Never say I'm not a woman of my word. Ladies and gentlemen, its Sunday. Here...is part 3.

If you counted from the very top, there were 43 steps on the Harding family home staircase. The seventh step down creaked somewhat and if you looked really closely at the fourth from the bottom, you could see a chip missing from the old oak where Harry had fallen down them –luckily with a helmet on- trying to prove to his siblings that he could indeed slide down them on snow board eleven years earlier.

They were tiny details, ones that most people would miss. But for Pete Dunham who had refused to let his eyes leave the floor since telling Allie Harding he was in love with her, these were details that would be engrained into his mind until the day he died.

The usually short journey down into the large foyer seemed to take forever, the space of time made larger by the fact that at the stop of the stairs, the girl in question was still silent and unmoving.

Letting him walk away.

Stepping into the kitchen, he stopped dead and took a deep breath in as he was greeted by a very shocked audience. Bovver was staring at him as though he had suddenly grown two heads, Dave was still sat at the breakfast bar with his hands covering his face as he shook his head slowly, Swill was openly gawking at him with Benjamin stood beside him, both hands raised above his head in victory whilst Harry Harding remained frozen to the spot with the fridge door wide open, his hand still on the bottle of orange juice.

And then there was Lara who was staring at him with a smile on her face that to him was full of hope.

How fucking wrong the girl was.

"I uh…" he spoke, his voice as powerful as a clap of thunder in the large room. "I don't suppose I could borrow a jumper, mate?" he nodded towards Harry.

"I don't...you uh…yeah," Harry stuttered, shaking his head. "Of course, um…follow me,"

"Grab me a beer while you're in there," Pete gestured lazily to the fridge.

"Isn't it a little early to be…" Harry trailed off when he caught the look Pete gave him, something between 'kill me now' and 'don't make me kick your arse'.

"Corona, ok?" he swallowed, grabbing one from the inside of the door and holding it out to the blonde who simply took it and uncapped it with his teeth, chucking the cap onto the marble counter before raising his bottle to the rest of the gang and wordlessly heading out into the garden towards the pool house where Harry had taken residence in the past two weeks.

Taking a long sip as he meandered around the colossal pool, his eyes dancing over the marbled surface of the water, Pete laughed quietly to himself.

"Completely fucked, gone with the wind, balls to the wall in love with you?" he murmured, laughing slightly louder as he came to a stop in front of the door to the pool house and banged his forehead against the glass. "Fucking stupid wanker arsehole shithead twat,"

"Easy there, Fabio," Harry reached out and pulled him back slightly, opening the door and ushering him inside. "You don't want to damage that pretty face of yours. Christ knows its not your words that have the ladies swooning,"

He closed the door and leaned against it watching as Pete flopped down onto his bed and immediately dropped his head into his hands.

"Balls to the wall in love with you?" Harry giggled, running a hand through his already unruly hair. "I wasn't expecting Shakespeare or anything but fuck me, Dunham…"

"Mate, do me a favour and hand me one of your queer boy Jack Wills jumpers so I can get out of here and go drink myself into oblivion, will you?" Pete groaned, waving blindly towards the wardrobe. "It's not every day you can say you've ruined your life before 9am so just be a good girl and help me out on this one."

"Ok," Harry laughing, rubbing his jaw as he walked towards the wardrobe, pulling out a grey hoodie and coming to stand in front of the man he had called his friend for the last seven years. "But for the record, you haven't ruined your life,"

He saw Pete's shoulders jolt upward in a silent snort but refused to budge. Their friendship was just as strong as his and Allie's. Unlike Richard who hadn't taken all too well to the presence of someone who God forbid didn't sound like an extra from Mary Poppins, Harry had always seen Pete as a brother, sometimes more so than his own flesh and blood. From PlayStation marathons to 3am pizzas in the pool house and stealing copies of Steve's 'special' magazines, they had been through thick and thin which is why it hurt as much as it did to see him as he was now.

Broken.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Harding," Pete smiled tightly, reaching out and taking the hoodie from his hands. "But we both know there's no coming back from this. I completely fucked that up,"

"How?" Harry frowned.

"Mate, did you not fuckin' hear what I just said?" he burst out. "I just told your sister, my best mate, that I'm in love with her,"

Harry pursed his lips and raised his arms up in an exaggerated shrugging motion.

"And?"

"And?" Pete cried. "And that's fucking it. We're done."

"Christ, you actually don't see it, do you?" he chuckled. "Pedro, my sister has been in love with you since the first night she met you,"

"Oh, fuck off, Harding," came the mumbled reply as Pete fought to get his head free of the now infamous Backstreet Boys t-shirt. Holding it up, he straightened out some of the creases and held it up against Harry with a smirk. "It's a perfect fit, call it a gift,"

"Joke all you want, we both know I'll fucking wear it," Harry deadpanned, earning a genuine laugh from Pete as he pulled the hoodie over his head, grateful for something that didn't smell like day old vomit or have Nick Carter's face on it.

"Pete," Harry began, his voice serious as he met his friends eyes. "Listen to me…"

"Mate, she ain't here, is she?" Pete shrugged, leaning down and taking a long sip of beer. "I said what I said and I don't reckon there's any taking it back. And we both know Allie well enough to know that she ain't the silent type when it comes to speaking her mind,"

Harry watched the smile that graced Pete's features, the light that glowed behind his eyes just from saying her name. The poor bastard truly was a goner.

"If she felt…anything," Pete shrugged. "She'd be 'ere."

Harry tried to keep the sadness out of his own eyes; he had learned long ago that Dunham's didn't take kindly to pity. But seeing a lifelong friend standing in front of you with their heart on their sleeve, bleeding and wounded beyond repair, it was hard not to let it show.

"Hang around for a bit," Harry pleaded. "Mate, give her time to process what happened. You know it's…"

"Enjoy the shirt, Harding," Pete interrupted with a pathetic attempted at laughter, hating the fact he could feel tears stinging his eyes. "Just remember, if a boy is only interested in you because of what you're wearing, he's no good for ya,"

Biting down on the inside of his cheek, Harry nodded slowly, feeling a sickness in his stomach. This sounded an awful lot like a goodbye.

"Please," he played along with a grin. "It's what's under the shirt they're after,"

Pete laughed, shaking his head and with one last long sip, drained the bottle of its amber liquid before placing it on the nightstand and looking around the room, letting out a deep sigh.

With a nod, he started towards the door then turned and before Harry could so much as blink, yanked him into a hard hug.

"I'll catch you later, mate," Pete mumbled, not meeting his eyes as he pulled away.

Yeah, this was a goodbye alright.

"Pedro," Harry began, his voice breaking as he watched the blonde pull the door open and stroll through it, out into the expansive garden. The sun was higher in the sky now, bringing with it much needed warmth as its rays meandered through the large leaves of the oaks scattered around the Harding grounds. Not allowing himself a glance back at the house, he started towards the woodland at the very bottom of the garden knowing that if he walked through it he would eventually hit the gates of the private park where he could jump over and find himself in central Kensington. Then it would only be a half hour tube ride until he was home and able to throw himself under the covers and god willing drink himself either to the point where he forgot what had happened or death.

Either would work.

It made sense really; why the hell would Allie Harding, the most amazing woman on earth want to be with Pete Dunham? What the fuck could he even offer her?

"Fucking idiot," he spat at himself, angrily swiping at his eyes from which tears had finally began to spill over.

Why didn't he just leave it? If she hadn't been stood there, pushing him he probably would have just walked away. Maybe spent some time away from her, gone to more matches with Pat and Steve or spent time with the boys. Given himself enough time and space for the feelings to fade.

Yeah right, his mind laughed at him. You'll carry this torch to your fucking death bed, you prick. A cheeky session down the Abbey and a trip to Upton Park isn't going to get her out of your head.

Remembering his first night in this garden and all the nights since; the Christmas eve's he would spend here, his mother in the kitchen laughing with Poppy while he, Steve, Allie, Harry, Lara and Richard played board games and made mad dashes to Richard's study to sneak out bottles of whiskey. The nights he had spent in her room, watching films and feeling his chest pound when he realised she was asleep, her arm falling over his stomach, her head on his chest.

That was all gone. And what was worse was it was all his own doing. All he had to do was keep his mouth shut and even he'd even managed to fuck that up.

He picked up his pace, shoving his hands into his pockets and frowning when he felt something hit his back; rolling his eyes he realised he was walking under the chestnut tree and began walking faster to avoid getting hit on the head.

"Fuck!" he shouted when indeed something did hit him in the head. But this felt bigger than a chestnut and definitely harder.

Turning around with raging eyes, he stopped dead, his stomach plummeting to this feet and back up to rest in his throat when he saw her. Barefoot and still in her pyjama shorts only with an oversized white sweater pulled over her, Allie Harding lowered her Nerf gun and met his eyes dead on, jerking her chin towards the ground where Pete glanced down at saw the other gun at his feet. Realising that the gun and not the chestnut was the culprit, he smirked and glanced up at her, ready to ask her what the fuck her problem was when she beat him to it.

"What if it goes wrong?"

Her voice which was usually so gentle was strong, fierce even as her eyes bore into his. The green orbs belied her tone, he could see the panic in them. Instinct was telling him to take a step towards her, fuck it, to run at the girl and just put his arms around her but with that look in her eyes, the toy gun in her hand may as well have been real. He needed to keep his distance.

"What if I say it back and it goes wrong?"

At that, Pete Dunham damn near had a heart attack. 'What if I say it back?' Holy fuck, did she feel the same way?

"Who says it has to go wrong?" he asked her, not yet confident asking her the question outright.

"Anything!" Allie cried, shaking her head.

She had stood at the top of the stairs completely stoic for almost 20 minutes, somewhat aware of her mother brushing her hair out of her face and Natalie mumbling at her to get her arse in gear through mouthfuls of coco pops. It had taken her mother physically shaking her and simply saying 'Its Pete, Allie. Don't let him go like this' for her to run full pelt through the kitchen and the barrage of questions from her friends to find him storming through the garden with his heart on his sleeve and the world on his shoulders.

She had hurt him with her silence and that thought made her chest feel so tight she could barely breathe.

"Anything could go wrong," she carried on, her voice becoming frantic. "You! You just had to fuck things up didn't you?"

Pete found himself taking a step back as she raised her Nerf gun again, shaking it at him far too menacingly for a 5'5 slip of a thing.

"Me?" he choked out a laugh, pointing to himself.

"Yes, you!" Allie barked. "We were fine before you….we were fine. Better than fine, we were best friends,"

"I'm still your best friend, Allie," Pete shook his head. "There's fuck all in this world that'll change that. And that includes me saying I…"

"Don't bloody say it again," she snapped, running her hands through her hair and taking a deep breath.

Pete watched, trying to keep the amused smirk off of his face as she did her usual routine of combing her fingers through her soft hair and pacing like a wild animal. He could see her biting her lip and whispering something to herself, coming to a stop every now and then before starting up again.

"Do you know how the football posts down at St Marks Park got fucked up a few years back?"

Allie stopped, her face scrunched up in exasperation as she stared at him, trying not to focus on the fact that with Harry's slightly smaller build, the hoodie Pete was wearing caused the muscles in his chest and arms to appear more prominent.

"What?" she shook her head, completely thrown off track.

"You were goin' out with that twat from Harry's school, Hugh Grant looking prick with the flicky hair," Pete made a waving motion on his forehead and Allie fought the urge to giggle. "You know exactly who I'm talking about, don't ya?"

Allie bit her lip to prevent herself from smiling again and folded her arms protectively over her chest.

"Well we were all there one day and you brought him with ya," Pete bent down and scooped up the Nerf gun at his feet. "And I saw him kissing you and I went fuckin' mental. I 'ad no idea why but something inside me just…snapped. It was maybe the fourth time in my life I've seen Swill run. Because even though you were my best mate, the girl I'd known for years, the girl I'd let throw up on my brand new trainers, the girl I'd seen snort milk out of 'er nose on more than one occasion…it should have been me kissing you. It should always be me,"

He caught the little gasp she gave out and forced himself to meet her eyes again, noting there were tears there and not letting himself think about whether that was good or bad.

"So don't fuckin' stand there and tell me we were fine as we were," he snorted. "You might have been but I wasn't."

"Me?" Allie shrieked, narrowing her eyes at him. "Don't you even think about putting this on me. I…"

She stopped, clamping her teeth together so hard that she caught a slither of her tongue between them and cringed.

"Alright, let's try another tact," Pete rubbed his jaw, making himself busy examining his Nerf gun and checking there were plastic bullets in the chamber. Happy that there were, he swung it around his finger and smirked. "What if it goes right?"

"What makes you so sure?" Allie asked him, her voice quieter. More nervous. "We're…"

"A fuckin' wreck at the best of times," Pete finished for her with a laugh. "Yeah, I know. You can't cook for shit, you burn everything in sight. Your taste in films is fuckin' dreadful, don't think I've forgiven you for making me see that fuckin' Legally Blonde film at the cinema, either. You're overly emotional about stupid shit like shoes. You talk about skirts and dresses like they're the cure for god damn cancer and you're a fuckin' awful drunk,"

"You're an arrogant arsehole," Allie shot back, firing another shot at him and catching him in the shoulder, making him yelp and laugh all at once. "You think my taste in films is shit? Two words: Football Factory. Oh and don't even get me started on your 'let me give you an hour long lecture on what's historically wrong with this movie' policy. You never clean up after yourself, always put empty cartons back in the fridge. Oh and me a bad drunk?" she scoffed. "I once spent a Halloween trying to wrestle you to the ground because you were trying to get into a building site to climb the scaffolding dressed as Spider-Man. Don't ever forget that,"

"Of course I 'aven't forgotten it," Pete told her once his laughter had subsided. The girl knew how to make a speech. "You were dressed as Cat Woman." He smirked at her. "Not something I'd forget,"

"Stop doing that!" Allie laughed, hating herself for it.

"What?"

"Making me laugh!" she bit her lip. "I'm trying to…"

"What?" Pete repeated, his tone less playful. "What're you tryna do 'ere?"

She looked up at the sky for a short moment and then down at her feet, wriggling her toes in the still wet grass and watching the flashes of red from her nail polish peek through the long strands of green.

"I'm scared,"

Her voice was barely above a whisper but he heard it. Jesus, he'd hear that voice through the loudest of storms.

"I'm scared of losing you," Allie looked at him, feeling the first of what she knew would be many tears falling from her eyes and not bothering to wipe it away. "I'm scared of having the person I love more than anything else in the world getting taken away from me because we took a chance we didn't need to take."

Pete stopped dead and looked at her, his eyes wide as his heart pounding painfully against his ribs as though trying to get out. What did she just say?

"Of course I love you," she told him, meeting his eyes dead on. "I'm in love with you. If I go a day without seeing you, its automatically a crappy one. You're the man of my life, Dunham. You have been since the first night I met you and schooled your arse at Golden Eye." She giggled and he honest for fuck felt his heart stop. "I love you. But I don't know if…"

"How can there be a fuckin' 'but' in that sentence?" Pete choked out, amazed he was able to form words at all. "Allie, I know everything about you. The good, the bad and the fuckin' awful and I love all of it." She laughed and he allowed himself a few steps towards her. "And fuck knows you know me inside out. You've seen me at my absolute worst, you pulled me through it. So if after all that, I love you and you…for some fuckin' reason love me," he shrugged, his arms clapping down at his sides as he shook his head at her. "We've wasted seven years. I don't know about you but I don't want to waste anymore,"

Allie looked at him, realising what he was saying and suddenly feeling naked, like he could see right through her.

"What do you want to do then?" she asked, still feeling terrified.

If they went for this, everything would change. And if it went wrong….. She shuddered, not wanting to think about what the damage fallout on that scenario would be.

"Right now?" Pete pointed to the ground, his eyebrows raised. "I want to kiss you. I want to kiss the crap outta ya like I should 'ave done last night. And I want to carry on kissing you for as long as you'll let me. And whether that's a year or a day…fuckin' forever, who cares?" he snorted. "Because I get to say that for x amount of time, Allie Scarlett Harding loved me. And that is fuckin' cool."

Allie giggled, wanting to badly to run into his arms but something was still holding her back; the same fear that had made itself known in her heart when she spoke to Lara last night.

"What if one of us gets hurt?" she asked him, her eyes wide. "What if I hurt you? Pete, I couldn't live with that,"

"It might 'appen. I can't promise you it won't," he shrugged, his azure eyes honest and open. "Lord knows my family 'ave a right old talent for fuckin' things up but I would never, ever hurt you." He stared at her hard, his eyes making her breath catch as she saw the intensity in them. "And I mean ever. And as for you hurting me…"

Pete walked towards her and she held her breath, her entire body closing in on itself as pure adrenaline rushed through her veins. God, he was gorgeous. He came to a stop before her and grabbed her hand which was still clinging to the Nerf gun, making her smile when he lifted it and aimed the barrel right at his heart.

"That thing in there," he tapped his chest. "It's yours. Do what you want with it. Smash the living shit out of it if you want." He smiled when she let out a small laugh. "I mean it. I would rather love you and 'ave you by some miracle love me back and then blow my heart into fuckin' pieces than give this to anyone else. It won't ever belong to anyone but you, Harding. It's that simple. And what happens now won't change that. Nothing will,"

Allie bit her lip again, tasting the tears on it and wondering if he could feel her shaking through the barrel of the gun. So much was going on in her head that she could barely keep track of her thoughts let alone separate them into something coherent. In the battle of love and logic, her heart was winning out anyway so what the hell did it matter?

"Fuck me, you still need convincing, don't you?" Pete laughed lightly, shaking his head before dropping her hand, throwing the gun to the side and then with one fluid motion, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.

Holy fucking Christ.

It took less than a second for Allie's hands to find his chest, sliding up around his neck as his moved down into the curve of her waist and back up again, under her hair to cup her head gently. Pete tried to remember if anything in his life had ever felt this good but then her tongue brushed over his lips pleading for sanctuary and he growled, kissing her deeply and pulling her flush against him so her feet left the floor, toes barely skimming the tops of his trainers.

This was it, they both knew it. Nothing would ever beat this, this is what they were made for. Life for one didn't exist without the other, it was that simple.

Allie moaned softly as his hands skimmed her cheekbones, tracing her like she was made of glass. He tasted like nothing she had ever known and the things he was doing to her…God help her, she was on the verge of ripping her clothes off and jumping him right then and there.

He pulled away from her ever so slightly, still so close than she could feel his lips curving into a grin against her own.

"That comment about Football Factory was a bit below the belt, weren't it?" he lightly kissed her bottom lip, liking the way her eyes were still closed and her heart was thumping madly against him through her sweater. "If memory serves you spent the entire two hours yapping on about Danny Dyer,"

"Don't make me throw another gun at your head," she whispered back, opening her eyes and meeting his full on.

Suddenly it was as though this was how they had always been; nothing felt strange or even alien. This was beyond natural, if anything the seven years that had spent not doing this felt wrong.

"I still have that Cat Woman outfit by the way," she giggled against his lips when he grinned.

"Halle-fuckin'-lujah," Pete murmured back, silencing her loud burst of laughter with another kiss and walking her backwards until she was pressed against the weeping willow next to them, the long arms of the tree forming a curtain around them.

"God, I love you," Allie sighed as his lips drifted across her cheek, stopping just short of her jaw as his head shot up, a light in his eyes she couldn't remember seeing before.

"Say that again," he smirked at her. That God damn smirk.

"I love you," she smiled, knowing then and there the novelty of saying those words and seeing that look on his face would never wear thin.

"Once more," Pete lowered his mouth to hers again.

"I love you," she giggled as his tongue traced her bottom lip, biting down on it gently.

"And again…"

"Oh get bent, Dunham," she rolled her eyes at his laughter.

"Shut up," he grinned, kissing her fully once again. The world seemed to cease around them as her arms came up around his neck again, her body arching against his as she tried to get closer to him and in turn doing some interesting things to his own body.

"Oi, Dunham!"

Pete pulled away from her ever so slightly, cocking his head to one side to work out where Bovver's voice was coming from.

"You still sulkin' or 'ave you two found your plumbs and got your shit together?"

Allie laughed and rested her forehead against Pete's shoulder, feeling his own laughter reverberating in his chest; of course the rest of the world ceasing to be would only last a few moments. They had their friends to contend with now.

"Bit busy at the moment, Bov," Pete shouted back, tucking Allie's hair behind her ears and smiling down at her before making for her neck, his blood screaming through his veins and heading south when she gasped loudly and clutched at his hoodie, biting down on her lip.

"Cheeky fuck," Bovver's voice echoed around them as he turned back to the rest of the gang who were crammed in the French window doorway, staring at him expectantly. "You owe me a tenner, you twat come on, pay up!" he pointed at Swill while the others laughed and went back into the house, the air of happiness around them palpable as though the world seemed right.

For now.

Your reviews are welcomed and treasured in equal measure. Honestly, they keep me going. I hope this chapter did the Pete and Allie romance justuice. Now you just have to prepare for what comes next... love always, El