A/N: Hiya guys. Here's the next chapter. (Three more then the epilogue) Hope you like it. It's a pretty long one, and there is a bit of smut in it so I'm sorry for anyone who doesn't like that. I just found it was necessary to get certain feelings and thought processes across. As usual, thank you all who have stuck to this story, and reviewers, you're the best. Love ya.
...
"So, tell me again why we think this is a good idea," Lucas said from the backseat of Nathan's car.
Nathan glanced at his half-brother through the rear-view mirror. "We don't," he answered blithely. "She does," he added of the blonde beside him, who, in turn, rolled her eyes at her boyfriend.
"And she," Lucas stated, indicating his own girlfriend beside him, who, upon learning of the other couple's plan to visit the prison, had insisted they come along.
Haley shook her head. The boys didn't understand the girls' compulsion to do this—to face the man who had turned their lives upside down for his own agenda. They said they understood, and she could acknowledge that they thought they did.
But they didn't. This was something she and Peyton had to do even though they both had trouble explaining their reasoning.
She couldn't complain about the boys though. They may not fully get it, but they were here, going along on a journey their girls deemed necessary. Haley felt fortunate for their support, and not the least bit put off by their grumbling.
Peyton, she noticed, seemed to be on the same page on that, though the blonde did comment a little defensively that the boys could be dropped off anytime while the girls carried on their way alone.
Nathan, in response, chuckled and told her it was his car, and he was driving, and good luck getting rid of them.
He glanced over to gauge his girlfriend's reaction, only to have her yell at him for an entirely different reason when the car in front of him—a car he was following much too closely—suddenly braked.
Nathan slammed on his own brakes just inches short of rear ending the other vehicle.
In the backseat, Lucas and Haley's hearts jumped to their throats, and not for the first time since they'd left for this trip either. They were quickly learning how reckless of a driver Nathan was.
In the front seat, Peyton was barely fazed, and following the initial panic, simply chuckled lightly and told him to quit looking at her and pay attention to the road. It seemed she was quite used to riding in a car with him, and her concerns didn't go beyond the exact instant of a possible crash. Even when he cursed impatiently at the slow moving car in front in him—which wasn't all that slow moving—and dashed into the passing lane with what could nowhere near be considered enough room in Lucas and Haley's eyes, Peyton didn't flinch.
Why the blonde didn't fear for her life was beyond them, but they certainly felt they'd be lucky to make it to the prison alive. They were more than a little relieved when they pulled onto a less busy street, where no one was in front of them or beside them. There were a few cars behind them but that mattered none at all. At the speed Nathan drove, they'd never catch up.
They made it to the prison—normally a two hour drive—thirty-five minutes ahead of schedule. Now that was damn good time. Both Nathan and Peyton said so. Lucas and Haley simply exchanged glances, both able to breathe regularly now that the car was parked.
...
Peyton subconsciously chewed on her thumb nail as they made their way to the front doors.
"You ok?" Nathan asked as he slipped his arm around her waist. Her face had gone a ghostly white, and she walked at a snail's pace.
She nodded but it was without conviction. She was far from okay.
"We don't have to do this," Nathan told her, noticing. "We can just turn around and go home."
"No," she replied with a firm shake of her head. "I have to."
Lucas too was voicing the same concerns to Haley, though she didn't appear to be as shaken as Peyton did. But he knew better. Haley tried to put on a brave face, but inside he knew she was just as nervous as the blonde was.
The girls, however, insisted they go on in, that they could do this, leaving their boys no choice but to escort them.
To their surprise, they were stopped at the gate and patted down before being allowed to continue on their way to the building. When given the okay to go on, they entered what they assumed was the front office, and were greeted, rather coldly, by a woman sitting behind a desk. They couldn't help notice that even the office was heavily guarded.
In addition to the surprise of being bodily inspected, they were further shocked when, upon telling the woman their purpose for being there, they were asked if they were on Mr. West's approved visiting list. The foursome stared at her blankly, not having heard of this. Finally, the woman asked each of their names, pushed a few buttons on her computer, and confirmed that they were not on the list.
And then they were turned away.
They tried to argue and convince the woman to allow them this one visit, stating they wouldn't be back ever again, but their efforts were in vain. She wouldn't budge, not even when the kids got impatient and rowdy.
"Fine!" Peyton finally snapped. "How do we get on this list?"
Her thin lips forming a straight line, the woman heaved a sigh and began a rather dull explanation of the process to be followed. "The inmate is given a visitor information form when he/she arrives, he/she fills out their portion and mails a copy to each potential visitor. When that potential visitor receives it, he/she then fills out the remaining fields and sends it back to the prisoner's address listed on the form to be approved by the B.O.P. Then, and only then, is a person allowed to visit the prisoner."
"What's the B.O.P?" Haley questioned.
The woman gave Haley the most superior of looks, as though her question were simply ridiculous. "The Federal Bureau of Prison," she said haughtily.
"Oh, of course," Haley shrunk back, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear and feeling rather foolish now. She was always the smart girl; she wasn't used to feeling dumb, or being made to feel dumb.
"So, you guys," Nathan pointed out, matching the woman's snippy tone.
"Essentially, yes," the grumpy woman returned, rather than explaining the entire prison system to these clueless teenagers.
"Well, wait," Haley piped up again, the wheels in her head turning. "Shouldn't it be called the F.B.O.P. then since...?"
"Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"Anything else?" Lucas scoffed. "That implies you helped us in the first place," he said, using the same snarky tone Nathan had. He didn't appreciate how she spoke to them, particularly Haley, like they were all a bunch of stupid kids.
In truth, that was exactly what the woman thought of them. Did they really think they could just waltz into a federal prison and visit? They clearly watched too much television—where it was common for just anyone to show up and be granted access—if they thought that. She really didn't have time for such ignorance, whether by teens or adults. "I'm sorry," she said, not sounding sorry at all, "but we must follow protocol," she added, gesturing toward the same door they'd entered to indicate they now use it to exit.
Nothing left to do, they followed the silent order.
"What a bitch!" Haley exclaimed as they slowly made their way back to the car.
Nathan looked around, first at Haley, then at Peyton and Lucas. Was he the only one caught off guard by the slur coming out of Haley's mouth? Apparently so. The other two certainly didn't seem the least bit surprised. Apparently Haley had a mouth on her when she wanted.
Despite his surprise though, he agreed with her assessment, as did Peyton and Lucas. "Tell me about it," he said. "I mean, it's not like we've been here before. How are we supposed to know the rules? People visit inmates all the time on TV."
Haley couldn't help but laugh at his comment. "That's your argument?" she scoffed. "They do it on TV?"
"Shut up," he returned lightly.
"We should have guessed there would be some kind of policy," Haley said next.
"All I know is this trip was a colossal waste of time," Peyton said glumly.
Nathan snaked an arm over her shoulder. "I'm sorry, babe," he said sympathetically.
"No, it's not your fault," she replied, leaning into him. "Haley's right. We should have checked into it before driving all the way down here. I'm sorry I wasted all of your guys' time."
"Your time too," Luke countered, to which Nathan and Haley nodded agreeably.
"But it was my idea, and now we've all just wasted a perfectly good afternoon."
"At least we wasted it together," Nathan piped up sweetly.
"Aww," Haley couldn't help but coo.
"You didn't even want to come," Peyton continued. "I made you."
"No, you convinced me," he countered.
"Really?" she turned on him. "Your ego can't handle a minor word mix up?"
"Hey," Nathan instantly snapped back. "I know you're pissed, but don't take it out on me. It's not my fault we can't go in."
Just as instantly, she regretted the sharp comment and sighed deeply. "I know," she admitted. "I'm sorry."
He shrugged in response, already letting it go.
"It just doesn't make sense. You know?" Peyton went on. "We're his victims. Shouldn't we be allowed to confront him?"
"I think that's what the trial is for," Haley said. "Which none of us showed up to so...Anyway," she continued. "We're not the victims, Peyton. We're the survivors. Remember that."
Peyton smiled at that. "Survivors," she rolled around her tongue. "I like it."
"Thanks," Haley replied. "They teach it in counseling."
"You're in counseling?" Peyton asked her.
"I was when...uh, when everything first happened."
"Did it help you?" Nathan asked, and Peyton rolled her eyes. She knew why he asked.
"Yeah, it did," Haley answered. "It was my lifeline, along with Luke and my family, of course."
Peyton sent the other girl a brief smile but made no comment on the topic.
She did, however, prefer the idea of being a survivor over a victim, which is the reason she smiled. It occurred to her then that they were all survivors. All four of them. She took her boyfriend's hand. "I'm glad you survived," she told him coyly. "Cause I kinda like you."
He grinned. Drastic mood change—that was his girl. He winked at her and placed a kiss on her lips. "I'm kinda crazy about you too," he returned. "Plus, you're kinda hot," he added, which now made her giggle and playfully swat him away.
"And who cares that we didn't get to see Damien, right?" Peyton said. "I mean, seriously, why would we even want to? Why let him know we think about him at all still?"
"Right," the other three said in unison. Let Damien think they'd forgotten all about him as though he were insignificant and hadn't made an impact on their lives whatsoever.
They were all in agreement about that.
"Of course, that still means a wasted trip," Peyton pointed out.
"Not necessarily," Haley said. "I mean, look at us. How often have the four of us gotten to hang out?"
"Like, never," Nathan said. He'd hated Luke before. He'd never have considered hanging out with the guy. And vice versa, he was sure.
"Exactly," Haley stated. "So no, as far as I'm concerned, this was far from a wasted trip."
"And if we'd like to really make a day of it," Lucas commented, "I saw signs for a carnival a few miles down the road that I wouldn't mind checking out. Anyone else?"
"I'm game," Haley returned with excitement. "If you two are, of course," she added to Nathan and Peyton, their mode of transportation.
"What do you think?" Peyton asked her boyfriend suggestively. "Wanna go on a roller coaster ride with me?"
He chuckled. Their whole relationship had been a roller coaster ride. "Depends," he said.
"On?"
"You planning on stealing any more plushies when we get to the games?" he asked, reminding her of when they'd just begun dating. "Cause with my track record with the law lately, I don't think I can be your accessory this time."
"What?" Haley asked with humor, so Nathan recounted the story.
Flashback (already shown as a flashback from chapter 51)
Peyton smiled as Nathan put his basketball skills to use, easily landing the last of the foam balls into the tiny, plastic basket provided – a feat seldom accomplished. The boy did like to show off, she thought as she took in his smug grin.
So far it had been an amazing day. They'd ridden every ride, some repeatedly, and though it was a blast, she'd needed a break from all the spinning, dropping, and flipping upside down so they'd bought a couple of hot dogs and found a bench to sit and eat at. Then they'd gone for the cotton candy and decided to play some of the games.
"Nice work!" the attendant working the game said enthusiastically. "Which one?" he asked, indicating the array of large stuffed animals with a swift hand motion.
Nathan glanced over at Peyton and shrugged his shoulders. "Which one you want?"
She bit her bottom lip nervously, hoping that telling him she wasn't really into over-sized teddy bears wouldn't be a huge blow to his equally over-sized ego. "I actually prefer the small ones."
He smirked at her and spoke low. "We're still talking plushies I hope. Otherwise…"
He let the remark trail off and chuckled when her face turned a cute crimson red. And Brooke had told him she didn't embarrass easily. What did she know?
Peyton looked down a moment to hide her burning cheeks. She'd been worried about hurting his ego? Was that even possible? In any case, it was still very much intact.
Nathan turned his attention back to the guy in front of him. "Ok, Freddie," he said, reading the nametag he wore. "We'll take two of the small ones instead."
"I'm afraid I can't do that," Freddie stated.
"What do you…" Nathan began.
"It's fine," Peyton cut him off. "One is enough. That one," she finished, pointing to her selection.
"No, you don't understand," Freddie continued. "You must choose from among these," he said, once again indicating the larger bears.
"You're kidding, right?" Nathan scoffed in disbelief. No way this guy was serious.
"No, I'm not kidding. You made all the shots so you get one of these," the older man said, annoyance seeping through his speech. "Those are the rules."
"Dude, screw the rules. She wants a little one."
But Freddie was adamant and wasn't budging.
"Ok, this is ridiculous," Peyton piped up impatiently. "You'd obviously be getting the better deal."
"I'm sorry, perhaps you'd like to play again for another chance at your preferred selection."
Peyton's jaw dropped. He was seriously suggesting they pay to play again? Was this guy on drugs? "No, no," she replied stubbornly. "Perhaps you'd like to stop being a total jackass and just give me the damn bear I picked."
Nathan raised an eyebrow and did nothing to hide his impressed smirk. Damn, this girl didn't take no shit. No wonder she and Brooke were friends. As much as he hated to give in to losers like this attendant, he'd been just about to pull out another ticket and play again just so Peyton wouldn't think he was cheap. But, he must say, he much preferred Peyton's choice of action.
Freddie's face went red with rage and following a few more insults between the three, he threatened to call security if Nathan and Peyton didn't leave.
"Fine, we'll go," Peyton said, seemingly giving up.
Nathan was a bit disappointed until he caught the mischievous glint in her eyes. She gave him an almost imperceptible nod and he knew she was trying to communicate with him, but he had no clue what she was trying to tell him. Until she raced behind the table, snatched her little bear, grabbed his hand and broke out in a run across the park.
"I'm so glad I decided against heels," she mentioned flippantly as they sped off in Nathan's car. She turned to glance behind her. "They're gaining on us. Maybe I should drive." She didn't realize that that right there was a bigger ego blow than her dislike for large plushies. "Nevermind," she changed her tune as his foot pressed down on the gas pedal. He had it.
End of Flashback
Lucas and Haley were laughing uncontrollably by the time Nathan finished telling the story.
Peyton also laughed at their silly antics. "That was a good day," she said dreamily.
"Yeah," Nathan agreed. "It's the same day we officially became us."
"You remembered," she said with a soft sigh, her heart melting.
"I told you, babe, I remember a lot more than you think I do," he said, both their minds drifting back to that time, although they didn't tell the story aloud this time.
Flashback (continued flashback from chapter 51)
"So, I've always had a thing for badass cheerleaders, but this is a new one," he commented with amusement once they'd pulled into her driveway.
That's when embarrassment set in. "Oh, I'm sorry…"
"Don't be," he said, winking at her. "That was hot," he added, leaning over and giving her a kiss.
"Of course you'd think so," she came back with, rolling her eyes. "But, for the record, I don't normally go around stealing stuff."
"So the Bonnie and Clyde move isn't common practice?" he teased.
"No, absolutely not," she said firmly.
"Really? Because I remember Brooke telling me that every year on her birthday you…"
"Shut up!" she shouted, her voice a notch higher than usual. "That so doesn't count. We always went back and paid for it when Brooke wasn't around. And technically this little guy's paid for too," she added, holding up the little bear. "But I'm sorry that I involved you."
He simply shrugged carelessly as they stepped out of the car and headed up the walkway to her front door. "It's cool. I don't mind playing Clyde for you. We can serve our prison sentences together."
"Well, you know, men tend to go away longer than women do so I'd probably get out before you."
He frowned. "Discrimination against men right there."
"Got a problem with it?"
"Hell yeah. If it's the same crime…"
She patted his chest as though to placate him. "Take it up with the legal system," she told him with a shrug. "I don't make the rules, I just…well, I don't make them."
He chuckled and pulled her into his arms, looking down at her beautiful face. They may have only begun dating a few weeks ago, but he could already tell by the unfamiliar feelings stirring within him that he was going to fall hard for her. He bent his head and graced her with a lingering kiss, a gesture she both welcomed and returned.
"Can I come in?" he asked hoarsely when they pulled away.
She bit the inside of her cheek with anxiety. She knew what he was asking. She hadn't invited him inside before for this specific reason. She'd heard all the stories. She knew what he was about. And she wasn't ready for that, no matter how much her body screamed otherwise. She took a deep, calming breath before fixing her emerald gaze on his hopeful blue one. "If coming in doesn't come with the automatic expectation of sex, then yeah."
He sighed and looked away. Truth was, he had expected that by now…Hell, with most girls he'd already had them enough times to tire of them by this point.
"Alright, I'm gonna be straight with you," Peyton said, taking in his telling expression. "I'm not ready for sex and I don't know when I will be. So if you want to be with me, then you're gonna have to wait. I know you're not used to that, but that's the deal. If you're not willing to…"
"Be my girlfriend," he said before he could even think about it, let alone stop himself.
"What?" She wasn't sure what she'd expected him to do, but she'd have believed him running the other way over this.
"I like you, Peyton," he said earnestly. "And not just because you're hot. You're different than other girls and…I like spending time with you."
She opened her mouth to speak but fell silent.
He mistook it and pulled back. "Ok, I guess I can take a hint. You're not really into me."
"Nathan…"
"Nah, it's cool. I'll just…I'll get out of your way."
Was that a trace of insecurity she heard in his voice and saw in his eyes? It was gone in an instant but she was sure she'd seen it. "Wait," she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him back to her. "I am into you," she admitted. "I'm so into you it's insane."
"So then, be my girl," he repeated. "Ok?"
She smiled and bobbed her head up and down. "Ok."
He grinned back at her and came in for another searing kiss.
"But this doesn't change anything," she warned.
"No, it changes everything."
"I mean I'm still not ready to sleep with you."
"So I'll wait," he promised, not quite sure what he was getting himself into, yet knowing he wanted this girl. "Besides, you'll cave eventually. Right?"
Still smiling, she took his hand and led him inside. "Come on, I hear there's a Friends marathon on tonight."
He didn't mention that he wasn't crazy about that series, he just followed her. "So, you are gonna visit me if you get out before me, right?"
She lifted her shoulder in a show of mock indecision. "I'll think about it."
End of Flashback
"I'm in," Nathan said, and that decided it. They were going to the carnival.
...
They didn't want to leave, but it was getting dark and the festival was closing up for the evening, leaving them no choice. It had been an amazing day for them all, laughing, giggling and goofing around like regular teenagers, making them forget for a while all the stresses that had been dumped on them. Today they got to just be kids, and that was the greatest feeling in the world.
They were all still chuckling merrily as they reached the vehicle. And Lucas felt a sense of relief when Peyton offered to drive home and Nathan accepted the offer.
"Don't breathe just yet," Haley mumbled in his ear so as the other two wouldn't hear. "She's not any better."
She knew that because of that benefit concert she'd gone to with Peyton. Sure, it was a while since then, but she clearly remembered several incidents of nearly swallowing her heart during both the trip there and the trip back.
Luke scoffed at her. Yes, he remembered when Peyton had driven through all those red lights but he'd figured that was an isolated incident because she'd been so upset on that day—the anniversary of her mother's death. "Can't be any worse," Luke muttered back.
Haley just gave him a look. He'd see.
And he did. No, she didn't run any red lights this time, but, like Nathan, she drove much too fast, cut cars off with mere inches of space, and didn't always keep her eyes on the road.
She wasn't worse than Nathan, but she was, as Haley had stated, just as bad. And once again, the two in the backseat held their breath, praying for their safe return.
Nathan, as Peyton had been when he was driving, remained calm and completely unfazed.
Lucas and Haley couldn't help but think that one of these days one of them was going to kill somebody.
Luckily, today wasn't that day. Peyton pulled into the driveway of Nathan's beach house where they'd all agreed to go because they weren't ready to call it a night just yet.
While there, they blared the stereo, ordered food, and played a few games. Nathan and Peyton even managed to talk the other couple into having a couple of drinks. They needed those drinks anyway to calm their frazzled nerves after that ride from hell back.
It wasn't long before Nathan suggested to Peyton that they head up to bed, and he suggested it because he was buzzed and he was horny. They'd been heavily making out for the past several minutes—if Brooke were there, she'd tell the other couple that they would have to get used to that from Nathan and Peyton—and now he wanted to be alone with his got girlfriend. He wanted his blowjob, which had become a daily thing since he'd come back from Cooper's six days ago.
He wouldn't lie and say he wouldn't like more than that—mostly because she never allowed him to touch her in the process—but he still loved the oral sex she provided. Apparently she loved it too so who was he to complain? As his uncle had suggested last week, he'd take whatever she felt comfortable giving.
He turned to his 'guests' now. "So all the bedrooms are upstairs," he said. "I don't know if you want one or two," he continued as the couple exchanged worrisome glances. "It's up to you. There's lots of them so you can pick whatever ones you want. Except my room," he said with a boyish grin before bounding up the stairs after Peyton.
...
"So, we're supposed to guess which one is his room," Lucas whispered when they went up shortly after, only half joking. It wasn't like either of them had ever been here before.
"I suppose so," Haley laughed quietly. The popular couple were equally bad hosts as drivers, she thought but didn't say. It occurred to her that whichever door was closed was his bedroom, but it didn't help that they were all closed.
They weren't kept guessing long though when a deep growl of pleasure was heard directly across the one they stood at.
Lucas gave Haley a look that clearly stated, 'I'm guessing it's that one,' and Haley nodded in agreement, covering her mouth to stifle a giggle.
Another low grunt along with soft murmuring and Haley was pulling Lucas along with her to the other end of the hallway and into one of the bedrooms down there.
As soon as the door closed behind them, they burst into embarrassed laughter. For Haley, that quickly turned into feelings of awkwardness and self-consciousness.
Because while the other people in the house were clearly getting their groove on, they weren't. And never had. Because of her. She was the one holding off, making them wait, and she wondered if Lucas felt deprived at all.
She felt a sudden surge of guilt and an urge to stop making him wait for what most kids their age were already doing—what the other couple was doing. Why should they be different than anyone else?
With that in mind, she pulled off her t-shirt, revealing a lacy chemise underneath.
His eyes widened at the sight before him. "Hales?" he called out in confusion.
"I love you, Luke," she told him. "And I don't want to wait anymore. I'm ready."
"I thought you wanted to wait until your wedding night," he said.
"Yeah, well, things change."
As much as he longed to take advantage, he couldn't do it. He knew it was probably the booze talking, and because of that, he helped her back into her shirt.
She looked so incredibly hurt by the gesture that he could have cried. He certainly hadn't meant to hurt her, but she was half drunk and if he took advantage of that, he'd never forgive himself. And come morning, she probably wouldn't either.
He re-iterated her vow to wait until marriage, and told her that's what he wanted too. With her.
It took a bit of convincing, but because she was smart despite being a bit tipsy, and he was good with words, he finally got her to understand that though he really wanted her, he didn't want to break her trust like that.
He brought her over to the bed where he could, at least, hold her. It shouldn't be a big deal, he thought. They'd slept in the same bed plenty of times while they were growing up.
He quickly found out how wrong he was, for while she passed out in no time, he lay there for several moments, still fully aroused, and wondering if he'd made the wrong move.
No. He knew in his mind he'd done the right thing by refusing her advances. His body wasn't quite convinced though.
...
She heard the deep groan escape his lips, and she smiled a little. She knew she was pleasing him. He liked what she was doing with her mouth.
She liked it too. It made her feel almost whole again—like a desirable woman capable of pleasuring her man.
The only downfall was knowing that he wanted more than just a blowjob or a hand job. As much as he enjoyed the two, she knew he wanted to touch her too. He wanted what they used to have. He wanted everything.
She knew that because all week during oral sex, she'd had to hold his hand down from traveling up her thighs, or her ass, her breasts, her womanly core. He never fought it, but it was clear to her what she was giving him would not sustain him for long.
It wasn't enough for him.
She desperately wanted to give him the more he wanted. She'd thought confronting Damien today might be what she needed to finally let go of what he did to her and allow her to give herself fully to her fiancé.
But those plans had been foiled, her confidence right along with it.
Even so, like the last time she'd drank, she was feeling a little braver about how far she could go. Or perhaps it was just her determination to be the woman Nathan needed. Whatever the reason, she didn't stop his hands tonight. She allowed them to go wherever they wanted, touch every part of her.
The memories of Damien came swiftly, but she turned off the lamp and shut her eyes tightly in an attempt to wade them off. Tonight she would give Nathan all he longed for, even if it killed her.
As per usual, one hand rested on her head as his fingers tangled in her hair, occasionally pushing her head down just the slightest bit. His other hand traveled her body, his own body awakening all the more when she didn't stop him this time. He let out a cry of satisfaction. Fuck, it felt good to touch her again. To feel her skin beneath his calloused fingers.
But she wasn't responding quite as she used to. She was a little tense, but his buzzed brain didn't think to wonder why. It only knew the touch of her and how good it felt. "I want you so bad," he muttered breathily as he manoeuvred their positions so that she lay beneath him.
He reached for a condom, tearing it open with his teeth and slipping it on.
She was in tears long before he entered her, but she was determined to go through with this, forcing herself to concentrate on the fact that this was Nathan inside her, pumping into her at a rapid pace and grunting in pleasure. It was Nathan. Not Damien. Nathan.
Now her lack of response was getting to him. He drove in and out of what was beginning to feel like a stiff board. It felt good still—Peyton always felt good—but he was used to her eager participation whenever they had sex. Tonight it looked like he would have to do some coaxing to get her into it.
Still inside her, he reached between them to rub the ultra-sensitive folds above. That always drove her wild. But this time she neither cried out in ecstasy nor writhed violently beneath him.
So he tried another approach, moving his hand to caress a firm breast, gently squeezing its bud between his thumb and index finger.
Nothing.
"Fuck, Peyton," he mumbled in complaint. "What's with you tonight?" He was very near losing his erection in frustration. Near, but not quite.
"What? What's wrong?" she asked softly, her mind so focused on giving Nathan what she thought he wanted and needed that she wasn't even aware how very still her body had gone.
He didn't answer, just continued his rhythmic motion as another idea to draw a reaction from her struck him. That sweet spot on her neck that always got her going. Granted he should have started there first—maybe she just wasn't ready yet—but he'd been so damn anxious.
He could only see her silhouette in the darkness of the room, but it was enough to guide him to her lips to start, remaining inside her all the while.
He pressed his lips onto hers, intending to go from there to her neck. He didn't get there.
The moment his lips touched her face he could taste the salt of her tears.
Guilt instantly gripping him, he pulled out of her and moved to the edge of the bed, rubbing his hands roughly over his face. "Ahh, fuck Peyton, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"No, Nate, it's ok," she said, also sitting up and touching his arm. He was shaking. She was shaking too. "I want this."
"You want this?" he repeated incredulously. "You're fucking crying, Peyton."
It came out harsh, like he was angry. He was. Not at her, at himself. How long had she been sobbing while he was busy getting off and being annoyed that she wasn't responding the way he wanted? What the hell was wrong with him? If he could punch himself, he would. He would knock himself out cold. Damn it, why did he always have to be so damn selfish?
"I'm sorry," he choked, nearly in tears himself as he stood to his feet and began to dress.
"Stop saying that," Peyton cried out. "I'm the one who's sorry."
"You?" he croaked. "Why? You didn't do anything wrong."
"Well, I didn't do anything right either, did I? I can't even please my own fiancé in bed."
He finished dressing and came back to the bed, flicking on the light as he did so. Her tears, he noticed, fell in streams down her cheeks. He cursed himself once more, feeling even worse than he already did, and he reached out to wrap his arms around her trembling body. "Hey, don't say that," he ordered softly.
"Why not? It's true."
"It's not," he argued.
"Don't lie, Nate," she returned. "You weren't enjoying this. Or else you wouldn't have complained."
"I enjoyed the blowjob," he replied, then instantly wished he could take it back. Why would he say that to her right now? Idiot. But he didn't know what else to say.
"And that's great, Nate," she sobbed. At least she got something right. "But it's not enough for you. I thought maybe it could be for now, but..."
"It can," he cut her off. "It is."
"It's not," she argued. "I know you want more and I should be able to give it to you. You deserve more than a fiancé who can only take you halfway."
He frowned. "You take me all the way every single time."
"Stop it! I don't! I think of how our sex life used to be and how it's deteriorated so much from then just because I can't get out of my own head."
"Baby, it's ok. We'll get it back."
"It's not ok, and what if we don't get it back?" she asked him. "I thought seeing Damien today could give me some closure and make me better, but that didn't turn out, and now I don't know what to do. I hate that I'm failing you as a girlfriend and as a lover."
"If that's what you think, then you're giving Damien way too much fucking power. You're not failing me, Peyton. You never could."
"You're not getting what you need from me," she pressed on. "If you were, I wouldn't have had to hold your hand down all week to keep you from touching me. You want to touch me, and you should be allowed to. You should be able to have sex with your fiancé without her having a freaking panic attack or a sob fest."
He swallowed the lump in his throat. It was his fault she felt like this. "Peyton, I'm sorry that me wanting you makes you feel so bad. I didn't mean to do that. I just..."
"No, don't feel guilty for wanting me," she returned. "Or sex in general," she added. "It's only natural that you would. We always had a more than healthy sex life, you and me. Now I have all these issues and you have to suffer for them."
He shook his head in disbelief. "If either of us is suffering, it's you," he said. "But I understand, ok? And I shouldn't be pushing you. I wasn't trying to..."
"You haven't," she assured him. "You have a healthy, sexual appetite, and that's ok. What's not ok is that I can't fulfill it. I want to. God, I so badly want to, but I can't, and I'm sorry for that."
"Don't be," he said sternly. "You're giving what you can, which is more than I should even expect so..."
"No, you should expect that your future wife can satisfy you in bed, and before you tell me again that you understand, the thing is I don't want you to understand. I want you to be sexually content. You shouldn't have to do without sex because of my stupid issues. That's not fair to you."
"They're not stupid..."
"Until I can sort things out in my head," she cut him off, "I want you to feel free to hook up with other girls," she said, nearly choking on the words.
He sat and stared at her for a long while, sure he had heard her wrong. "What?"
"Just until I get my act together," she repeated. "I only ask that you don't share the details with me. I don't wanna know when it's happening or who with, nothing." She couldn't handle that.
He hadn't heard wrong. "Peyton, what the fuck?" he couldn't help asking, dumbfounded by her suggestion. It was crazy.
"It's ok, Nathan," she said with assurance. "Go be a normal, horny seventeen year old guy. Go have lots of sex like you're used to and deserve to still have. Don't get bogged down by your train wreck of a girlfriend who you can't even touch without making her break down."
This was unbelievable. She couldn't seriously be saying these things to him. "You're breaking up with me?" he asked, his heart dropping at the very prospect.
"No. No!" she quickly denied. "We'll still be together, but you can still be with other girls until I'm able to fill that role again."
He didn't say anything for the longest time, trying to process all she was telling him. The shock of it all reflected clearly on his face. "This is what you want?" he finally asked.
It wasn't. Of course, it wasn't. But it was what she needed to stop the guilt that nearly suffocated her every time she couldn't give him what he needed. Nathan was, and always had been since they'd first met, a highly sexual being. She couldn't be the one who suppressed that part of him.
Yes, it killed her to tell him to go be with other girls, but as long as she remained how she was now, unable to give herself wholly to him, she didn't see any other options.
She shrugged her shoulders and tried to sound casual. "Just cause I'm mess shouldn't mean you can't get laid."
"Right," he muttered, not knowing what else to say. It seemed she really was serious, and he was now free to go cheat on her whenever he wanted. He had not only her permission, but her fucking blessing. Would it even still be considered cheating in that case?
He stood from the bed and went to the door.
"Nathan," she called for him.
He turned to face her again, his hand on the door handle.
"Where you going?" she asked. They weren't done talking yet. He had yet to tell her what he thought of her idea. A big part of her wanted him to reject it completely even though she couldn't see any other way to be fair to him.
"For a walk," he replied dryly. "I'd tell you where, but you don't wanna know," he added before slipping out.
She stared, mouth agape, at the closed door. Had he just implied what she thought he implied? Unbelievable. It was as if he'd just been waiting for the green light to go screw around. She stood up and quickly wrapped the sheet around her, going out the door he'd just left through, rushing to the top of the stairs. "I didn't mean you had to go do it right now!" she hollered.
"No time like the present," he threw over his shoulder.
Her jaw dropped. That is where he was going. In her own anger, she failed to hear his in his tone. "Make sure you wear a condom, jackass!"
"I will."
"You know, the whole point of not telling me is so I won't know when it happens," she screamed. "Kinda pointless if you're gonna hint at it anyway!"
The only response she got from that was the sound of the front door slamming behind him.
She went back to her—his—room and flopped down on the bed, a new stream of tears flooding her eyes. Damn it, she said she didn't want to know when he hooked up with someone else, let alone when he was just about to. It was hard enough just giving him her consent without knowing exactly when it was occurring. The least he could have done was use a little subtlety like he had so very often before when he'd been constantly cheating.
Asshole!
...
"Should we go check on her?" Lucas asked, he and Haley awakened by the shouting.
"Umm, I don't know," Haley replied. "She sounded pretty pissed. We might want to steer clear until she cools off."
"Yeah, maybe you're right."
"Did you hear what she said?" Haley asked.
"Make sure you wear a condom," Luke answered. "Hear what he said back?"
"I will," they both said in unison.
Haley shook her head gravely. "I have this horrible feeling that he's really pushing her for sex, and it's not right. Why can't he be more like you?" she wondered aloud. "Peyton needs his support through this, not more pressure. Doesn't he understand that?"
"In his defence, he's been drinking," Luke said.
"That is so not an excuse," Haley huffed. "And it's not like he was drunk."
"I know, just saying..."
"He was asking me about it at Brooke's party," she told Luke.
"What's that?"
"Sex," she replied. "He basically wanted to know how long he'd be kept waiting. He looked a little freaked out when I told him it took some rape victims years to be ready."
"I'll bet," Lucas remarked. "But, you know, we don't know that it's sex they're fighting about. I mean, you and I heard what we heard earlier. They were clearly...getting busy...so maybe they've moved past the sex stuff and are actually fighting about something else entirely."
"Maybe," Haley conceded. "They are known for their all out, knock down screaming matches and full on temper tantrums. Let's never cause so much drama for ourselves, ok?"
"No argument here," he jested.
"But if it's not about sex," Haley began again, her curiosity piqued, "then what's the condom reference about?"
"I think it's that she doesn't trust him still," Luke returned reasonably, recalling how, at Brooke's party, Peyton herself had brought up the amount of times Nathan had cheated on her. "I'm guessing she's scared he's gonna screw around every time they have an argument."
"And who can blame her, considering how many times he has?" Haley returned. "Not to mention he outright just admitted that he's going to again."
"I don't know," Lucas pondered. "Peyton told me herself he's been better with that..."
"Better or better at hiding it?"
"She said he gets pissed whenever she doubts him now. Could be he was just reacting to her accusation because he's sick of it."
"So instead of reassuring her, he sparks the flame even more?"
"Maybe he's tired of reassuring her."
"Well, if that's the case, then he should realize that her suspicions are warranted. If he'd been true to her from the start, she wouldn't suspect him."
"Again, we don't know what they're arguing about. We could be way off base."
"I know what I heard," Haley returned. "He's off to go get laid by someone who isn't Peyton. You and I both know that, and so does she."
"We don't know it for a fact," Luke argued.
Haley chuckled at his insistence to stick up for his brother. Not too long ago that would have never happened. "Drinking the Nathan Scott Kool-aid, I see."
"It's not that, Hales," Lucas returned, a bit put off by the comment. "I just think he deserves the benefit of the doubt instead of you and me sitting here making assumptions about something we may know nothing about."
Haley laughed at him. "Luke, I know you two have grown closer lately. He and I talk more than we ever have too. But he's still Nathan Scott."
"What does that mean?"
"That just because you're getting along with him now doesn't mean he's changed his ways when it comes to women."
"I'm not saying he has or he hasn't," Luke replied defensively. "I'm just saying we don't know what happened. And Peyton seems to believe he has changed."
"Well, judging by their parting words, clearly not. To both—he hasn't, and she doesn't believe he has."
"Well, maybe we shouldn't be judging them."
"We're not."
"We are, Hales. You just said so yourself."
"Ok, are we arguing now too?" she questioned.
"I don't want to."
"Neither do I. So let's just agree that whatever's going on with them is their problem, not ours."
"Good idea," he said. "But I still think we should check on her. Make sure she's all right."
"I do too. Let's go."
Two minutes later they came right back after, not surprisingly, being grumpily told to go away. Only not so nicely put.
"Well, that could have gone better," Luke said, plopping back down on the bed.
"Yeah," Haley agreed, climbing in next to him.
...
Here he was in yet another bar, despite his Uncle Cooper's advice to stay out of them just last week.
Last week he'd agreed with his uncle to do just that. It had seemed like such good and sound advice to follow at the time.
But not tonight. He was here and had no intention of leaving until they closed up or they kicked him out.
He was two kinds of pissed right now. Pissed drunk, and pissed mad—the first a result of trying to escape the latter.
It didn't work though. He downed drink after drink trying to forget, but burned in his mind were Peyton's excruciating words before he'd stormed out. They came in bits and pieces now, but they were still there.
Go fuck someone else. That's what she'd said. Ok, not literally those words, but it was all the same.
Six months ago he'd have jumped at the green light to openly mess around.
But this wasn't six months ago, and he didn't jump at it. Not that he didn't try to convince himself to go for it. When he'd first come in, he'd spotted of couple cute girls and immediately began a mild flirtation with them, angrily cursing Peyton all the while. If she wanted to pawn him off on some other chick, then hell, he'd throw it in her face that he'd hooked up with two of them. See how she liked that.
The problem, though, was that he was too furious to get into the playful banter with the girls, and he soon realized that he didn't even want either one of them—or any other one, for that matter. And really, what was the point of flirting if you weren't even having fun doing it?
So he'd blown them off and retreated back to the bar, not even exactly sure what he was so pissed off about. All he knew was he didn't want Peyton's permission to screw around, and he absolutely hated that she'd given it to him.
Another girl boldly wrapped her arms around him, and he jumped at the unexpected gesture.
She offered him a night to remember and smiled when he fumbled in his pocket, taking out his phone, almost dropping it several times as he fished through it to 'show her something' he said.
When he found what he was looking for, he held the phone up to her view. It was a picture of him and Peyton, arms wrapped around each other, both wearing swimwear and breathtaking smiles.
"See that?" he slurred, pointing at Peyton when the girl looked at him in wonder.
The girl nodded. "She's pretty," she said. "She your ex?"
And he smiled because no, she wasn't his ex, and that was something to smile about. "My fiancé," he answered.
"Oh," she said, instantly taking a step backward.
He was much too wasted to notice the respectful gesture. "Yeah so, if I already have her, like the hottest girl alive, why the fuck would I want you?"
Taken aback by the rude remark, she threw her hands up and took a few more steps back. "All you had to say was you were taken," she huffed. "No need to be an asshole about it."
He didn't know why he found that so funny, but he did, and he chuckled when she stormed off. Whatever. It wasn't anything he'd never been called before.
His smile faded when he caught the guy sitting two bar stools away staring at him. "What are you looking at?" he asked, a clear threat in his tone.
"You," the guy freely admitted. "I couldn't help notice the picture," he added. "You two make one hell of a good looking couple."
Nathan nodded, and his smile was back. Well, it was more of a smirk now.
"Makes me wonder why any guy with a girl like that is wasting his time getting drunk in a bar," the guy said. "Take my advice, go home. Trust me, sitting here is how I lost my first wife."
"Your first wife," Nathan mocked. "How many have you had?"
"Three, but we won't get into that. The important thing is you don't make the same mistakes I have. Go be with your girl while you still can."
Nathan ordered another drink instead, and the man just shook his head. The kid was drunk enough.
"Can't talk to her right now," Nathan tried to explain. "We got in a fight. Sort of," he slurred.
"Then go fix it."
Nathan downed his drink and ordered another. "She should fix it," he said. "She's the one being a bitch."
"Now that's no way to talk about the woman you love."
"How do you know I love her?" Nathan challenged. He did, but he was drunkenly curious as to how this stranger could know that.
"Young man," the older man began, "tonight I've seen you turn your back on a possible threesome with a couple of hotties, turn down this other chick just now, and ignore every other female whose eyes have been on you since you walked in." The man paused to chuckle lightly before going on. "In my experience, there are only two reasons a man does that, and since you're engaged to that beautiful girl in the picture, I've ruled out option one that you're gay. That leaves only option two, which is that you're head over heels in love with your sweetheart." He paused again to take a sip of his beer. "So finish your drink," he now said of the whiskey the bartender had just put in front of Nathan, "call a cab, and go make up with her."
Even in his drunken state, Nathan took in most of what the man said—maybe because he talked nice and slow so any idiot could understand—and he suddenly grinned proudly. He had turned down a lot of girls tonight. With Peyton's okay to screw them, he'd turned them down. And it wasn't even hard.
Because he didn't want them. Any of them. If things stayed like this, then staying faithful was going to be easy. Especially once he and Peyton were having sex again.
He took his drink and gulped it down like all the ones before it, and stepped down from the stool. The room spun wildly as he did so, and he had to hang on to the counter top for balance.
Oh fuck, he was way more trashed than he'd thought he was. He was completely hammered.
He thanked his new 'friend' and said he'd walk home, but he couldn't make it two steps without stumbling, so the man called him a cab, and even helped him to it once it arrived.
Sitting in the back of the cab, he stared blankly at his phone, racking his brain trying to remember how to use it to make a call from his contacts. Finally, it came to him and he smiled smugly for it.
"Hello," came the reply when the call went through.
"Hey," Nathan said, not noticing how tired and muffled the voice sounded. "What's up?"
"It's almost two in the morning, Nate. I'm sleeping. What's up with you?"
"I figured it out," Nathan mumbled in response.
"What's that?"
"I wouldn't cheat on Peyton," Nathan replied. "Even if she didn't know."
"That's great, Nate. And the reason you're calling me now is?"
"You said you wanted to know whenever I knew the answer," Nathan replied pointedly.
With a deep sigh, Cooper sat up in bed. He had told his nephew that. He hadn't meant he literally had to call him the very instant clarity hit him, but whatever. Clearly there was some alcohol at play here. "Yes, I did," he admitted.
"Well, now you know," Nathan said. "So, now do you think I'm ready to get married?"
His question was slurred, to be sure, but Cooper also detected the trace of hope in it. What he thought meant a lot to his nephew. It always had. "I do believe so, yes," he said. "Now wipe that goofy grin off your face," he added, knowing it was there, "and call me back in the daylight."
"No, wait," Nathan nearly yelled in fear his uncle was hanging up. "Coop?"
"Yeah?"
"I want you to be my best man. Ok?"
"I'd be happy to, Nate," Cooper said, truly honored. "Now get off the phone before I come down there and kick your ass."
Nathan laughed at him, but nonetheless, ended the call. "Hey, driver," he said next, still feeling pretty chatty. "You ever love a girl so much it hurts?"
The driver didn't answer—mostly because he couldn't make out a word of the incoherent mumbling—so Nathan leaned against the seat.
In the next two minutes it took to get to the beach house, Nathan had already passed out. And there was no waking him when they got there, leaving the annoyed driver with no choice but to go ring the doorbell in hopes that someone was there who could help him drag his customer's drunk ass inside—or at least out of his car—and get his fare.
He didn't expect to find three people on the opposite side, glaring at him warily.
The trio had all heard the bell and simultaneously came out of their prospective bedrooms, meeting each other in the hallway. A quick peek out the upstairs window showed a taxi cab parked in the driveway, and so they decided to go investigate. They figured it was probably Nathan, but they weren't taking any chances.
Peyton, who stood with Haley behind Lucas, had her phone out and ready in case she had to make a quick call.
"Can I help you?" Lucas asked the stranger at the door, all three relieved to discover that it was, indeed, Nathan coming back. Well, unless there was some other dark haired teen who was too drunk to get out and walk. What were the chances?
Lucas and Peyton both went over to help—or drag more so since Nathan didn't help himself much—the younger Scott to the house. The whole way in Nathan kept rambling unintelligibly—something that sounded like 'I love you guys'—but he merely grunted complaintively when they flopped him on the couch, not moving a muscle from the position they'd dropped him in.
The cab driver cleared his throat to gain their attention. "He owes me $12.00 for the trip," he said.
The three sober teens looked from one to the other, shaking their heads. Any money Lucas and Haley had, had been spent at the carnival, and Peyton didn't have a dime.
Peyton rolled her eyes at her oblivious boyfriend before reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. "You better not have spent it all on booze, you dumb-ass," she muttered, but sighed in relief when she found a $20.00 bill. She didn't know what they would have done if they couldn't pay his fare.
As she pulled the bill out, Nathan stirred and reached out to grab her arm. It wasn't exactly a loose hold either, and she noticed his eyes—open now—were practically spitting fire at her. "You're the dumbass," he shot out, surprisingly pretty clear. "I don't wanna fuck someone else," he said next. "Only you."
She eyed him curiously, and she could tell he wanted to say more, but a second later he lost his grip on her arm and was out cold again.
She continued to stare at the boy before her, not even noticing when Haley slid the money from her hand to pay the now beyond annoyed cab driver.
She had the sinking suspicion that he hadn't listened to her tonight, and didn't plan to listen at all. And a battle waged inside her over whether she should be angry by that, or relieved.
Relief seemed to be winning out, except that it put all the pressure back on her.