to hers for a long, impassioned kiss.

She didn't even notice that he'd undone all the buttons of her blouse until he was slipping it off her shoulders. Desperate for the skin-to-skin contact, she tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up. His lips parted from hers long enough to slip the shirt off over his head, and then quickly reclaimed them, pressing her body tightly against his.

One thing came to her mind before passion, longing, and desire took over, erasing all traces of rational thought.

Here we go again.

A/N: I know, I know, you all want to smack me upside the head right? Ok, go for it. I put my helmet on. I put one on Nathan and Peyton too, just in case. LOL.