25

"Mom!" Peyton shouted from her bedroom Friday morning when she returned home from school. All the seniors were dismissed at eleven o’clock to prepare for the Prom that evening.

When she entered her bedroom, she found a crimson dress hanging in front of her closet. A dress she’d never seen before.

Mrs. Kendall walked into her daughter’s room, seeing the stunned _expression on Peyton’s face. She was certain she herself had worn the same look when the dress had been delivered two hours earlier. It was beautiful, and she knew her daughter would look beautiful in it.

"What’s the matter, honey?" she asked innocently.

"This dress. Where’d it come from?" Peyton demanded. "I never bought it."

Her mother knit her eyebrows together. "Don’t you like it? It’ll look stunning on you, especially if you curl your hair and wear a little makeup..."

"I want to know where it came from," she said. "I’m not saying I don’t like it, because I do. It’s a very pretty dress, but what I want to know is why it’s in my room. Please tell me this isn’t some lame attempt to buy my affection. A dress I have no reason wearing won’t do it."

Mrs. Kendall sighed. Peyton took after her father with her stubbornness. "Your father and I are not trying to buy you off, Peyton. I was hoping you’d wear it tonight."

"Where? It’s not like I’m going to the Prom."

‘Boy will you be surprised,’ she thought. "I was thinking maybe you’d like to go out to dinner with me, since your dad’s out of town until Sunday. We could go to Chez Pierre."

Peyton looked skeptically at her mother. Something was fishy, she just couldn’t put her finger on it. "The dress is a little fancy for Chez Pierre. W hat’s really going on? What are you up to?"

‘I can’t even tell her the truth, that would ruin the surprise.’ "Okay, I do have an ulterior motive. I was hoping we could go out for a quiet dinner and talk about some things. Maybe we can work out some of these issues we seem to be having."

The teenager raised her eyebrows. "Issues? The only issue we have is yours and Dad’s desire to control every aspect of my life. Including who I choose to spend my time with. I don’t think it’s right for you to tell me who I can and cannot be friends with. I’m not five years old anymore."

"Why don’t we discuss this later?" her mother suggested. "We can talk this over tonight at dinner."

"I’m going to look ridiculous in this dress with a bulky cast on my leg," she complained with a roll of her blue eyes. "But I’ll go. Under extreme duress."

***

Evelyn Thurston smiled adoringly at her grandson as he adjusted the bow tie of his tuxedo. She could see from the way his hands trembled that he was nervous. It nearly made her laugh out loud to see her normally unflappable grandson fumble with the strings of his bow tie.

"You look very handsome," she complimented.

Brandon gazed at his reflection in the nearby mirror. "I look like a freak in a monkey suit," he said sarcastically.

She laughed. "Not at all. You know what they say. No pain, no gain."

"I’ll deal with looking like this just to see the look on Peyton’s face when she sees what I have planned for tonight. Grandma, I don’t know how to thank you for helping me with this. It means more to me than you know."

"Just promise me you won’t do anything dumb."

Brandon shook his head. "You don’t have to worry about that. I have no intention of taking advantage of Peyton tonight. Or ever. I’m through with that immature, childish crap. I love her and I’ll wait as long as necessary to...to...well, you know," he stammered.

"That’s very mature of you," his grandmother commented. "Peyton, I’m assuming, knows of your reputation?"

"*Everyone* knows about my reputation; most people seem to think it’s just a rumor. Peyton knows the truth and I don’t think she cares. Then again, after I tell her how I feel about her, that might change how she feels about all the stupid shit I’ve done."

His grandmother smiled at him. "Brandon, I wouldn’t worry too much about it. I always knew it would take a rather remarkable young woman to capture your heart. I’m certain her opinion of you won’t change once you tell her."

"I hope you’re right."

"When are you planning to tell her?"

He nibbled on his bottom lip nervously, glancing at his appearance yet again. Though he hated to admit it, he looked good. Earlier that day he’d gotten a haircut, shorter than he’d worn it in years. But it was all worth it to give Peyton the special night she deserved.

"I’m going to try to get the nerve to do it tonight," Brandon answered. "It’ll make the evening perfect if she doesn’t slug me when I tell her."

"I doubt that’s going to happen," she reassured him. Looking at her watch, she gave her grandson a peck on the cheek. "Whatever happens tonight, I want you to know how proud I am. It takes a very unique young man to make the girl he loves’ dreams come true. You remind me so much of your grandfather. But if you don’t hurry up, you’re going to be late."

"Is the limo here already?" he wanted to know.

"Ready and waiting."

He took a deep breath. "Wish me luck."

"You won’t need it."

***

Mrs. Kendall got up from her place on the couch when she heard the limo pull into the driveway. She ran to the door and opened it before Brandon reached the front porch; she didn’t want him to accidentally ring the doorbell and rouse Peyton’s suspicions. When she saw him walking toward her, she couldn’t help but be somewhat surprised. Her daughter’s friend looked deathly frightened, like a man who was heading to his own execution. And she’d never realized it before, but Brandon Thurston was quite a handsome young man. ‘Peyton certainly has good taste.’

"Hi, Brandon," she greeted.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Kendall," Brandon replied.

"Peyton’s upstairs in her room getting dressed. I must say, the dress your grandmother sent over is lovely."

Brandon blushed slightly. "I’m sure it is. I-I haven’t seen it yet. Grandma refused to let me anywhere near it, she wanted me to be surprised," he told her.

"Well, I can tell you Peyton was definitely surprised. I have to tell you, Brandon, it’s a wonderful thing you’re doing for her."

"Thank you, but no one deserves it more than she does. I feel so bad about the accident, this is the least I can do to make up for ruining her real Prom. I just wanted to do something special for Peyton, I care for her more than I ever cared for anyone. You need to know that much."

She nodded in understanding. Something in his eyes said he was being sincere. "Why don’t you come inside? Peyton should be ready very shortly."

Brandon followed her inside the house, having a seat on the couch while Mrs. Kendall went upstairs to get Peyton. A minute later she returned to the living room.

"She’ll be downstairs in a minute; she’s fixing her hair."

The two of them sat in virtual silence for two minutes until Peyton finally descended the stairs. When he laid eyes on her, his breath caught in his throat and his brown eyes widened into round saucers. He’d never seen anyone look as beautiful as she did at that moment. The dress his grandmother picked out hugged her in all the appropriate places. It was a one-shouldered crimson gown with a scooped hem. The left side fell to Peyton’s ankle while the right side grazed her knee, and on her right foot she wore a silver sandal. She left her long brown hair down, curling it and allowing it to fall along the planes of her back. On her face she wore minimal makeup.

When she entered the room, he forced himself to stand up. The sight of her left him weak in the knees and made his body come alive in places he didn’t even know existed. She looked like an angel. When she caught sight of him, Peyton stopped dead in her tracks.

"Brandon?" she asked, not quite sure if her eyes were deceiving her.

"H-Hello, Peyton. You look beautiful," he managed to choke out.

The brunette darted her eyes to her mother, who took the opportunity to snap a picture of her. "Does someone want to tell me what’s going on?"

"Brandon’s taking you to the Prom," Mrs. Kendall informed her.

"I’m missing something here." Peyton was utterly confused.

He took a step toward her, pulling out the corsage he’d ordered and placed it on her wrist. It was a red rose; he hoped she understood the meaning behind it. "I heard you telling Jessica that you wanted to go to the Prom but you were too embarrassed to go in a cast. So I thought I’d give you your own Prom, since ours is sold out. A Prom where the only person who’ll see you is me. Well, me, your mom and the limo driver," Brandon explained.

"You did all of this for me?" she asked incredulously.

"My grandmother did a lot of it, including ordering the dress and having it shipped from New York. I hope you’re not upset."

Peyton shook her head. "Upset? No, not at all. Just...shocked that you went to all this trouble for me." She turned to her mother. "And you knew all about this?"

"Evelyn Thurston called me the other morning and asked my permission to allow Brandon to take you out tonight."

"What happened to not allowing me to see him?" Peyton questioned.

Her mother smiled knowingly. "We’ll discuss it later, Peyton. Now, I want you two to stand next to each other so I can take some pictures."

***

26

"Can I ask you a question, Brandon?" Peyton began as the limousine drove down the street toward downtown Smithfield.

He gazed at her, still finding it hard to believe she was really there with him. It wasn’t a dream, Peyton actually sat next to him in the limo, headed for a candlelight dinner that was meant to be a surprise for her. "Ask away."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Why not?"

She bit her lip, trying to find the right words. "It just seems so...so out there, like something out of a fairytale. I break my leg in a freak accident, had no intention of going to the Prom because of my wounded pride and you come along and take me anyway. Even going so far as to have a dress – a gorgeous dress, mind you – send to me, renting a limo and seeing to it that I don’t miss out on the Prom. This is utterly amazing."

"I have a confession to make," Brandon said. "I could have gotten tickets to the Prom. It would have entailed some blackmail and threatening, but it could have been done. Then I remembered what you said to Jessica and thought you might enjoy something more private. I hope I made the right decision."

Peyton nodded her head and smiled at him. No one had ever done anything like this for her. It made her feel special. "I know whatever you have planned for tonight is going to be perfect. I’m having a terrific time already."

"Beats sitting at home watching cheesy movies," he teased, reminding her of her words to Jessica Monday afternoon.

She laughed.

***

The limousine driver took them to the Whitmer Building, which housed the corporate offices of Evelyn Thurston’s law firm. She owned the building and had ordered the roof be turned into a makeshift restaurant for the night. A chef had been hired to prepare chicken cordon bleu, roasted potatoes, carrots and chef salad. A bottle of champagne sat chilling next to the table in the middle of the roof. On the table was a red tablecloth that perfectly matched Peyton’s dress and a single lit candle. It was the perfect romantic setting.

"Dinner was delicious," Peyton commented, placing her cloth napkin on the empty plate in front of her. "Chicken cordon bleu is one of my favorites."

"I know," Brandon admitted. "Your mother told my grandmother when they spoke on Wednesday. I wanted to make sure you liked everything on the menu."

She grinned at him. Brandon had gone to so much trouble, it amazed her how he planned every last detail to her liking. "I don’t know what to say."

"You don’t have to say anything." He stood up, walking to her side and outstretched his hand. "Although I wouldn’t say no to a dance."

"I can’t dance, Brandon," Peyton told him. "I have this cast on my leg and I’ll make a total fool out of myself. I’ll probably step all over your feet."

He shook his head. "I don’t care if you step on me. This is your Prom, Peyton. You have to dance."

Letting out a heavy sigh, she took his hand and let him lead her a few feet away, where he’d set up a boom box. Brandon pushed the PLAY button and took his love into his arms.

"Don’t say I didn’t warn you," she told him, half-joking. "You may end up with a broken toe."

"You could never hurt me," he muttered, too low for her to hear.

// The grey ceiling on the earth
Well it’s lasted for a while
Take my thoughts for what they’re worth
I’ve been acting like a child
In your opinion, what is that?
It’s just a different point of view \\

Brandon chose the song himself, having sifted through hundreds of his CDs over the past three days. He wanted the first song they danced to to describe his feelings for her. Not that he expected Peyton to make the connection. He doubted she had any idea how deep his feelings ran. And he wanted to keep it that way; he wanted to be the one who told her, not a song. But it certainly set the mood.

// What else can I do?
I said I’m sorry, yeah I’m sorry
I said I’m sorry, but what for?
If I hurt you then I hate myself
Don’t want to hate myself, don’t want to hurt you
Why do you choose your pain?
If you only knew how much I love you, love you \\

"I’m sorry, Peyton," he apologized. "I’m really sorry."

Lifting her head, she peered curiously in Brandon’s chocolate eyes. She could see the pain and sorrow in them. "Why are you sorry? You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about."

"It’s my fault you’re not at the Prom with your friends. Dancing and laughing and eating and having the time of your life. Instead you’re here with me."

Peyton wondered where this was coming from. "If I wanted to be there with them, don’t you think I’d have gone? And it’s not your fault I’m here; not your fault I have this big ass cast on my leg. The only person I blame for any of this is Nick. He put me here; he put me in this position. Not you."

// I won’t be your winter
I won’t be anyone’s excuse to cry
Can we be forgiven?
I will be here \\

"And as for Prom? Big deal. So I’m not out partying with the majority of the Senior class. I’d rather be here with you than out with them any day of the week. You must have realized I’m not exactly Miss Popularity at Smithfield High," Peyton told him. "I was popular by association. Once I broke up with Nick, I went right back to being invisible."

"You’re hardly invisible, Peyton," he admonished. "People notice you. Guys especially." Seeing the way his fellow male students leered at her in the halls made him want to gouge their eyes out.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I wish I could say it was for the right reasons most of the time."

// The old picture on the shelf
Well it’s been there for a while
A frozen image of ourselves
We are acting like a child
Innocent and in a trance
A dance that lasted for a while \\

"What do you mean?" he wanted to know.

"I never told anyone this, not my parents or Jessica or Eric. I was ashamed. Not long after I broke up with Nick, guys started coming up to me, asking me out. I never gave it much thought until Drew Masters told me Nick had gone and told a bunch of his friends how good I was in bed, and how easy it was to get me there."

Brandon narrowed his eyes. "As if I didn’t need another reason to kill him..." Hearing the pain in her voice made him want to envelop her in his arms and never let her go.

"And a part of me understands why he started the rumor, he wanted to get back at me for dumping him. But it was an outright lie; he and I never...well, I’m..."

"I get the picture."

// You read my eyes just like a diary
Oh remember, please remember
Well I’m not a beggar but what’s more
If I hurt you then I hate myself, don’t wanna hurt you
Why do you choose that pain?
If you only knew how much I love you \\

They danced in silence for a while longer. Brandon reveled in the feeling of having Peyton his his arms. It was like his life-long wish had come true. With her head resting against his heart, he could easily smell the vanilla perfume she wore. The scent of it nearly drove him crazy. It reminded him how close she was, yet how far away at the same time.

He wanted to tell her at that moment how much he loved her, how he wanted to take all of her pain away. Brandon fancied himself Peyton’s knight in shining armor, and wished he could whisk her off on his white steed to his castle and live happily ever after. In the back of his mind, he knew however much he loved her, she deserved someone better.

// I won’t be your winter
I won’t be anyone’s excuse to cry
We can be forgiven
I will be here
I won’t be your winter
I won’t be anyone’s excuse to cry
We can be forgiven
I will be here \\

The sound of Peyton sniffling against his shirt broke Brandon out of his reverie. Looking down, he saw a tear fall down her cheek. "Peyton? Are you crying?"

"I’m fine."

"Why are you crying?" He backed away from her and lifted her chin with his pointer finger. "And don’t say no reason. I know something must be bothering you. Is it something I did?"

"I was thinking how wonderful this night has been. A great dinner, dancing, an expensive dress, a wonderful date. And how I didn’t do anything to deserve any of this," Peyton said softly.

Brandon stared at her, not believing what she was saying. "Why in the world would you think that? Of course you deserve this. Peyton, you deserve this and so much more."

"I don’t feel that way. Why would anyone go to all this trouble just for me? I don’t get it."

"It’s not obvious?" He stopped himself before he revealed all to her. "What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

"What do you mean?"

He sighed. "Pretend you’re looking in the mirror. Tell me what you see."

"A girl who got extremely lucky when she put on this dress. I don’t know, Brandon. I see me. Plain, ordinary me. Boring Peyton Elizabeth Kendall."

"Beyond that," he prodded.

Peyton closed her eyes, pretending she stood in front of her bedroom mirror. "My hair is flat and lifeless. My nose is crooked and my lips are too narrow. I’m flat-chested, my hips are too wide for my body and I have chicken legs. Oh, and I hate my freckles."

Brandon raised his eyebrows. He never realized what a low opinion of herself Peyton had. "Is that it?"

"I can think of a lot of things I see."

"Do you mind if I tell you what I see when I look at you?"

She shrugged. "Go ahead."

"Okay. I see a funny, smart, beautiful woman who is perfect in every possible way. Her hair shines, her eyes light up any room she’s in; her lips and nose are absolutely perfect. As for her breasts, well, I’ve got enough experience to safely say that she is not flat-chested, and that large ones are highly overrated. Freckles are beautiful and add character. And her legs are shapely and the stuff dreams are made of." He didn’t add that he desperately wanted to feel them wrapped around his waist as he made passionate love to her. "I could continue."

"You don’t have to."

"There is one more thing. You have one thing no other girl in the world has."

Peyton tilted her head curiously. "What could I possibly have?"

"My heart."

"What?"

Brandon closed the gap between them. He pushed her brown hair over her shoulders, tangling his right hand in the silky tresses. Looking deep into her blue eyes, he took a deep breath. It was now or never. "I love you, Peyton. Madly, desperately, hopelessly in love with you."

His admission confounded her. She never expected to hear those words come from his mouth. "How...when...how?"

"That day by your locker when Nick was harassing you. I took one look in your eyes and I was gone. I didn’t even know who you were, or that you were CAREBEAR. All I knew was that I loved you right then and there. And now all I want to do is kiss you."

"Then what are you waiting for?" she asked. "Kiss me."

Leaning down, Brandon captured her lips in their first kiss.

***

27

Part of her thought it was a joke at first. There was no way someone like Brandon Thurston loved someone like her. They were too different; he was the town rebel, the bad seed in the Mayor’s family. He had a reputation for causing trouble and bedding women, then leaving them. Peyton couldn’t have been more his polar opposite; she was innocent in every way. Trusting to a fault, inexperienced in matters of the body and heart. In her seventeen years she’d only dated one boy, kissed only him. And for some unknown reason, Brandon still loved her.

The question that continually ran through her mind was why? What did she have that made him love her? She always thought of herself as ordinary, certainly not the type of girl Brandon would find attractive. He was used to women throwing themselves at his feet, offering him their bodies in exchange for one night of pleasure at his hands. Why did he tell her she had his heart?

Any doubts she might have had toward his sincerity disappeared the moment his lips touched hers. It was soft and gentle, as if he was using his mouth to worship her. When Nick kissed her, he practically thrust his tongue into her mouth like he owned her. But not Brandon. He let the buss deepen naturally, never forcing Peyton to move faster than she was ready to. He nibbled gently on her lower lip, placing his left hand on her cheek and cupping it like it was a precious piece of china.

As his right hand tangled itself in her long hair, Peyton wrapped her arms around his neck and kept his head in place. She never wanted the kiss to end and had no intention of letting Brandon go anytime soon. Moaning against his mouth, she opened hers wide enough to allow him to slip his tongue inside.

Brandon felt like he was over the moon when Peyton reciprocated the kiss. He never thought she’d let him touch her, much less kiss him back with equal fervor. His entire body was on fire with want, and it took all of his willpower to keep him from taking her right there on the roof. But he knew she deserved better than that. When they finally did make love, it would be special, and it would be on her terms.

When their lips finally parted, the two of them stared at each other for several long, excruciating moments. Brandon waited anxiously for Peyton to either kiss him again or slap him across the face for being so bold. The silence was awkward and slowly drove him insane, mostly because he couldn’t read the _expression on her face.

"Wow," she finally said, catching her breath. Peyton turned away from him, trying to sort out the emotions surging through her body. "Oh my god."

He reached out to touch her bare shoulder. His biggest fear was that he frightened her. "Peyton, I–"

"I love you, too," she stated.

"What did you say?" Brandon thought he’d heard her say she loved him but wouldn’t allow himself to believe it until he knew for sure.

Facing him once again, Peyton steadied her breathing. She’d never said those words to anyone before; the realization of how she felt scared her. One look in Brandon’s eyes, however, and all her fears went away. "I said I love you, too."

"Y-You love me?"

She nodded. "Yes, I guess I just realized it, which is pretty stupid. I always thought I loved Nick, but whatever I might have felt for him pales in comparison to what I feel when you’re around. It feels like...like..." Peyton had a hard time finding the right words to describe it.

"Like the lights dim everywhere," Brandon said. "Like the entire world stops existing whenever you enter the room."

"Exactly," she agreed. "Nick never made me feel like that. And he never made my legs turn to spaghetti with a single kiss. Not like you just did."

Brandon pulled her into his arms, hugging her as tightly as he could without hurting her. It felt good to hold her; it felt so right and he had to fight back tears of joy. "I love you, Peyton. I love you so much and I don’t think I’ll ever stop. I don’t want to stop."

***

Nick had been looking everywhere for his ex-girlfriend. She was there somewhere, he knew it. Peyton wouldn’t miss their Senior Prom, it was all she’d talked about for the first month of school. She was hiding in a corner where he couldn’t find her, all by herself because no guy at school wanted to go to the Prom with a girl who had a broken leg.

He stalked toward Jessica, who sat at an otherwise empty table with her date and Eric. Peyton was not with them. He didn’t know if that surprised him or not. "Where the hell is she, Jessica?" he demanded when he reached their table.

Jessica glanced up and sighed heavily. ‘Can’t I go one night without having to deal with Nick Duffy?’ she thought. "Go away, Nick."

"Not until you tell me where Peyton is hiding. I know she’s around here somewhere."

"Leave Peyton alone," Eric told him. "Haven’t you caused her enough pain for one lifetime?"

"Kiss my ass, you little fuck. Now tell me where she is."

"You can look until you’re blue in the face," Jessica informed him. "Peyton isn’t here. She decided not to come tonight. And I suggest you listen to Eric and leave her alone. I’ve heard that attempted rape can get you a few years in San Quentin. I’d hate to think about what they’d do to a pretty boy like you there."

Nick narrowed his eyes angrily. "You’d better watch what you say, Jessica. Wouldn’t want you to go through the same thing."

"You know, Peyton might be afraid of you, Nick, but I’m not. So go to hell."

Without a witty comeback, Nick walked away.

Eric looked at Jessica with questions in his eyes. "Um, I’m more than a little confused. Attempted rape? Did I miss something?" he wanted to know.

"Nick attacked Peyton in the alley next to Holiday’s."

"When?!" he exploded. "Why was I not told?"

"It happened the night Peyton broke her leg. Brandon Thurston found her and they ended up in an accident later on. I don’t know why she didn’t tell you. Maybe because she knew you’d freak out."

Eric groaned. "I knew Thurston was involved somehow. I just knew it. He is nothing but bad news."

***

"I had a really good time tonight," Peyton said to Brandon when the limo dropped her off at her house at midnight. "Better than a good time, actually. It was the best night of my life so far."

Brandon grinned. "Definitely the best night of my life. And it’s all because of you."

She stood on her tiptoes, grabbed hold of his shoulders for leverage and kissed him with all her might. "Thank you for everything you did tonight, Brandon. The dress, the limo, the private Prom and especially the kiss."

"I meant it when I said I love you." He laughed shortly. "I almost didn’t tell you; I was afraid of how you’d react. Would you punch me? Tell me to get the hell away? Never did I anticipate you saying it back."

"No one’s ever told me they love me. Well, nobody outside my family anyway. Nick would say it, but he didn’t mean it, not the way you do. And I do love you; I wouldn’t have said it back if I didn’t feel it," Peyton said.

Brandon put his arms around her. "I can’t not have you in my life now, Peyton. Everything I do from now on I don’t just do for myself, I do it for you. For us. I need to convince you of that."

She touched her hand to his cheek. "You don’t have to convince me of anything. Although I wanna hear you say you love me again before I go inside."

He touched his forehead to hers. "I love you, Peyton Kendall."

"I love you, too, Brandon Thurston."

Unbeknownst to them, standing near the bushes on the side of the Kendalls’ house was Nick. Having heard every word exchanged between the two, he balled his hands into fists.

"You’re dead, Thurston. I’ll teach you what happens when you touch what’s mine," he whispered.

***

28

"How was the Prom last night?" Peyton questioned Jessica Saturday afternoon when her best friend stopped over for a visit.

Jessica shrugged her shoulders. "It was okay. Kinda boring and uneventful, but to be expected at a good old James Madison High event. Nick was looking for you, though."

"What the hell did he want?"

"Who knows? Probably out to make your life miserable, just like he always does." The blonde paused for a moment. "I think I made a big boo-boo and you’re probably going to kill me."

Peyton knit her eyebrows together. She’d been floating on cloud nine since the night before, nothing Jessica could say would ruin her good mood. She could still feel Brandon’s lips on hers, and it made her tingle all over. "What happened?"

"When Nick came over looking for you, I mentioned that he tried to rape you. It didn’t even seem to phase Nick, but Eric went completely postal."

"Oh."

Jessica widened her eyes. "Oh? *Oh*?! That’s all you can say? Here I sit, totally afraid you’re going to bitch slap me into the next century and all you can say is ‘oh’? What’s going on with you, Peyton?"

"Nothing."

"You’re awfully cheerful. What happened? Did you find out Nick got run over by a semi and neglected to tell me the good news? We’re best friends and supposed to share good stuff like that."

She shook her head. "No, unfortunately. I just had a really good last night. I have absolutely no regrets about missing the Prom."

"I thought all you had planned for last night was watching a movie in your room. What movie did you watch that put you in such a good mood?" Jessica wanted to know. "Because I want to rent it."

‘I guess it’s now or never. Jess’s going to find out eventually. Better she hear it from me than someone else,’ thought Peyton. "I didn’t stay home last night, Jessie. A-A friend picked me up and took me out for dinner."

"Anyone I know?"

"The guy I met online."

Jessica looked at her best friend with suspicion in her eyes. She was definitely hiding something, and Jessica was determined to find out what it was. But she didn’t get a chance to call her on it because Mrs. Kendall entered the room unannounced.

"Peyton, I got the pictures back that I took last night," her mother informed her. "They came out beautifully. I have to say, you and Brandon made such a handsome couple."

She handed the pictures to her daughter, said hello to Jessica and walked back out the door. Peyton nervously glanced at her best friend’s face, which turned beet red with anger.

"Brandon?" she repeated. "*Brandon*?! Your mother couldn’t possibly have meant Brandon Thurston, could she?"

"Jess, you have to let me explain."

"Explain what?" she demanded. "Explain why you lied to me? Why you couldn’t tell me that he took you out? Tell me, Peyton, is he the guy you met online?"

Peyton sighed. "Yes."

"How can you do this to me?"

"It wasn’t like I did it on purpose! Nobody knew how we met; as far as everyone’s concerned, he and I barely know one another, he just watches out for me," Peyton said. "We started talking online right after I broke up with Nick, you already know that part. I didn’t even know who he was at first. Well, Brandon felt bad about the accident and that I wasn’t going to the Prom because of it, so he put together a private Prom for me on the roof of the Whitmer Building."

"I get the feeling that’s not the only thing that happened last night." Jessica picked up the pictures Peyton had placed on the bed next to her. Peyton stood in a gorgeous red dress and Brandon to her left wearing a tuxedo. The _expression on Brandon’s handsome face in all of the pictures only confirmed her suspicions. They were more than friends. And made her want to cry. "Tell me you don’t have feelings for him, Pey."

She avoided her eyes, choosing to stare at her bedspread instead. "I can’t," she mumbled.

Tears burned her eyes before finally falling down her cheeks. "No. No! You can’t do this to me. You know how I feel. If you really were my best friend, you wouldn’t do this."

"I didn’t do it on purpose!" exclaimed Peyton. "It’s not like I woke up yesterday morning and decided to fall in love with him. It-it just sorta happened."

"Whatever happened to thinking Brandon is a thug? A hoodlum with no future? A worthless waste of air? What suddenly changed?"

"I was wrong about him. He said he loves me, told me so last night," she admitted. "And when he kissed me, I knew I felt the same way. Jessie, I didn’t do it to hurt you. I swear I didn’t. I’d never do anything to purposely hurt you."

"Well you did." Jessica got off the bed. "Some friend you are, Peyton. I hope you and Brandon are miserable together."

***

"I understand you had a date Friday night," Mr. Kendall said to his daughter over dinner when he returned from his trip on Sunday.

She nodded her head. "Yeah, I did. With Brandon Thurston. He took me to the Prom."

"That’s what your mother tells me. And I certainly hope you enjoyed yourself, because you will never go out with that boy ever again. Is that clear? Friday night was the last time we’ll bend the rules for him."

Peyton gaped at him, then looked toward her mother for support. Mrs. Kendall sat silently across from her husband. It was apparent her mother would be of no help to her. "No, it’s not clear at all, Dad. Why can’t I go out with him? Didn’t Mom tell you what he did for me? Brandon created a Prom for me so I wouldn’t miss out on it. Can’t you see what a great guy he is?"

"It’s a ploy to get what he wants out of you. I will not have you taken in by him. You are *not* to see him."

"No. Brandon doesn’t want anything from me. He’s protected me from Nick. You remember the accident we were in last month? Well, Nick tried to rape me that night!" Peyton shouted. "Brandon was trying to get me away from there when we crashed. It wasn’t his fault, and you always blame him whenever something bad happens to me. It stops right now!"

"Peyton Elizabeth Kendall, you lower your voice this instant," her father warned. "You are not to see him any more."

She jumped up from her chair and threw her fork angrily on her plate. Nobody understood what she and Brandon shared; not her parents, not even her best friend. "We love each other. And you can try to keep us apart, go right ahead. But it won’t work.. You can’t keep me from being with the man I love."

***

29

Monday morning at school, Brandon arrived early so he’d have time to talk to Peyton before homeroom started. Most days he didn’t waltz into the building until five minutes before classes began. But when he woke up in the morning, he couldn’t wait to get to school and see Peyton. He hadn’t seen her since Friday night and it was driving him insane.

He caught sight of her putting her books in her bookbag and ran over to her side. His love was a sight for sore eyes in a pair of jean shorts and a plain black tank top. "Hey," Brandon greeted, grinning at her.

Peyton looked up, forcing herself to smile when she saw him. She wasn’t disappointed to see him, but given the fights she’d had with her parents on Sunday and Jessica on Saturday, seeing Brandon only seemed to bring forth a wave of bad memories. "Hiya."

"What’s wrong?" he questioned. He could tell something was bothering her.

She shook her head. "Nothing."

"Don’t lie to me, Peyton. After Friday night, I thought you understood you can tell me anything. And it’s the truth."

"I know. I just...look, Brandon, I think we need to talk." Peyton knew talking to him wasn’t going to be easy, not with what she needed to say. They weren’t even officially together and breaking up with him was going to kill her inside.

"About what?"

"Not here. We have to talk alone, in private."

Brandon picked up her backpack and slung it over his shoulder, then handed Peyton her crutches. "Lead the way, love."

His use of the word ‘love’ didn’t go unnoticed by Peyton. Walking down the hallway, she found an empty classroom and led them inside. For privacy, she closed the door behind them. "Brandon, I want you to know this has nothing to do with you, or how I feel about you."

"Am I about to get the ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ speech?" he asked her. "Because I know how those end and I don’t want to hear it. Especially not from you."

"I’m sorry," she apologized. "This thing between us isn’t going to work."

"I don’t accept that. What happened this weekend that made you change your mind? Was it something I did?"

Peyton shook her head once again. "I told you, it doesn’t have anything to do with you. Brandon, I love you."

"If you love me, why don’t you want to be with me?" It made absolutely no sense to him.

"I *do* want to be with you. You don’t understand, it’s complicated for me."

"So un-complicate it," he stated. "Is it Nick? Did he say something or do something to you? Because if he did, I will happily beat him within an inch of his pathetic excuse of a life."

"Nick has nothing to do with it either," she reassured him. "It’s my parents and Jessica. Us being together is just going to cause too much trouble. Jessie hates me and my dad forbid me from seeing you."

Brandon lifted a single eyebrow. "Again? He forbid you from seeing me before and it didn’t stop you then. Why are you letting it worry you now?"

"My dad’s narrow-mindedness isn’t the whole reason for my decision. Mostly it has to do with Jessica."

"What does she have to do with anything?"

"She hates me! When I told her that you took me out on Friday night, she spazzed on me. Said that I betrayed her and we weren’t friends anymore and that she hoped we’d be miserable together. I love you, Brandon, but she’s been my best friend since kindergarten."

"I don’t understand why she would say those things to you." Reaching out, Brandon wiped away the solitary tear that fell down her cheek.

She bit her lip. "Because she...god, Jessie’s gonna kill me for saying anything to you. She’s had this thing for you for as long as I can remember. When she found out I was in the accident with you last month, she got really mad. This time, though, when I mentioned what you said to me, and what I said to you, she flipped. I don’t want to lose her as a friend, and if that means giving up the man I love, so be it."

"That’s very noble of you," Brandon commented. "Too bad I don’t agree. So Jessica has a crush on me, that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve some happiness with me. I don’t love Jessica, I love *you*. I want to spend the rest of my life with *you*. And if your friend can’t handle that, maybe she’s not such a good friend after all."

He took several steps closer to her. The scent of vanilla overpowered him and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning down to kiss her. It didn’t surprise him when Peyton didn’t fight back. "I’m not giving up on us, Peyton. What we have is real and it’s right. I can feel it in my bones. If you want to let your parents and your best friend dictate your life, that’s your choice. But they aren’t going to stop me from being with the woman I love. Nothing is."

***

At lunch that afternoon, Peyton and Brandon sat by themselves near the far wall of the cafeteria. Jessica strolled past them, a hurt look in her eyes and Eric refused to even look in their direction. Brandon felt bad that her friends abandoned her, but that was their loss, not Peyton’s. He loved her and would be damned if he was going to give in to their pettiness.

"I wish you weren’t so damn unhappy," he said to her as they walked out of the cafeteria. "If I could do something to make it better, I would in a heartbeat. But we’re not going to break up over it."

She nodded. "Yeah, I know. Look, I’m sorry about everything I said to you this morning. I was upset about my fight with Jessica and–"

Her apology was interrupted by Brandon stopping and kissing her in the middle of the hallway. As it deepened, the two of them didn’t see the looks their fellow classmates gave them, or heard the catcalls some of them made. Not that they would have cared anyway. For Brandon, the whole world disappeared whenever he was near Peyton.

Neither one of them noticed Nick come behind Brandon until he pulled him away from the kiss. "Get your fucking hands off of her!" Nick shouted.

"Nick, please," begged Peyton, her whole body trembling. "Don’t do this, not here."

Her ex-boyfriend glared angrily at her, shoving her back into the crowd that had formed around them. "Shut up, you vindictive, cheating whore!"

Brandon wasn’t about to stand for Nick Duffy pushing around his girlfriend. Rushing to Peyton’s side, he asked, "Are you okay?"

"I’m fine. Just ignore him, Brandon."

He shook his head and placed a kiss on her temple. "Not likely. I want you to stay right where you are, got it?"

"Please don’t do anything stupid."

"Don’t worry. I’m gonna make that bastard bury himself." He turned back around to face Nick. "Tell me, Nick, do you get your kicks from beating girls, pushing them around?"

Nick fumed. "Back off, Thurston."

"You’re the one who started this little game when you pulled me away from a very enjoyable kiss with my girlfriend."

That comment only angered him even more. "You had your scummy lips all over *my* girlfriend. Peyton belongs with me, to me! Whatever delusions of grandeur you might have, forget them. She knows who she belongs to, don’t you, Peyton?"

"We’re over, Nick. We’ve been over for months. I love Brandon, and he loves me," she told him.

Half turning away, Nick fisted his hand and swung it in Brandon’s direction. The punch connected with his nose, leaving a trail of blood flying through the air as Brandon’s head snapped from the impact. He stumbled backwards, falling to the ground with a thud. Some students cheered, the majority of them gasped. Who did Nick Duffy think he was, taking on Brandon Thurston? He was just asking for trouble.

Peyton hobbled to Brandon’s side and knelt next to him. "You’re bleeding. Brandon, your nose could be broken."

"I’m fine." He brought his right hand to his nose, blood sticking to his fingers. "He’s dead if he thinks he can touch you like that."

"Don’t you dare hit him back. It’s what he wants you to do, and if you do you’ll only get in trouble. You could risk not graduating."

Taking a deep breath, Brandon tried to keep a lid on his emotions. "I promised you I’d beat him within an inch of his life. He’s aching for it right now."

"Please. Just let me take you to the nurse."

Brandon shook his head. "No."

Bored with the scene in front of him, Nick kicked him in the stomach. This time, Mr. Bannerman, the school principal, saw him and made his way over. "Come on, Thurston," egged Nick. "Show Peyton what a big strong man you are."

Doubled over in pain, Brandon attempted to stand up. "I don’t have to prove my manhood by punching you. I’m a bigger man than that. Personally, I think you have some anger management issues that need dealing with."

"I tend to agree," Mr. Bannerman chimed in. "Mr. Duffy, you are to accompany me to my office this instant. Mr. Thurston, I want you to go to the school nurse and have your nose looked at. And take Miss Kendall with you. Then I want you two in my office as well. We need to discuss what just happened here."

***

30

"Where’s Peyton?" Eric asked Jessica before their sixth period class began. The three of them had Creative Writing together, and their friend never missed it. The class was Peyton’s favorite. "I’m surprised she’s not here yet."

Jessica shrugged her shoulders in indifference. She was still smarting over her argument with Peyton on Saturday afternoon. She felt hurt, angry and betrayed by her best friend. "I don’t know, I don’t care."

"What’s wrong with you? Did you and Peyton have a fight? You two were fine on Friday," Eric commented.

"Then Friday night happened."

"What happened on Friday night? Aside from Prom."

"She went to her own Prom," she responded bitterly. "Complete with dinner and dancing and locking lips with the man of *my* dreams!"

Eric raised his eyebrows. "Huh? The man of your dreams? What am I missing here?"

"Peyton went out with Brandon. He gave her a private, romantic Prom on top of the Whitmer Building. It’s not fair, Eric. She never even thought about him until recently, and now he’s doing all sorts of wonderful things for her. Like buying her a Prom dress, giving her a Prom, telling her he loves her..."

"He told her *what*?" he exclaimed.

"Yeah, how wrong is *that*? Until a few months ago, Peyton wouldn’t have given Brandon Thurston the time of day. She called him a thug, a hoodlum, a loser. And now she’s all over him like a cheap whore."

"Jess!" In all the years he’d known Jessica, he had never heard her say such a thing about Peyton.

"I’m not going to apologize," she stated. "Peyton has known how I feel about him for years. You’d figure she would have the common decency not to go after him. A real friend wouldn’t do what she did to me."

"Since when is falling in love against the code of friendship?" he wanted to know.

She narrowed her eyes. "Whose side are you on?"

"Right now? Peyton’s. Jessica, you’re acting like a whiny, spoiled brat who didn’t get her own way. Haven’t you given any thought to the fact that Peyton deserves a little happiness? The world doesn’t revolve around her, and if Brandon doesn’t want to be with you, maybe you should accept that he wants to be with Peyton and let them be happy."

Jessica groaned in annoyance. "How can you be so blase about this whole thing? Aren’t you in love with her?"

"So? Loving her means wanting her to be happy. I may not like who she chooses to love, but I care enough about her to get past it. You’re just being selfish," Eric told her.

"I am not."

"Fine." He rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore her. The last thing he wanted was to get in the middle of Peyton and Jessica’s fight.

One of their classmates ran into the classroom, stopping right in front of the two of them. "Hey, you two are friends with Peyton Kendall, aren’t you?"

Eric nodded, giving the girl a strange look. "Yeah, why?"

"You didn’t hear what happened?" she questioned excitedly. "Her ex got into a brawl with Brandon Thurston and now he’s got a broken nose! They’re all down at Principal Bannerman’s office right now, probably getting into serious trouble."

"Who has the broken nose?" Jessica wanted to know.

"Brandon. Nick started harassing them in the hall and punched him in the nose. Then he kicked him while he was still on the ground! Brandon didn’t even fight back. He *totally* could have pounded Nick Duffy’s ass into the ground."

Eric laughed. "I’m surprised he didn’t. I know I would have."

The girl smiled at him. "I would give anything to be a fly on the wall in the principal’s office at this exact moment."

***

"How’s your nose?" Peyton asked as they sat outside Principal Bannerman’s office. They’d spent the last half an hour in the nurse’s office having his nose checked out. It wasn’t broken.

"It hurts," he complained. "Hurts like a bitch; like someone is taking a hammer and pounding on it at two second intervals."

She frowned. "I’m sorry."

"It’s not your fault. Peyton, you don’t have to apologize for everything that goes wrong. Maybe Nick made you do that, but not me."

Taking the ice pack from his hand, she placed it on Brandon’s nose. He whimpered in discomfort but relaxed when his girlfriend’s free hand squeezed his. "Thank you."

The principal opened his door and saw the couple sitting in the waiting room. They made quite a pair, with Brandon’s bloodied nose and Peyton’s broken left leg. "Mr. Thurston, Miss Kendall, you can come inside now."

They stood up and made their way inside, taking a seat as Mr. Bannerman shut the door behind them. "I think you’ll be happy to know Nicholas Duffy has been suspended for two weeks."

"Not long enough if you ask me," muttered Brandon.

"Brandon..." warned Peyton.

"I’ve heard Mr. Duffy’s side of the story. He claims you started it by tormenting him; claims you were rubbing it in that you stole Miss Kendall from him," Mr. Bannerman informed the two of them.

Brandon’s blood boiled. "That’s an outright lie! I did *not* steal Peyton from him. He’s just pissed because she’d rather be with me than an abusive asshole like him. And I sure as hell didn’t start it."

"While I don’t particularly care about either of your love lives, it seems to me that’s the reason you’re here." Mr. Bannerman sighed heavily. "I find myself somewhat surprised to be taking your side in this matter, given the amount of time you’ve spent in my company, Brandon."

"You actually believe me?" he asked, shocked.

"Yes. Too many witnesses contradict what he told me. I also know you didn’t reciprocate his punches. Although neither of you two are in any trouble, I would like you to tell me what happened."

Peyton chewed on her bottom lip. "I-I don’t know what happened at first. We were kissing in the hallway after lunch and the next thing I know, Brandon is being pulled away from me. Nick started calling me names, pushed me into a group of people and then punched Brandon. When he fell to the ground, Nick kicked him in the stomach. Brandon never even fought back; he just laid there and took it."

"Didn’t feel great, either," Brandon noted. "That’s pretty much what happened, Mr. Bannerman. Duffy is jealous, end of story. Can we go now?"

"You may go home, yes. Miss Kendall, you can return to your next class."

She vehemently shook her head. "Oh no. If Brandon leaves, I leave with him. Someone has to make sure he gets home in one piece."

Taken aback by her abruptness, Principal Bannerman allowed her to leave school with her boyfriend.

***

31

"You didn’t have to come home with me," Brandon told Peyton. The two of them walked through the front door of the mansion he lived in. "I don’t want you to get into trouble with your parents. You’re going to have a hard enough time explaining why you’re out of school so early."

Peyton put her arms around his waist in an effort to alleviate some of the weight Brandon had to carry. "My dad is a stubborn asshole and my mom is a two-faced bitch. I don’t particularly care what they think."

"You did this morning."

"No, I didn’t. I cared what Jessica thought, part of me still does. But I’m not letting her or anyone else make my decisions for me. I need to take charge of my life, starting right now. I love you and I’m going to be with you, she needs to deal with it." She cast her eyes to the staircase. "Which way to your bedroom?"

They were words Brandon never thought he’d hear his beloved utter. "Upstairs, third door on the left. I can make it on my own, though."

"Oh no you don’t," she informed him. "You’re in so much pain you can barely walk. Just keep the ice pack on your nose and let me help you."

"Peyton, I doubt you’ll be very much help with a broken leg," he argued. "I weight a hundred and eighty pounds, you weight what? One-ten soaking wet?"

"One-fifteen, now shut up."

Realizing there was no point in arguing with her, Brandon kept his mouth shut as they hobbled up the stairs to his bedroom. Though he’d never admit it to his girlfriend, he doubted he could have made it up the stairs without her help. His knees threatened to buckle with every step he took, his nose pounded and the kick he’d taken to the stomach still knocked the wind out of him.

Once inside his bedroom, Peyton led him to the bed. Brandon thanked God he’d cleaned up his room that morning before school; he didn’t want Peyton thinking he was a slob. With a grunt, he sat on the double bed.

"Do you need anything?" Peyton asked as he swung his legs onto the mattress and attempted to untie his sneakers. But he had no luck, so she forced him to lay back while she did it for him.

Brandon shook his head. "I don’t think so."

"Are you sure? I can make you some soup. I’m excellent at using the microwave," she joked.

"Thanks anyway. We have a cook, if I get hungry I can just call down to her. Besides, gaping facial wounds and twisted insides don’t generally call for soup. I don’t have a cold."

She frowned. "I’m only trying to help."

"I know." He tried to sit up straighter but was unable to do so. Grimacing in pain, he gave up and fell back to the mattress.

"You’re such a baby."

"Don’t tell anyone. My stomach is absolutely killing me."

"Can I take a look? Is it black and blue? Do you need another ice pack for it?" she questioned. ‘Oh god, did I just ask him to see him without his shirt on? Bad Peyton!’

He could see the obvious embarrassment on her face. It was cute. "If you don’t mind taking off my shirt, we can find out together. I have no idea how bruised it is."

"All right." ‘Man, I’m gonna be undressing him. Okay, well, sort of. I’m living every girl’s fantasy right here in his bedroom,’ she thought. With trembling hands, she lifted the white t-shirt Brandon wore over his head after sitting him back up. Peyton tried her best not to look but to no avail. The sight of his naked chest was too tempting.

From the t-shirts he wore all the time, she knew he had to work out. His arms were muscled, as was his torso. He had tanned skin, a light shade of bronze that came from spending a great deal of time swimming in the pool at his grandmother’s house. Peyton was able to make out a distinct six-pack of abs under the gross black and blue marks forming on the skin around it. His chest was completely devoid of hair except for a thin line of dark hair that ran from his belly button to below the waistband of his jeans. She didn’t want to look lower than that for fear of where her imagination would take her.

"You *are* black and blue," she said. Her left hand seemed to develop a mind of its own and softly ran along the tender skin. He jumped from her touch. "Does that hurt?"

Brandon couldn’t tell her how wonderful it felt to have her touch him. "No. I-I think it’s starting to feel better now."

"Let’s see your nose." When Brandon removed the ice pack, she could see how swollen it was. "That’s going to be a nasty shade of several different colors tomorrow morning. Does it still bother you?"

"A little. Maybe if you kissed it the pain will go away."

Peyton smirked, catching on to the game he was playing. "Really? So a kiss is the miracle cure for all that ails you?"

"No, but it certainly keeps my mind off the pain."

"In that case..."

She gently pushed him back to the mattress and laid down next to him. Placing her right hand on the side of his face, she turned it so she could give him what he wanted. The kiss started out achingly slow, Peyton afraid if she kissed him too hard she’d hurt him. It became obvious Brandon wasn’t in much pain when he pulled her closer to him, finally placing her entire body on top of his. He ignored the throbbing pain in his gut when the full weight of Peyton’s body fell horizontally on him. Not that he really cared at that point. All that mattered was the taste of her lips and the feel of her tongue dueling with his.

While Peyton’s hands busied themselves by touching his face, Brandon’s were a bit more bold. He slid them down her sides before slipping under her tank top. They skimmed across her warm skin, finding the clasp of her black lace bra. He didn’t attempt to unlatch it, knowing it was too soon for them. Instead, he moved his left hand over and ran the tips of his fingers along the side of her breast, which was pressed against his chest.

Part of him expected her to roll off of him and he found himself pleasantly surprised when she only moaned in his mouth, exploring his own body with her right hand. Her thighs straddled his right leg, so he bent his knee to apply some pressure and relief for her. Continuing to hear no objections on his girlfriend’s part, Brandon took the opportunity to remove her tank top.

He wondered how far things would go between them but never got the chance to find out for sure. His bedroom door burst open and his sister stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips. "Should have known you’d be skipping school to get laid."

Peyton practically jumped off of him while Brandon lay there, shooting daggers at his older sister. "Katie, what have I told you about knocking before coming into my room?" he asked heatedly.

Katie glanced ta his bed partner. She didn’t know whether or not to be surprised that it was Peyton Kendall. She’d figured her brother would take what he wanted from her and let it be done. Unless he hadn’t gotten what he wanted. "I came in here because I was concerned, believe it or not. I saw your car in the driveway and wondered if you were okay. So sue me. Only instead I find you in quite the compromising position with Peyton."

"Brandon got hurt at school," Peyton tried to explain.

"And you were kissing it and making him all better?" she asked sarcastically. "Spare me. I’m going downstairs to study, try to keep the orgasms down to a dull roar."

Brandon waited until his sister closed the door before speaking. "I’m sorry, Peyton. My sister is rude, crude and doesn’t think before she speaks."

She stood up, not paying attention to Brandon’s lust-filled gaze at her bra-clad breasts. Reaching down, she picked up her tank top and put it back on. "I think maybe that was just a little too fast for me."

"I guess I’m not really good at slow," he admitted. "Dating is sort of new to me."

"I’m not ready for this yet," Peyton told him. "I’m sorry, Brandon."

"Don’t be sorry. I can wait as long as you want."

She eyed him. "How long are you willing to wait? A couple weeks? A month or two? What’s a realistic time frame for you?"

"Where’s this coming from?" Brandon wanted to know.

"I’ve never had sex before. I made Nick wait for years; we dated for almost three years and I never let him make love to me, though not for lack of trying on his part. Are you willing to wait as long?"

"I’d wait forever for you."

"Even if it means waiting until our wedding night?" she asked him. "I’m gonna be frank with you, Brandon. Your reputation for being...well, a sex fiend for lack of a better term hasn’t gone unnoticed by me. And I have every intention of remaining a virgin until I get married. It’s just that I want to wait until I’m one hundred percent sure I’m with the right guy. I don’t want to sleep with some random guy off the street, I plan on making love to one man my entire life. If you can’t handle that, please tell me now before things go further than they already have."

Brandon was astounded by her admission. He’d known she was a virgin, but didn’t realize her reasons why. "I can wait, Peyton. Sex is fun and it’s great, I’m not going to deny that. But I am also not going to pressure you into something you’re not ready for. I’m perfectly content to be in your presence and show you how much I love you in other ways. And if you decide you want to take that step with me, I’ll be the happiest and luckiest man alive. If not, I just want to be with you now. In any way you’ll have me."

***

32

"Your newest fuck toy is home safe and sound," Katie informed her brother an hour later. He’d asked her to drive Peyton home because they’d driven his car to the house, and he wasn’t about to make her walk home.

"Don’t call her that." Brandon struggled to sit up in bed.

She watched with amusement at her brother’s difficulties in moving. It was too enjoyable to watch for her to offer her help. "You’re getting awfully defensive. Tell me, did you manage to nail Little Miss Goody Two Shoes? I know you’ve been working on getting in her pants for some time now."

"Go to Hell," he retorted.

"Ooh, snappy comeback, Bran. You *do* realize this latest escapade of yours is going to cost you big time. I mean, we’re talking about you screwing the daughter of Dad’s worst enemy. Plus, didn’t her parents forbid her from seeing you? I could blackmail you from here to eternity." Katie laughed maniacally. "Three hundred should buy my silence. One-fifty to keep me from telling Dad, another one-fifty so I don’t tell the Kendalls what their precious daughter is up to. Will that be cash or check?"

"Tell them, I don’t care. You won’t get one red penny out of me. I love Peyton."

She raised her eyebrows. "Love? Is that what you told her to get her guard down? Gotta say, that’s a new one for you."

"Believe what you want to believe, Katie. It’s the truth. And nothing happened in here. Do I look like I’m in any condition to have sex? I can barely move. I got into a fight at school, the principal sent me home early to recuperate and Peyton came with me to make sure I got home safely."

Katie took in her brother’s appearance. His nose was red and swollen, his upper lip bloodied and bruised, his stomach severely black and blue. He looked like he’d been run over by a two ton semi. "If you look *this* bad, I’d hate to see what the other guy looks like."

"He doesn’t have a scratch on him. Not that I wouldn’t have loved to pound his pretty boy face in."

"What stupid idiot would try to take you on?" Katie wanted to know. "I thought everyone at James Madison High agreed you were scary."

"That’s the general consensus around there," Brandon said, putting the ice pack back on his nose. "Unfortunately, Nick Duffy didn’t get the memo and decided to take me on anyway. You know, he’s Peyton’s abusive fuck of an ex-boyfriend."

She smirked. "So, she felt bad about the beating you took and thought she’d kiss away the pain? How very Florence Nightingale of her."

"Look, I don’t expect you to understand. I love her, I’ve loved her for a long time now. And now we’re together, a couple. I’m one half of a couple! And apparently Nick Duffy can’t handle not having Peyton around to use as his personal punching bag. We were kissing and he punched me in the nose. Then he kicked me in the stomach."

"And you stood there and took it from that bastard?" she asked incredulously. That wasn’t like her younger brother at all. "Why didn’t you hit him back?"

Brandon took a deep breath. It hurt to do so. "I wanted to; I wanted to more than anything. He was just begging for it, but Peyton told me not to. She said I’d get into trouble and risk not graduating. She was right. If I’d hit him back I would have gotten into worse trouble than he did. Nick got suspended for two weeks. I got sent home with a bloody nose. I was lucky Peyton was there to hold me back."

"You’re not going to be so lucky when Dad gets home and sees your face. I’m willing to bet all hell breaks loose."

***

"Where have you been?" Mrs. Kendall questioned when Peyton walked in the front door. "Mr. Bannerman called and told me you were involved in a fight at school and being sent home early. That was an hour-and-a-half ago, Peyton!"

Peyton didn’t feel like answering any of her mother’s questions. She was determined to keep up the silent treatment she’d begun the night before. "I went out. Is that a problem?"

"I was worried."

"I’m sure you were."

"Don’t use that tone of voice with me, young lady," her mother warned. "I get a phone call from your principal saying you were in a fight at school today and then you neglect to come right home when he sends you home. Damn right I was worried. I demand to know what happened and where you went."

Peyton narrowed her blue eyes into paper-thin slits. "You want to know what happened? Fine. I was kissing my *boyfriend* in the hall after lunch and Nick punched him. Brandon got a bruised nose and his stomach kicked in, he never even hit Nick back! So Nick got his ass suspended for two weeks and Brandon was just sent home because of his injuries. I went home with him and took care of him for a while. He was in pain. His sister Katie drove me home. Do you want more details or is that enough for you?"

"Your father was quite adamant about you not seeing Brandon anymore."

"I don’t care, Mom! I love him and he loves me. We had this discussion last night, but I don’t recall you coming to my defense once. I remember you sitting at the table staring at your dinner," Peyton shot.

"Your father and I only have your best interests at heart. We were hoping you had learned your lesson after your breakup with Nick. Brandon isn’t right for you."

Aggravated, the teenager threw her crutches to the ground. "What is with your Stepford Wife routine?" she demanded. "Friday night you let him take me out to the Prom. Saturday you said we made a cute couple. Sunday morning you said you’d talk to Dad about letting me see Brandon. Now all of a sudden he’s bad for me? I’d like a reasonable explanation as to why."

"He won’t treat you the way you should be treated."

"And Nick did? Please."

"Brandon doesn’t hurt girls like you with his hands the way Nick did. No, he uses other means. His reputation precedes him," Mrs. Kendall tried to reason.

Peyton’s jaw dropped. "I get it. You and Dad are afraid I’m going to sleep with him and get my heart broken. Well guess what? Brandon and I already had that talk today, Mom. He knows I want to wait until I’m married, he’s fine with it. He’s not going to pressure me. He loves me."

"That’s all well and good, honey, but–"

"But nothing! I will be eighteen years old in three weeks, and if I decide at that point to have sex with him, I will!" Peyton shouted. "You and Dad and the rest of the world can try to keep me away from Brandon until then, go right ahead. But the day I turn eighteen, you can’t stop me from being with him. Nothing will stop me."

***

After dinner that night, Eric called Peyton to see if she was okay. He’d been worried about her all afternoon. "He didn’t hurt you at all, did he?"

Peyton was touched by her friend’s concern. "No, he didn’t hurt me. Just pushed me into a crowd of people. God, I can’t wait to get this damn cast off tomorrow!"

"There’s a rumor going around school that Nick broke Brandon’s nose. Any truth to it?"

"None whatsoever. Brandon is really banged up, though. His nose is very swollen and his stomach is all black and blue from where Nick kicked him," Peyton informed him.

"You saw him naked?!" Eric exclaimed.

She sighed. "No, I didn’t see him naked. I took his shirt off so I could see how hurt he was. You’re trying to turn it into something sleazy."

"So there was no game of ‘If you show me yours, I’ll show you mine’?" he teased.

"Eric..."

"Sorry, I couldn’t resist. I just find it hard to believe there was no naughty touching involved."

"Well, I never said there wasn’t any touching," she said. "I’m actually kinda surprised you’re even talking to me. Jessica’s pretty pissed at me and I figured she’d have gotten to you."

"She is pissed. But that doesn’t make her right. Do you love him, Peyton?" he asked her. Part of him didn’t want to know the answer because he knew it would break his heart.

"Yes, very much. And he loves me back. He hasn’t given me any reason to doubt him; his intentions are completely honorable."

Eric bit his bottom lip. "So it’s safe to assume you and Brandon are dating."

"Yes. I know you don’t like him, so please try to be civil."

"For you. But if he hurts you I *will* kill him. Got it?"

"Got it."

"I’d like you to do me a favor, though."

His request left her curious. "What kind of favor do you need?"

"Talk to Jess. Try to work things out with her. I hate seeing you two so angry with each other. You’re best friends, you can get past it."

Peyton shook her head. "No. She was way out of line on Saturday when she said those things to me. Jessica needs to accept the reality that Brandon and I are together. If she can’t do that, I see no point in a friendship with her. I have nothing to apologize for. If our friendship means anything to her, she can admit she was wrong and selfish and say she’s sorry. I’m not going out of my way to make things right. She can take the first step."

***

33

Wednesday morning was the next time Eric had Chemistry Lab with Brandon. He’d promised Peyton to be civil to her boyfriend and had every intention of keeping his promise to her. From their conversation Monday night, he could tell how much his friend loved Brandon. And if he couldn’t be with Peyton himself, Eric only wanted her to be happy with whomever she chose to love. Even if it ended up being Brandon Thurston.

"I guess you know Peyton got her cast off yesterday afternoon," Eric said, trying to make small talk with his partner.

"Yeah, I know. She called me last night and went on and on about how happy she is to be able to wear socks and sneakers again," Brandon told him.

Eric took a deep breath in preparation. He wanted to broach the subject carefully. "Look, I know she was on your bike when the accident happened. And I know the circumstances behind it. Nick Duffy needs to have his head bashed in for all the shit he’s put Peyton through."

"I agree. And I’ve never denied being the driver of the motorcycle she was on. A deer cut in front of us and I couldn’t stop in time. We crashed. I felt horribly guilty for walking away with minor injuries when she had to suffer in a cast for six weeks. I have done my best to make it up to Peyton."

"I heard. You really proved yourself when you gave her a Prom. But I think just being there for her has been enough," her friend commented.

Brandon put down the beaker he held in his hand and turned to look at his lab partner. "Huh?"

"I’m not going to even deny the fact that I think Peyton is too good for you. She can probably do ten times better. But, Brandon, I have to say one thing in your defense. You stood up for her, took care of her, protected her from Nick when she really needed it the most. I know somewhere along the line she fell in love with you. That’s her choice and I have to live with it every day. But if you hurt her, use her or break her heart, I’ll kill you. Understood?"

Brandon nodded. He found it refreshing that Peyton had at least one friend willing to accept her relationship with him. "I got it. You have my word I’ll never hurt Peyton. I love her. I loved her before I knew who she was."

"What do you mean?" His statement confused Eric.

"She didn’t tell you?" he asked. "We actually met online right after she broke up with Nick. It’s not that I didn’t know who she was, I just didn’t pay much attention to her. Then we started talking on the internet; I was at school one afternoon when Nick was bothering her and everything snowballed from there. Eric, I meant it when I said I loved her. The moment I looked into her eyes I knew I wanted to protect her, be with her. And not in an I-Want-To-Have-Sex-With-You sort of way. I want to spend the rest of my life with Peyton. But I’m not going to step aside or deny my feelings because her friends can’t handle our relationship. That’s their problem, not mine."

Eric smiled, trying to hold back from laughing. At first he wondered if Brandon’s feelings for his friend were real, but one look in his eyes when he mentioned Peyton’s name and Eric believed him. He knew it was virtually impossible to fake the look of love in one’s eyes. "I’m guessing you know about Jessica’s hissy fit when she found out."

"Yeah, Peyton told me. She tried to break up with me Monday morning because of it. Not that I let her, of course. I personally can’t see what the big deal is. If she were a real friend, she’d be happy for Peyton."

"I made the same argument on Monday when she told me, but she’s being stubborn about it. Jess won’t listen to me, won’t listen to Peyton. She doesn’t get that she doesn’t have shot in hell with you. I can’t think of anyone else she *will* listen to."

Brandon had an idea. "How about me?"

***

After school Brandon pulled his car into the driveway of 4115 Ashland Parkway. It was a middle-class section of town, not as nice as the street he lived on, or the one Peyton lived on, but it was quaint and quiet. A few houses away two middle-schoolers played catch in the middle of the street. It seemed like the kind of neighborhood he’d want to raise a family.

He trudged up the steps to the front door, still sore from his fight with Nick on Monday afternoon. It pained him to lift his legs up the stairs, but he needed to do this. Taking a deep breath, he rang the doorbell.

A thirteen-year-old girl answered the door, her long blonde hair styled in two braids like Pippi Longstocking. Her brown eyes widened when she opened the door. "Hi. Who are you?"

Brandon tried to bend down, ignoring the searing pain in his gut. "Hiya. I’m Brandon. I’m here to see Jessica. Is she home?"

The girl nodded. "Yeah, she’s here. In her bedroom, sulking as usual. And I’m Amanda."

"Hi, Amanda. Can I talk to her?"

"I guess, hold on. But I’m not gonna let you in. My mom would kill me." Amanda Thomas walked away from the door. "Jessie! Get out here! There’s a hottie at the door wanting to see you!"

He lifted an eyebrow at Amanda’s use of the word "hottie" but wasn’t inclined to say anything. He knew he was good-looking and did not bother to deny it.

When Jessica came to the door, she stopped dead in her tracks upon seeing Brandon Thurston standing on her front porch. She didn’t have time to fix her hair, so she bit her lip hoping she looked relatively presentable. "B-Brandon. Hi. I never expected to see you at the door," she greeted. "I thought Amanda meant Eric was at the door. She calls him a hottie, too."

In all the years he attended school with her, he’d never actually looked closely at Jessica Thomas. He was sure he passed her in the halls hundreds of times and he never gave her a second glance. She was pretty, he couldn’t deny that, with shoulder-length dirty blonde hair and brown eyes. A little taller than Peyton, her figure more voluptuous. But when he thought of all the hateful words she said to her supposed best friend, Brandon found her less than attractive.

"Hello, Jessica. I came by to talk to you. Do you have a couple minutes free?"

"Uh-huh. I was just doing my homework. You can come inside, there are homemade cookies in the kitchen if you’re hungry," she said, opening the screen door to let him inside.

Stepping inside, Brandon shook his head at her offer of cookies and took a seat on the gray upholstered couch while Jessica sat on the recliner a few feet away. "How’s your nose? I heard about your fight with Nick the other day."

Brandon shrugged his shoulders. "Hurts. So does my stomach from where he kicked me. That’s not why I came by, though."

"Peyton. Everything’s always about Peyton."

"You sound bitter," he remarked, noting Jessica’s biting tone.

"Gee, why would I be bitter?" she growled. "Peyton’s perfect. She gets everything she wants, and sometimes things that I want."

"Like me?"

She snapped her head upwards, her brown eyes practically black with barely-contained anger. "Who’d you hear that from?"

"A few people."

"Eric and Peyton? Wouldn’t surprise me. Peyton and I had a fight and she’s trying to get back at me. She knows what she did to me was wrong and she doesn’t even care! If she were any kind of friend, she would fix it."

"That’s why I’m here. I need to make you see how things really are, Jessica. I know you’re hurt and angry, and if I were you I’d be downright pissed," Brandon said. "You have to understand what’s going on."

Jessica sighed. She couldn’t believe it; the man she obsessed over for the better part of her formative years was sitting in her living room giving her a lecture. "I know very well what’s going on. My best friend stabbed me in the back. She took the one thing she knew I wanted."

"It wasn’t on purpose. You know that."

"Wasn’t it? She stayed with Nick for years, letting him hit her and punch her and verbally abuse her," Jessica stated. "When she finally gets the balls to dump him, who does she run to? You. Brandon, you should have heard some of the things she used to say about you. She wouldn’t seem to sweet and perfect if you knew."

"You can’t turn me against against her. I’m sure she said those things before she got to know me. And I’m even more sure she was right."

"I don’t believe it. You’re still defending her! Peyton’s fearless champion. You don’t know her half as well as you think you do."

Brandon couldn’t stand listening to Jessica badmouth Peyton. "I don’t even know why I’m wasting my time here. Maybe I was hoping you’d see for yourself what a big mistake you’re making by cutting Peyton out of your life. But I guess I’m just going to have to spell it out for you. I. Don’t. Love. You. I love Peyton! She’s my girlfriend. And if you can’t handle that or refuse to accept it, that’s your problem. Just don’t go filling her mind with your nonsense and petty jealousy. She already tried to break up with me once this week because of you, I’ll be damned if you come between us again. Get it through your thick skull, I will *never* love you like I love Peyton. A real friend would be happy for her. Why don’t you try being a real friend for once."

***

34

Jessica spent the rest of the night thinking about what Brandon said to her. She kept replaying his words over and over again in her mind. "I love Peyton! I will *never* love you like I love Peyton. I will *never* love you..." After spending half the night crying, Jessica realized she had no chance of being with him. The man she loved obviously loved her best friend. And there was nothing she could do about it.

The first thing she did when arriving at school Thursday morning was head for Peyton’s locker. Not surprisingly she found her standing there with Brandon to her side, holding her backpack while she placed books inside. What did surprise her was the sight of her best friend wearing Brandon’s leather jacket. It made her want to start crying all over again.

"Peyton? Can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked her friend upon reaching her locker. Jessica tried to avoid looking at Brandon; her wounds were too fresh.

The brunette widened her blue eyes in shock but did not say anything. Brandon, on the other hand, looked unphased by Jessica’s sudden appearance. "I’ll leave you two alone to talk. See you at lunch, Peyton." Bending his head down, he planted a kiss on the top of her head and walked toward his own locker down the hall.

"What can I do for you?" Peyton asked formally. "By the way, I’m not in the mood to hear you bitch about me and Brandon dating. Either be happy for us or go away."

"That’s why I’m here," Jessica told her, taking a deep breath in preparation for swallowing her pride. "I want to apologize for totally blowing the whole situation out of proportion. Look, I know you didn’t do it on purpose. It’s not like you can choose who you fall in love with. We didn’t choose to fall in love with the same person."

"And you thought I’d choose to fall in love with Brandon? I always thought you knew me better than that, Jessie."

She nodded. "I know. You didn’t do it to hurt me, I get that. And I want you to know I harbor no resentment towards you. I just want you to be happy, even if that means being happy with someone I have feelings for. Peyton, I don’t expect your forgiveness, at least not right away. But I want things to go back to the way they were."

Peyton shook her head. Jessica’s turnaround was too sudden for her. "I don’t know if things can ever go back to the way they were. You said so many mean and hurtful things to me and about me. How do I know you’re not going to do the same thing in a week? How can I confide in you without being afraid you’ll use it against me, or throw it in my face? You’re asking me to take a lot on faith. Faith I don’t have in you anymore."

"We’re supposed to be best friends; supposed to be able to tell each other everything. I haven’t been the best best friend to you lately, but I want to be again. I was wrong."

"Why the sudden change of heart?" Peyton wanted to know. "Forty-eight hours ago you hated the idea of me dating Brandon. Now you’re happy for us?"

"Brandon came by to see me yesterday afternoon. He and I had a long talk about how much I hurt you." She paused. "Okay, Brandon did the talking and I begrudgingly listened. He basically said I was acting like a spoiled brat and that I needed to get over it. Then he went on to say over and over again how much he loves you and that he will never, *ever* love me. All I have to do is look at him and see how happy and contented he seems when he’s around you. Look, I don’t know if you two are meant to be together forever or not, but I’m not going to stand in your way or be a brat about it. I want you to be happy, even if it means you being happy with Brandon."

She stood in silence for several seconds. "Let me get this straight. Brandon stopped over your house yesterday and convinced you to get over it?"

"Yeah. I was wrong, I hope you can forgive me."

"Forgiveness isn’t something I can just give you right away. You have to earn it. Do you know I tried to break up with him on Monday because I didn’t want to hurt you? I almost gave up the best thing in my life," Peyton informed her. "I’m not going to forget this, Jessica. You almost cost me someone I love, so do *not* expect things to go back to the way they were. You’re going to have to work really hard at regaining my trust."

"I will, I promise. Friends again?"

Peyton gave her a small smile. "Friends."

***

When Brandon sat down at the lunch table later that day, he was greeted by the sight of a not-so-happy-to-see-him Peyton. He wondered if it had anything to do with Jessica. "Hey, love. Is something bothering you?"

"Jessica and I had a talk this morning, remember? She mentioned you stopped by her house to talk to her yesterday after school. Why didn’t you say anything to me about it?" she questioned.

"Did you two patch things up?"

"In a manner of speaking. But you didn’t answer my question, Brandon. I don’t like it when people keep secrets from me. You’re going to have to be completely honest with me if you want to be in this relationship. Why didn’t you tell me?"

He shrugged his broad shoulders. When he visited Jessica, Brandon never imagined Peyton would be so upset by it. "Truthfully, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, Peyton. I just wanted you to have your best friend back. I was talking to Eric yesterday morning in Chem Lab and he was saying how Jessica wasn’t listening to him whenever he tried to talk to her about us. So I thought maybe she’d get the picture if *I* explained things. I didn’t go over there to hurt her or upset you in any way. She needed to hear it from me that I love you and only you. Not her, I’ll never love her. You’re the only one for me. Did it get through to her?"

Peyton nodded her head. "As much as I wish you had told me what you were going to do, yeah, you got through to her. She apologized and said she knows now that you’ll never love her the way you love me."

"I tried to let her down as easy as I could," Brandon explained. "That girl is *so* stubborn. It took me ten minutes of convincing."

"Oh yeah. I told her I couldn’t just forgive and forget because the things she said were so hurtful. But we made up. Although she knows I’m not going to be confiding in her about my sex life for a long time."

Brandon lifted his eyebrows in interest. "Your sex life? Did I miss something important?"

She laughed. "No, you didn’t miss anything. I was using a metaphor."

"Oh."

"But I never said I wasn’t open to some exploratory fooling around," she added with a sly smile, rubbing her leg against his.

"Does the fooling around including groping of any kind?" he asked hopefully.

Peyton smirked. "If you play your cards right, you might get a little action tomorrow night. Tonight I’m punishing you for going behind my back and talking to Jessica. Promise me you’ll never do something like that again without telling me first."

"You got it."

***

35

The dinner table was completely silent except for the sounds of forks clanking against their plates and the occasional slurp. Things had been tense at the Kendall household for nearly two months, ever since Peyton’s motorcycle accident, and things were even more strained in the weeks following Prom. Peyton continued to give her parents the silent treatment for not allowing her to see Brandon publicly.

"Peyton, honey, I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that you’re birthday is coming up next week," her mother told her, shattering the silence they’d been blanketed in. "Any ideas on what you’d like us to get you?"

"Nothing," she replied shortly, never looking up from her dinner.

Mr. Kendall put down his fork and glared angrily at his teenage daughter. "Your mother asked you a simple question, young lady. I expect you to answer her back in a civil tone of voice. If you can’t do that, perhaps you should go up to your bedroom without the rest of your dinner."

"Fine. I don’t want you to buy me anything for my birthday. What I want you won’t give me anyway. Why bother asking?"

"And what exactly do you want?"

She looked her father dead in the eye. "You know what I want, Dad. The same thing I’ve been asking for for months. Let me go out with Brandon. Stop being such a stubborn asshole and let me be happy."

"You’re treading on very thin ice, Peyton," he warned, his tone deadly serious. "You’d better watch what you say to me."

"I don’t get it, then. Why even bother asking me what I want if you won’t give it to me? It’s not like I’m asking you for a brand new car or something; just let me be with the person I love. Is that too much to ask?" Peyton demanded.

"The answer is no. It will continue to be no."

She folded her arms across her chest. "You can’t stop me from seeing him once I turn eighteen. I’ll be a legal adult in less than a week. I’ll be able to date whomever I want to date and you’ll have absolutely no say in it."

Mr. Kendall fumed. "Like hell I won’t, Peyton Elizabeth. As long as you live under my roof, you’ll live by my rules. And the rules in this house state that you are *never* to date Brandon Thurston."

She stood up and stared him down. Her father didn’t intimidate her. "Guess it’s a good thing I’ll be moving into the dorms in the middle of August. Then I won’t be living under your roof," she shot back at her father before stomping out of the kitchen.

Mrs. Kendall waited until she heard her daughter’s bedroom door slam shut before speaking. "Charles, I am getting so tired of all this bickering and/or complete silence between you two. I don’t see what the big deal is with allowing Peyton to see Brandon Thurston. It’s fairly obvious she’s miserable without him. Shouldn’t we be putting her happiness first?"

"I *am* putting our daughter’s happiness first," he reiterated. "If I didn’t care, I’d let her go gallivanting around town with that sorry excuse of a man. Keeping her away from Brandon Thurston is for her own good, whether she sees it that way or not."

"Even if it means your only child hating you?" she questioned.

He sighed heavily. "It’s only for today. Mary Beth, if Peyton had asked me for a new sports car for her birthday, I’d have happily bought it for her. There is no price tag on my baby’s happiness. But Brandon comes with a price so high, not even *I’m* willing to pay it. I guarantee he’s just a phase. All teenagers go through a rebellious period and this is Peyton’s. It’s her bad boy phase, Brandon Thurston being the ultimate bad boy. Trust me on this, she’ll move on once she realizes what kind of man he really is. Then she’ll be thanking me for saving her the heartache of a relationship with him."

"You make it seem so simple," his wife commented. "The only problem is that it isn’t quite so simple. You weren’t here the night of the Prom when Brandon planned an entire evening for them. You didn’t see Peyton in that beautiful dress his grandmother had sent in from New York especially for her. Nor did you see how happy she was when she came home. And do you want to know what I wish you’d seen? The look of love and devotion in Brandon’s eyes when Peyton came into the room. That boy isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. You may just have to deal with him being a part of her life. A permanent part."

He shook his head in disagreement. "Not him. No, he’ll take what he’s after and leave behind our poor daughter, hurt and brokenhearted. That’s what I’m trying to avoid."

***

"Can I come in, Peyton?" Mrs. Kendall asked her daughter an hour later.

Peyton shrugged her shoulders as her mother entered the room. "Does it make a difference if I say no? You’re already in, you might as well just come in all the way. What do you want? I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone right now."

"Your dad went for a walk, I thought we could use this opportunity to talk about what happened at dinner tonight. Honey, I only want what’s best for you. Your dad, too."

"If you really mean that you’d accept that I love Brandon and that he loves me. Why is it so hard for you guys to comprehend?"

"Honey, I understand it. I saw you two that night, how happy and in love you two looked. But your father is taking out his intense dislike for the Thurstons out on you and Brandon, which I don’t necessarily agree with. He’s not going to budge one inch, either. Which is why I’m coming to you with a compromise," her mother said.

She raised her eyebrows in interest. "A compromise?"

"Yes. I’ll allow you to go out with Brandon to celebrate your birthday next Friday night. Only if you ease up on the silent treatment. Do we have a deal?"

"Is this some kind of trick?"

Mrs. Kendall shook her head. "No trick, no stipulations other than being a bit more friendly to us. Your father has a late meeting next Friday as well as a solid deadline, I don’t expect him home much before one in the morning. I’ll let you go out to dinner with Brandon but you have to be home by midnight so he doesn’t get suspicious."

"I can’t believe you’re doing this for me," Peyton stated incredulously.

Her mother smiled. "Just consider it your birthday present. But your father is *not* to know about this. If he finds out all bets are off. And our heads will be on a silver platter."

Peyton got off the bed and threw her arms around her mother. "Mom, thank you so much. You don’t know how much this means to me. I have to call Brandon and tell him the good news!"

***

Evelyn Thurston couldn’t help noticing the marked change in her grandson’s demeanor when he turned off his cell phone. He’d stopped by for his weekly visit when it rang. "I’m going to assume by the look on your face that Peyton was on the other line."

Glancing up, he grinned at her. "You got that right, Grandma. I’ve never heard her so happy! Her mother gave her permission to go out with me next Friday night. I’m taking her out for her birthday dinner."

"Her eighteenth birthday?" she surmised.

"Yep. Now I have to make reservations someplace really nice. God, I hope I can find someplace still accepting reservations. Any ideas?"

"You could have her birthday dinner here, Brandon," his grandmother suggested. "I happen to know for fact you’re a pretty mean cook, having learned from yours truly. Make her dinner, it’ll be even more special than some overpriced restaurant with crappy service. And much more private."

Brandon nodded, liking his grandmother’s suggestion. "That’s a great idea. Why didn’t I think of that?"

"Because no matter how much you may be in touch with your feminine side, you’re still a man. What about her birthday present? What did you get her?"

"Nothing yet. I want to get her something that shows her how much I love her and how committed I am to our relationship. I’ve been to every jewelry store in town and no one has the right thing," he complained.

She brightened and stood up, waiting for her grandson to follow in suit. "I think I have just what you’re looking for. Come on and I’ll show you."

***

36

"Did Brandon say where he’s taking you for your birthday dinner?" Mrs. Kendall asked her daughter the Friday after her eighteenth birthday. Brandon was supposed to be picking her up in a couple minutes for their date.

Peyton shook her head, twirling around in front of the full-length mirror. She wore a knee-length, sleeveless black dress with a high neck that reached the hollow of her throat. On her feet she had on a pair of black heels and her brown hair pulled back with a clip. "Not a clue, Mom. He just said it’s a special dinner and to dress nice. It’s obviously not a trip to McDonald’s, so I’m actually curious to see where he’s taking me."

"Wherever it is, I hope you have a good time."

She looked at her mother and gave her a slight smile. "I didn’t get a chance to say it earlier with Dad being around and everything, but thank you for doing this. I know you don’t approve of me seeing Brandon, and you doing this for me means a lot. He’s not as bad as Dad makes him out to be, Brandon’s changed. He loves me, he respects me and my choices. And I know you two are worried he’s going to hurt me or treat me the way he’s treated other girls, but you really don’t have to worry. I’m not going to sleep with him. We’re taking it slow, he knows I have no intention of having sex with him. Brandon’s okay with that. I just wish you and Dad would believe it."

"Honey, I saw the way he looked at you when he picked you up for the Prom. Brandon had the look of a man hopelessly in love," her mother noted. "I believe he’s changed."

"I don’t get it, Mom. If you know how he and I feel about each other, why aren’t you sticking up for us? Why do you keep taking Dad’s side when the subject is brought up?" Peyton wanted to know.

"It’s hard to explain; you’ll understand it better when you are married with children of your own. You know what your father is like, very pig-headed and stubborn. By keeping you away from Brandon, he thinks he’s doing you a favor," explained Mrs. Kendall. "You don’t see it now but in the long run, he honestly believes you will thank him for it."

"Doesn’t he see how happy Brandon makes me, and how miserable I am when I’m not allowed to see him?" Peyton questioned.

Her mother shrugged her shoulders, pushing a tendril of hair from her daughter’s face behind her ear. "He’ll figure it out eventually. Remember, pig-headed and stubborn. Give him some time to get used to the idea. I will try my best to help him come around, and until then I guess I’m gonna have to help you two sneak around."

She eyeballed her mother. "Who are you and what have you done with my real mother?"

"Don’t get smart, Peyton. I think of it this way, you’re eighteen years old and you are old enough to decide who you want to be with. And you’re old enough to deal with the ramifications of your choices."

***

Peyton dropped her napkin on the empty plate in front of her. She was stuffed after two helpings of homemade spaghetti and meatballs. When Brandon pulled up to his grandmother’s house, Peyton had to admit she had her doubts about what he had planned. Then he explained dinner was waiting for them inside. His grandmother stayed only long enough to wish Peyton a happy birthday and share a knowing glance with her grandson.

"Would you like more?" Brandon asked her.

"No! Oh my god, no. I couldn’t eat another bite; you’re going to need a bulldozer to get me out of here," she said. "Dinner was terrific, thank you. Much better than some overpriced Italian restaurant with crappy service. Although you have to tell me who catered this meal."

He lifted his eyebrows. "You enjoyed the spaghetti and meatballs?"

"Yes. Are you going to tell me or do I have to beat it out of you?" she mock threatened.

"I didn’t hire a caterer or order out from a restaurant. Believe it or not, I made it all myself. I made the sauce and meatballs from scratch yesterday evening. My grandma boiled the pasta while I was picking you up tonight, but other than that it was all my doing."

"You did all this for me?" she asked, disbelief apparent in her voice. Peyton couldn’t believe Brandon went to all that trouble for her. "Why?"

Brandon got up out of his chair and extended his hand to help his girlfriend from hers. "Because tonight’s special, Peyton. It’s your birthday." He led her to the living room and they sat down on the couch. "Okay, so technically Wednesday was your birthday, but you get the picture. I just wanted to do something special for you. Truthfully, it was my grandmother’s idea. If it were up to me we’d still be waiting for a table at one of those overpriced restaurants."

She snuggled closer to him on the couch. "I like this much better. Nobody will be staring at us when I lean over and do this."

Placing her right hand on his cheek, Peyton turned Brandon’s face toward her so she could gently kiss his lips. As the kiss deepened, Brandon pulled her hair from the clip holding it up and let it fall down her back, burying his hands in her chestnut tresses. His fingers tickled her neck while her right hand slid from his clean-shaven cheek down to his shirt, slipping between two buttons to stroke his chest.

When they stopped to come up for air, Brandon smiled shyly at her. "I still have to give you your birthday present, Peyton."

"You mean this wasn’t it?"

"Hardly." Reaching inside the end table drawer to his left, he pulled out a small velvet box. Taking a deep breath, he held it in his hand for Peyton to take. "Open it."

Gazing at it for a moment, she took it from him. She blinked several times upon seeing the box’s contents. Inside sat a gold ring with a small diamond in the center. Her mouth agape, Peyton lifted her eyes to look in Brandon’s brown ones. "This...This is for me?"

"If you like it, it is," he told her. "The ring belongs to my grandmother. And before you think I’m some loser who’s too cheap to buy his girlfriend a real birthday present, let me explain. My grandfather bought this ring for her on her eighteenth birthday, and that night the proposed to her. This was her engagement ring."

Peyton felt hot tears begin to burn her eyes. "You’re giving me your grandmother’s engagement ring? Why?" ‘Oh god, I hope he doesn’t think I’m being ungrateful,’ she thought.

"You don’t like the ring," Brandon guessed. "I shouldn’t have assumed you...it’s too soon."

"No! Brandon, the ring is perfect. I love it. I guess I’m just asking why you’re giving it to me."

"It’s not obvious? Because I love you. Because I can’t stand the thought of not being with you every minute of every day. I want you to wear the ring and know I can’t breathe without thinking of you, Peyton. I love you. I want to...I’m hoping you’ll say yes. I need...will you..." He had a whole speech prepared but the moment they sat down on the couch he felt tongue-tied.

Peyton swallowed the lump in the back of her throat. "Are you asking me to marry you, Brandon Thurston?"

His eyes widened into sauces. "Yes. No. I know it’s entirely too soon to expect that, especially after all the crap Nick Duffy put you through. I’m hoping you’ll keep the ring and wear it as a promise that maybe, someday, you’ll let me propose to you." He let out the breath he’d been holding. "You know, that sounded much better in my head than it actually came out. I had this whole speech planned and I was going to tell you how much you mean to me and how I can’t imagine my life without you in it. I should have known I’d screw it up. Look–"

"Yes."

"–if you don’t want...Yes?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"You’ll wear the ring?" He still couldn’t believe it. Brandon reached for her right hand to place the ring on her finger.

She jerked her hand away and thrust her left hand toward him. "No. I mean, yes I’ll marry you."

"You’ll what? You want to marry me?" ‘Please tell me my hearing isn’t going,’ he begged himself.

Again, Peyton nodded her head. "I want to marry you. Unless you don’t want to marry me."

"I do! I do want to marry you." He stopped to catch his breath for a moment. "I should do it properly, though, you deserve that much." Brandon slid off the couch and fell to one knee at Peyton’s feet. "Peyton Elizabeth Kendall, will you marry me?"

"Yes."

He put his grandmother’s ring on her finger, not the least bit surprised when it was a perfect fit. After the ring was securely in place on the ring finger of Peyton’s left hand, he scooped her into his arms so he could kiss his fiancée.

***

37

Saturday morning Peyton laid in bed, not wanting to get up and face the world quite yet. She’d been laying there for half an hour, thinking about what had transpired the night before. Twelve hours later and she was still in shock that Brandon proposed to her. ‘We’re engaged to be married. I’m his fiancee, eventually I’ll be his wife. Oh Lord, I’m gonna be somebody’s wife!’ she thought.

Since the moment Brandon put the ring on her finger, she had yet to take it off. Nor did she want to. It almost seemed unreal, like the entire evening was something she dreamt. But looking at the diamond ring and seeing it on her hand reminded her of how real it really was. Brandon *had* proposed to her, Brandon *wanted* to marry and spend the rest of his life with her. The realization of it boggled her mind.

She continued to stare at her engagement ring until she was broken out of her reverie by a knocking sound at her bedroom door. "Who is it?" she asked her visitor, hoping it was her mother. The last person she wanted to face was her father.

"It’s Mom, honey. Can I come in?"

"Yeah, sure."

Mrs. Kendall opened the door and closed it immediately behind her. She wasn’t surprised to see her teenage daughter still in bed. "Your father’s downstairs in the kitchen, I didn’t want him to accidentally overhear us talking. How was your date with Brandon last night?"

Peyton grinned like the Cheshire Cat from Alice In Wonderland. "I had the best night ever. Brandon took me to his grandmother’s house where he made me dinner. Homemade spaghetti and meatballs from scratch, french bread, sparkling water and a chocolate cake later on. Then we watched a movie. It was just sweet, you know? He went out of his way to do something special for me. And it meant more to me than any present he could have given me."

"He just made you dinner?" her mother questioned. She assumed Brandon would have bought her something nice.

Peyton nodded. She wasn’t ready to tell her mother about the engagement ring he gave her. It was too soon and her mother would never understand. "He wants me to go out with him tomorrow to pick something out for my birthday," she lied.

"Oh, that’s nice. I’m glad you had a good time, Peyton. And I am sure we can think of an excuse to get you out of the house without your father finding out where you’re going."

"I’m shocked you’re helping me sneak around. That’s so cool," commented her daughter.

"Honey, I don’t like lying to your father or going behind his back. But your happiness is the most important thing to me. As long as you are honest and up front with me about your relationship with Brandon, I’ll support you one hundred percent."

She twisted her engagement ring around her finger. It was hidden underneath the covers and she hoped it didn’t look too suspicious. "Honest and up front?" ‘Oh my god, does Mom know the truth? Do I have the look of a guilty engaged woman? Is there such a look? That’s it, my life is officially over.’ "You mean, like, tell you everything we do?"

"Not *everything*, but I would like to be kept in the loop. When it all becomes public knowledge, I don’t want any surprises. Which I’m assuming will be around the time you leave for college," Mrs. Kendall informed her. "Are we in agreement?"

"No surprises. Got it," Peyton agreed nervously. ‘I’m totally dead.’

***

"Is everything okay?" Jessica asked Peyton later that afternoon. Her best friend called her up an hour earlier sounding distressed and begged to meet her for an early dinner at Denny’s. "You sounded like you were having an anxiety attack when you called."

Peyton bit her lip so hard she drew blood. She’d been walking around on pins and needles all day long and desperately needed someone to talk to. "I feel like I am, Jess. Do you remember when I told you a couple weeks ago you’d need to earn my trust again?"

"Uh-huh. And I’m trying."

"This is your chance to prove it." She laid her palm flat on the table, letting her diamond ring catch the light from the overhead lamp. "I need to tell someone about this and you’re the first person who came to mind."

Jessica stared at the ring, awestruck. It wasn’t flashy, but she thought it was beautiful. "Oh my god, Peyton. Is that what I think it is?"

"Depends on what you’re thinking."

"A diamond ring on your left ring finger. A boyfriend who loves you and would do anything for you. And your eighteenth birthday just the other day, thus making you of legal age. Not to mention I saw you yesterday at school and you weren’t sporting that rock. Did Brandon propose to you?" she asked.

The brunette nodded her head. "Sorta."

"Sorta? He either did or he didn’t."

"I guess I made him propose, then. He gave me the ring last night but I don’t think he meant to propose to me. This ring was his grandmother’s engagement ring and he started asking me if I’d wear it and let him propose someday. Brandon got all tongue-tied, so I just said I’d marry him," Peyton explained.

"So he didn’t actually ask you?"

"No, he did after. Did the whole getting down on one knee thing and asked me to marry him. We’re engaged; he and I are going to get married," she stated. "I wanted you to be the first to know."

Her best friend smiled. Despite the fact that it pained her to know Brandon chose to spend his life with her best friend, she couldn’t help but be happy for them. She knew his feelings for Peyton were real, Brandon Thurston wouldn’t propose to just anyone. And she could see how much Peyton loved him. "Thank you for telling me. Believe it or not, I’m happy for you two."

"I want you to be happy for us, Jessie. I didn’t tell you to rub it in your face. I told you because I know you’ll understand how important this is to me, and I know you will keep it a secret."

"I will, I promise. No one else knows?"

She shook her head. "Just you, me, Brandon and whoever he decided to tell. He doesn’t have many guy friends, so he probably told his grandmother. They’re really close."

"How long do you think you can keep it a secret from your parents?" Jessica wanted to know. "If you’re wearing a diamond ring on your finger, you gotta know they’re gonna figure out something’s going on."

"My mom’s being really supportive of me dating Brandon. At least this week she is. I don’t think I can spring this on her quite yet, she might go postal if she finds out I’m engaged to him. And my dad will probably hunt him down and kill him, then ground me for the rest of my natural life. Anyway, I’m hoping if I put the ring on a chain around my neck, they won’t suspect anything until after I leave for college. Then I can do whatever I want. I can see Brandon whenever I want because they won’t be there to stop me. Two months. I’m counting down."

"I hope you know what you’re doing, Peyton."

"I do. Trust me, I know exactly what I’m doing."

***

38

"What do you think the chances are of you being able to sneak out and have dinner with me and my grandma tomorrow night?" Brandon asked Peyton Saturday evening. "My parents and Katie are in Los Angeles until Wednesday and I thought we could give her the good news together."

Even though she knew he couldn’t see her as they were talking over the phone, she nodded her head. "I think the chances are pretty good. I told Mom this morning that you wanted to take me out shopping for my present anyway. Swinging dinner shouldn’t be too difficult."

"I take it you haven’t told her," he surmised.

"That would be a big fat no. I don’t particularly care to rock the boat at this point, especially when she’s being so cool about us seeing each other. Dad, on the other hand..." She let the sentence trail off.

"Would want my head on a silver platter for touching his baby girl," Brandon finished, understanding what his fiancee was saying.

Peyton sighed. "Pretty much. So I think I’m gonna hold off on telling them right away. I hope you’re okay with that."

But he wasn’t. Brandon couldn’t wait to tell the world Peyton Kendall was going to be his wife. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops, take out a full-page ad in the newspaper and hold a press conference on television. "It’s all right, I guess. I mean, I wish we could tell everyone that we’re engaged, but if you want to wait, that’s okay by me."

"Well, have you told *your* parents?" It seemed unfair to her that he would expect her to tell her parents when he had yet to tell his.

"They’re out of town," Brandon reminded her.

"Okay, but hypothetically speaking, if your parents *were* in town, would you have told them?" she questioned him.

Brandon furrowed his brow. What was wrong with Peyton, why was she being so snippy with him? "Peyton, what’s with the attitude? What’s wrong? You’re snapping on me for no reason."

She chewed on the inside of her cheek. "I’m sorry, it’s just that I don’t get why it’s okay for you to keep this a secret from your family but I have to tell mine."

"I wasn’t implying that at all. I know why you don’t want to tell your parents. And I have no problem telling my parents we’re engaged; I’ll call them up right now and give them the news. Although I’d miss seeing my mother faint and my dad’s head explode. I mean, if you want to keep it a secret, that’s fine by me, we don’t have to tell my grandmother. I thought since she gave me the ring to give to you, it would be okay to tell her. But if you’re not comfortable with it–"

"No, it’s okay. I don’t think your grandmother’s gonna go off the deep end the way my parents will. Besides, I already told Jessica about it."

Brandon lifted his eyebrows in interest. "You told her? How did she take the news? She didn’t bitch slap you, did she?"

His fiancée laughed at his comment. "For your information, she did *not* bitch slap me. She took it surprisingly well, which shocked the hell out of me. Jessie promised to keep it a secret as a way of earning back my trust."

"Do you think she’ll actually keep it a secret?" he wanted to know.

"Yeah, I believe her. She knows I’ll never be able to forgive her if she tells anyone. I trust her not to even tell Eric. He *definitely* won’t be too happy," Peyton noted.

"He may be helping your father put my head on that silver platter," joked Brandon. "The guy can’t stand me, he’s said so himself."

"Since when do you care what people think about you?"

"I don’t. But it would be nice if your friends didn’t think of me as the scum of the earth."

She laughed at him once again. "They don’t think of you as the scum of the earth, Brandon. Eric is just really protective of me after the way Nick treated me. Don’t take it personally; I’m sure if you were dating Jessica he’d be fine with you."

"And it has nothing to do with his crush on you?" he asked.

"Eric doesn’t have a crush on me," Peyton argued.

"Sure he doesn’t. Just like Jessica doesn’t have a crush on me. So, do you want to tell my grandmother or not? I know she wants us to come over for dinner tomorrow night."

"Sure, we can tell her. I just need a little more time before I tell my parents. I’ll have to see how things are looking on graduation day, maybe we can break the news then. That gives me a week to think about what I’m going to say. Are you okay with that?"

"No problem. We can tell them all at once."

***

At five-fifteen Sunday afternoon Peyton pulled her car into Evelyn Thurston’s driveway, parking it behind Brandon’s motorcycle. She felt nervous walking in all by herself, despite the fact that Brandon was already inside the house. Her stomach clenched, fearful of how his grandmother would react to the news of their engagement.

With a tentative and trembling hand, she knocked on the front door. It was opened a few seconds later by a grinning Brandon, dressed in khakis and a white linen shirt. Her breath caught in her throat; he always looked amazingly handsome when he decided to dress in something other than his trademark jeans and t-shirts. Just remembering the sight of him in his tuxedo on Prom night still made her heart skip a beat. "Hi," she said shyly.

Brandon pulled her into his arms and planted a kiss on her warm, soft lips. He hadn’t seen her since Friday night and his entire body responded to her closeness. All he could think about was pulling Peyton flush against him and letting her feel just how much he wanted her. Waiting until their wedding night to make love to her was going to drive him crazy.

"Wow, did you miss me or something?" she joked once he let her go.

"Can I help it if I want to kiss my fiancee? And yes, I missed you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all weekend long." He took her hand in his. "Come on, Grandma’s waiting in the dining room for us."

The couple made their way into the dining room, where Brandon’s grandmother sat at the head of the table. The older woman took one look at the smiling teenagers and knew they had something to share with her. "Peyton, how nice to see you again. I hope you had a nice birthday last week," she said.

Peyton nodded, walking to her side to give Brandon’s grandmother a hug. "I had a wonderful birthday, thank you for asking. And it was really nice of you to let Brandon and I have dinner here Friday night."

"It was no trouble. I hope you enjoyed it."

"He outdid himself."

Evelyn smiled slyly. "He’s got a rough exterior, but he’s a big, overgrown puppy dog when he wants to be," she commented.

Brandon cleared his throat. "Um, big overgrown puppy dog is standing right here. And please don’t say that stuff in public, I have a reputation to protect."

His fiancée rolled her blue eyes. "Oh please. Give me a break. We know what you’re really like. A fluffy puppy who is a true romantic at heart. Don’t try to deny it."

Glancing back and forth between the two of them, his grandmother could tell that whatever they were hiding, they wanted to share with her. "Okay, you two. What’s going on?"

"Should we tell her now or wait until after dinner?" Brandon asked Peyton.

"Let’s do it now."

"Do what now?"

Brandon held out Peyton’s left hand, which held his grandmother’s diamond ring. "Peyton and I are engaged. Friday night I asked her to marry me. And she actually said yes."

She nodded, seeing how truly happy the young couple looked. "So I gathered. I’m not surprised, though."

"Why not?"

"I may be an old woman, Brandon, but I’m not blind. The first time you brought Peyton over to meet me on my birthday, I could see how you felt about her." She turned to look at the young woman sanding to her grandson’s right. "Peyton, you must be an incredibly special young lady. No girl has ever held Brandon’s interest for more than a week or two at most. Three months is a new record for him. That’s why I’m not the least bit surprised he proposed to you. When I saw him pick up that ring, I knew he planned on asking you to be his wife.

"That’s not to say I’m not concerned. Three months may seem like a long time to the two of you, but it’s still a very short time. Marriage isn’t something you jump into without a lot of talking and getting to know one another. I don’t doubt you love each other, but I want you two to really think about what you’re getting yourselves into."

"We’re not getting married tomorrow, Grandma. We’re talking a year or two from now, at least that long. We already know we want to spend the rest of our lives with one another," Brandon explained.

She nodded. "I’m sure you do."

"Mrs. Thurston, I agree with you, three months is a short period of time," Peyton said. "But I spent almost two years with someone who turned into a person I despised. He was horrible to me; he hit me and verbally abused me. Your grandson showed me that I don’t deserve to be treated like that, that I can love and be loved unconditionally in return. I love Brandon, but too many people are against us. For once, I’d like someone on our side."

"I am. And I hope you two are very happy together. Congratulations on your engagement."

***

39

"I can’t believe you’re graduating from high school in a couple hours," Evelyn Thurston said to her grandson the morning of graduation. "I’m so proud of you."

He smirked. "Don’t you mean you can’t believe they’re actually *letting* me graduate?" he joked.

"Well, that’s beside the point. Seriously, though, Brandon, everyone’s really proud of you, even though they might not have said anything to you. We’ve all noticed a major turnaround in you recently, something I’m contributing to Petyon’s influence. You have grown up so much in the past few months."

"She’s the best thing in my life. Peyton changed me."

His grandmother nodded. "Apparently. This time last year none of us would have guessed you’d be engaged to be married. You always seemed like a lifelong bachelor."

"I would have been if Peyton hadn’t agreed to marry me. We’re telling everyone after the graduation ceremony today. Heads are going to roll, Grandma. I can feel it already."

"Don’t worry so much. Your mom and dad will probably be upset at first, but eventually they will get used to the idea of it. Especially once they take the time to get to know what sweet girl your Peyton is. When they see how much in love you two are, they’ll get over it and be happy for you," she told him.

"It’s not Mom and Dad I’m concerned about; I could care less what they think. Mr. and Mrs. Kendall, Peyton’s parents...they’re going to have a coronary. Her father despises me, he flat out refuses to let Peyton go out with me, and that was back in April! Her mom is pretty cool with us going out and helps her sneak out to see me or go out and stuff. But I don’t think she’s going to take the news of our engagement too well. Peyton’s afraid of what they’re going to say. Or do."

Evelyn put her arm around Brandon. "Maybe you two are overreacting. Her parents might surprise you and be okay with it."

"That would be nice. Unlikely, but nice."

***

Brandon found his fiancee in the crowd of seniors waiting in the gymnasium for the graduation ceremony to begin. She stood near Jessica, Eric and Eric’s new girlfriend Janelle Parsons. The four of them were talking and laughing about something, as if they were sharing an inside joke he wasn’t privy to. He still felt like an outside whenever he was around her friends, despite Peyton’s attempts to include him.

Her face lit up when she saw Brandon walking toward their group. He looked so handsome in his royal blue cap and gown. Excusing herself, she met him a few feet away from her friends. "Hey, you," she greeted. "The graduate look really works for you."

He snorted. "I’m just happy to be graduating. Are you up for a little public display of affection?" he wanted to know.

"Definitely. My dad isn’t around to beat you into a bloody pulp. I say we go for it," she said.

As he scooped her into his embrace, Eric looked on in disgust while Jessica forced herself to turn away. Seeing such intimacy between her best friend and Brandon still stung. "Okay, that is just disgusting in a public forum," Eric commented. "I don’t need to see them frenching in the middle of the gym."

Janelle laughed and shook her head at him. She knew he still had residual feelings for Peyton and understood how special his friend was to him. "I don’t know, I think it’s kinda cute. I still can’t get over the revelation that those two are dating. They’re so different, it’s like Peyton tamed the wild beast inside of him."

"There’s an image I didn’t need," Eric groaned. "Man, now I’m going to be imagining whips and chains whenever I see them."

"And Brandon Thurston handcuffed to the bed wearing nothing but that sexy smile of his," Janelle added. "Meow."

"Okay, that’s just gross!" exclaimed her boyfriend.

"Sorry, but that’s one image I’d like to take to the grave with me. I hope Peyton knows how lucky she is."

"She does," Jessica told Janelle. "Peyton knows exactly how lucky she is. And how much she means to Brandon." ‘If they only knew he proposed to her. Eric would go nuts and Janelle would bow at Peyton’s feet in worship.’

Brandon and Peyton were oblivious to the conversation going on only a couple feet away. They were too wrapped up in one another to also notice the stares their fellow classmates were giving them. "Are you sure you want to do this today?" Brandon asked her.

She played with the ring, which was dangling from a gold chain around her neck. "Yeah, I’m sure. If we don’t tell them tonight, I don’t think I’ll ever have the nerve to do it again. So we might as well. Are *you* ready?"

He nodded. "Ready, willing and able. And totally prepared to face the wrath of our fathers. I think our moms are gonna take it better than our dads will."

"Either way, at least two people are going to be pissed off. That much we can count on." Peyton sighed heavily. "I’m beginning to think we should just run off and get married, then tell them all afterward."

"If that’s what you want, your wish is my command."

"No, I want my parents to give their blessing. And I’m hoping they’ll be okay with our decision to get married. Maybe not today, but eventually they’ll come around," she said.

"All I’m hoping for tonight is your dad letting me live long enough to marry you," Brandon stated.

***

Sitting to Brandon’s left during the graduation ceremony, Jessica tried her best not to look in his direction. Seeing him making out with Peyton always hurt her. She wished she could just get over her feelings and move on, but Brandon Thurston wasn’t quite so easy to forget. If she inched her hand over three inches she’d be touching his leg, and she used all of her self-control to keep from doing so.

"Jessica?" he whispered, leaning his head closer to hers.

"What?" she asked.

"I know you know about me and Peyton, about me asking her to marry me."

Jessica groaned. "Are you trying to rub it in, make my life even more depressing than it already is? Well if so, congratulations on a job well done."

"That’s not what I intended to do. You’re Peyton’s best friend and I know how important your friendship is to her. So I don’t want you to get angry with her for accepting my proposal. I love her and I want to marry her, I hope you’re okay with that."

"I am. She and I discussed it and I am fine. But I am warning you, Brandon. If you hurt her, I will make your life a living hell," she hissed.

***

After the ceremony ended, Peyton and Brandon gathered their parents into an empty classroom to break the news of their engagement. The two sets of parents sat on opposite sides of the room as they waited impatiently for the couple to make their announcement.

"Brandon, what’s going on?" Mr. Thurston demanded. "We have dinner waiting for us at home. Not to mention the Sheffields are meeting us for drinks later."

"Well, Peyton and I asked you to come in here because we have an announcement to make," Brandon informed them. He squeezed his fiancee’s trembling hand. "Do you want to tell them or should I do it, Peyton?"

She glanced at the expectant looks on their parents’ faces. "I’ll do it. Okay." Peyton took a deep breath in preparation. "Brandon and I are getting married."

***

40

Dead silence filled the room in the moments immediately following Peyton’s announcement of hers and Brandon’s engagement. The couple glanced sideways at each other, unsure of what to make of the silence. They expected yelling, crying and death threats, but not...nothing. The silence was unnerving and frightening.

"Mom? Dad?" Peyton asked nervously, breaking the silence. "Did you hear what I said?"

Mr. Kendall stood up, his entire body shaking with anger, his face red and his eyes shooting daggers at the two teenagers. "Yes, I heard you. We *all* heard you. And I think all of us are in agreement when I say no way in hell! There is no way I will allow this marriage to happen."

"Charles, calm down," his wife pleaded, reaching her arm out to support him. "We should let them have their say."

"Well, I agree with Charles Kendall," Mr. Thurston stated. "As much as I hate to say it, he’s right."

Brandon stepped forward in the direction of Peyton’s parents. He suddenly felt so vulnerable leaving his fiancee’s side, as if she was his lifeline. "Mr. Kendall, Mrs. Kendall, I love your daughter. Very much. And I would like to marry her with your permission."

"No!" Peyton’s father exploded. "Over my dead body! You are never to touch my daughter; you aren’t good enough for her and you never will be. It’ll be a cold day in hell before I give you my blessing."

"Dad..." begged Peyton. "Please don’t do this. I love Brandon and he loves me. We really want you to be okay with this."

"I’m not."

Brandon’s father sat quietly while the Kendalls had their say, going on and on about how his son wasn’t good enough, and he was sick of their righteousness. "Is she knocked up?" the mayor demanded.

The entire room stopped talking the moment the words left his mouth. Brandon whipped his entire body around to face his father, unable to believe he had suggested such a thing. "How can you even say that?"

"I don’t hear you denying it," his father accused. He turned his attention to the stricken girl standing a few feet away from his son. "So, is this all some game you’re playing? Are you and your father doing this on purpose to ruin my political career? Getting yourself pregnant and claiming it’s Brandon’s, and then accusing my family of having corrupted morals? You brazen little bit–"

"If you *dare* finish that sentence, Richard Thurston, I will *personally* ruin your political career myself," threatened Mr. Kendall. "I have more power in this town than you realize. And if you so much as imply that my daughter is in any way a slut, I suggest you take a look at your own son. He isn’t exactly pure as the driven snow. His reputation is quite well-known."

While their fathers argued and continued to trade insults, the engaged couple made their way to each other. It was turning out to be exactly the way they expected it would turn out, but they imagined it would get worse before it got better. They looked at their mothers, who for the most part had been fairly quiet.

"Mom?" Peyton began. "What are you thinking?"

Mrs. Kendall sighed. "You lied to me, Peyton. I helped you see him and you knowingly lied to me. As you can imagine, I’m not very pleased with you at the moment."

Peyton wanted to cry. It was supposed to be one of the happiest days of her life and it was turning out to be one of the worst. "I didn’t lie to you, Mom, I swear I didn’t. Brandon proposed to me last Friday night and I said yes. But I never, ever lied to you."

"You purposely withheld the truth from me. I told you to be honest with me and you weren’t," her mother argued. "But for you to keep this from me after I went out of my way to help you see that young man...I’m ashamed and embarrassed. How can I ever trust you again?"

Mr. Kendall spun around when he heard his wife’s comment. "Mary Beth, you knew they were still seeing each other? You even helped them? How could you go behind my back like that?! I thought I made it quite clear Peyton wasn’t allowed to see him!"

"I did what I thought was right at the time," she informed him. "Turns out I was mistaken. My daughter’s happiness comes first, at least it did until she decided to stop being honest with me."

Brandon’s father laughed. "Can’t control your wife and your daughter can’t keep her legs together? What a man you are."

The dam burst and tears fell like rain down Peyton’s cheeks. Brandon held her tightly, comforting her with words of love and promises that his father didn’t mean the horrible things he said about her. Mr. Kendall approached the other man, insulted by his words. "I warned you not to say anything against my daughter; I don’t care if you insult me and insinuate things about me, but my daughter’s character stays out of these personal attacks. Peyton is a good girl, much too good for the likes of your gigolo son, who is well known for not being able to keep his dick in his pants."

The teenage boy could no longer take the arguing and name calling being done by their fathers. "Stop it, all of you! Sit down, shut up and listen to me without interruption for five minutes," he firmly requested. He waited until both sets of parents were seated before continuing. Peyton was still crying in his arms, the tears subsiding and the sniffles dissipating. He hated knowing that his father made his love cry. "Look, I’m only gonna say this once, so you better listen. Peyton and I love each other. We want to get married, we want to spend the rest of our lives together. Both of us are over eighteen and old enough to decide what we want and who we want to be with. And let me clarify something for everyone so there’s no misunderstanding. We are not getting married because Peyton’s pregnant. She’s not, there is no way possible for me to have gotten her pregnant.

"She is not a tramp or a slut, Dad. Peyton isn’t like the other girls I’ve dated or slept with. I trust her and respect her, and she trusts and respects me in return. We’ve decided to wait until our wedding night before we consummate our relationship, not that it’s any concern of yours to begin with. I know that’s a hard pill for you to swallow, Mr. Kendall, but it’s the God’s honest truth. My past has nothing to do with my feelings for Peyton or our decision to get married. I won’t deny I’ve treated the other girls I was with rather shabbily. I only wanted one thing from those girls – instant gratification. Not with Peyton, I don’t want more from her than she’s comfortable giving me. You have my word that I’ll never hurt her, never break her heart and never make her unhappy. Believe me when I say I want to share my life with her. I knew it the moment I saw her."

"Are you done?" Mr. Kendall wanted to know.

Brandon nodded. "Yes."

Peyton lifted her head from his chest. "I’d like to say something, Dad. I want to be with Brandon. Do you remember when I told you a couple months ago I wanted to find a man just like you and marry him?" Her father nodded, recalling the conversation. "Well, I found him in Brandon. You may not believe it, or maybe you don’t want to, but he is just like you. He only wants what’s best for me and he treats me the way Nick never did. Brandon never hit me or raised his voice to me in anger. And when we were in that motorcycle accident, he spent weeks apologizing to me. How many eighteen-year-olds are going to give the girl they love their own private Prom? None that I know of aside from him. I’m asking you and Mom to give him a chance. Please."

"Mom, Dad, the same goes for you," Brandon told his parents.

"I’m not guaranteeing anything right now," Mr. Kendall said.

"This is all a big shock to me," Judith Thurston finally spoke up. She had remained quiet throughout the entire announcement and its aftermath. "I had no idea you were seeing anyone, Brandon, much less seriously enough to propose marriage. And I don’t know Peyton well enough to have an opinion of her, though I’m willing to take the time to get to know her. One thing I am concerned about, however, is your age. The two of you are only eighteen."

"We’re not getting married right away. Peyton and I haven’t set a date, but it won’t be for another year or two."

"And you plan to say celibate for that long?" muttered Mr. Kendall. "I might die from shock."

The teenage girl couldn’t believe her father had the nerve to say such a thing. "Shut up, Daddy! That’s my fiancé you’re talking about. I trust him. And if I decide to sleep with him before our wedding, it’ll be *my* decision. Now either be happy for us or don’t say a word, because I will not spend the rest of my life listening to your rude remarks about the man I love."

"Fine. I guess I won’t say anything at all."

***

41

"Where do you think you’re going?" Mr. Kendall asked his daughter that night when she came out of her bedroom carrying her backpack, pillow and sleeping bag.

"To the Senior Campout, remember? I told you and Mom about it last month, the entire senior class is pitching tents and sleeping in the woods tonight. It’s an annual tradition on graduation night," Peyton informed him. "Are you saying I can’t go now?"

Her father sighed. Ever since they’d gotten back from the graduation ceremony three hours earlier, his daughter had been locked in her room, refusing to come out when he or her mother called. He wished things could go back to the way they were right after she broke up with Nick, back when she was happy and carefree. And not hating him. "I didn’t say that, Peyton. You’re putting words in my mouth."

"So I can still go?"

"Who’s going to be there?" he questioned.

"I know what you’re really asking me, Dad. You want to know if Brandon’s going to be there. And the answer is yes. As I said before, the entire senior class is going. That includes Brandon."

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for battle with Peyton. It seemed as soon as she started dating Brandon Thurston, his relationship with his daughter went to Hell in a handbag. "I do *not* want you sharing a tent with that boy. Is that understood?"

Dropping her belongings on the carpeted floor, Peyton put her hands on her hips. "Didn’t you hear anything Brandon and I said this afternoon? I’m not going to sleep with him. If Brandon and I do decide to sleep in the same tent, which I’m not sure we’ll be doing yet, chances are nothing will be happening. He’s my fiancé, Dad, and you may not trust him, but could you at least give me the benefit of the doubt? Can’t you have a little faith in me?"

"I’m only looking out for your best interests. Honey, I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. You’re still very young and you have your whole life ahead of you, I’d hate for you to be tied down when you have the whole world at your feet. Marriage and kids at your age is going to be tough sledding, no matter how much you love your spouse. There are things you two need to give some thought to."

"Brandon and I haven’t talked about children yet. I know I’m still young and I’m not ready to have kids. We’re talking years from now."

"Well, thank god for that."

"Be nice. Despite what you may think of him, Brandon is a terrific guy and I’m lucky to have him. He treats me like a princess, unlike Nick. About six months ago I used to think he was nothing but a trouble-making hoodlum, a motorcycle-riding bad boy. But then I started talking to him online and started hanging out with him and I discovered I was wrong. Dead wrong. He loves me and only wants the best for me; he’s more like you than I think you realize or want to realize. I want you to get to know him; I don’t expect you and Brandon to become best friends, but at least be civil to him, respect the fact that I love him. Can you handle that?"

"I don’t like him. He’s not right for you," her father remarked.

Peyton rolled her eyes. "That’s bull, Dad, and you know it. It’s not that you don’t like Brandon, your problem is that you don’t like his father. There is a big difference between him and his father, and you can find that out for yourself when he comes over for dinner this week. Got it?"

"Fine."

Mr. Kendall helped carry his daughter’s belongings down to the front hallway while his daughter returned to her room to grab a few more things she needed for her overnight stay. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, the doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of Peyton’s ride. When her father opened the door, his blue eyes narrowed upon seeing Brandon standing on the other side.

Brandon swallowed hard. Mr. Kendall didn’t look pleased to see him at all. "Good evening, Mr. Kendall. Is Peyton ready?" he asked.

"Yeah, she’ll be downstairs in a minute." He stepped out of the way and allowed his daughter’s fiancé to enter the house. "I understand you’ll be joining us for dinner sometime this week."

"Yes, sir. And I’ve invited Peyton to dinner with my family on Wednesday. I know I said this earlier, but I want to reassure you of how much I love her. I would die before I hurt her."

"We’ll see. She’ll be down in another second. Before she comes back, though, I’m going to make something very clear to you, Brandon. If you touch my daughter or force her to do something she doesn’t want to do, I’ll have you killed. Do I make myself clear?"

The teenager nodded his head. "You have my word I’ll behave like a perfect gentleman." Normally parents and their idle threats didn’t scare him, but Brandon found himself afraid of Mr. Kendall. The man was going to be his father-in-law and he wanted to stay on his good side.

Peyton bounded down the steps, her face breaking into a grin when she saw Brandon standing in the hallway with her father. "Brandon! What are you doing here? I thought Jessica was picking me up," she said.

"What, you’re not happy to see me?" he teased.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him softly on the lips. With her father watching them like a hawk, she didn’t dare deepen it. "Of course I’m happy to see you. I just didn’t expect you to be here, I thought we were meeting at the campground."

"I thought it would be nice to make our entrance together. And we can pick a nice, quiet spot for our tent," he told her.

Behind them Mr. Kendall cleared his throat, hoping to remind the couple of his presence. "Will there be chaperones at this campout?"

"Dad!" Peyton hissed. "We’re eighteen, and you and I already had this discussion. Goodbye and see you in the morning."

***

"Okay, your dad definitely wasn’t happy about me being here with you tonight," commented Brandon when he and Peyton settled into their tent for the night. He had his back to his fiancee while she changed into her pajamas.

"He’ll get over it," she said, pulling her tank top over her head and slipping on her oversized t-shirt. "You can turn around now."

He did as he was told, stunned to see Peyton sitting on her sleeping bag wearing nothing but a white t-shirt. ‘Keep it together, Brandon. Don’t start acting like some kid going through puberty. It’s just Peyton in that t-shirt. You’ve already seen her in only a bra and shorts, she’s wearing more this time. Nothing to get excited about.’ His mind kept saying that but the lower half of his body wasn’t listening. "You’re wearing that to bed?"

Peyton looked down at her t-shirt and nodded. "Yeah, I always wear this. Why?"

"No reason. Anyway, I get the feeling your father thinks I won’t be able to keep my hormones in check if I sleep in this tent with you tonight." ‘I’m beginning to think he’s right to be feeling that way.’

"And what do you think?"

"Seeing you in that t-shirt, I’m beginning to think he’s right. It’s going to be very hard with you sleeping next to me tonight," he admitted.

"Do you want me to change into something else?"

He shook his head. "No, I’ll be fine. I just have to continually remind myself to keep my hands off of you."

"Who said you couldn’t touch me?" she wanted to know. "Because I personally can’t wait for you to put your hands on me. We’re all alone in this tent, it would be a shame to waste this opportunity."

Their lips met in a gentle kiss that turned passionate in almost no time. While Peyton tugged his t-shirt off, he lowered them to the ground, careful not to crush his love with his weight. She instinctively bent her knees to cradle his hips, feeling the evidence of his arousal pressed against her thigh. It blew her mind to know she had that kind of effect on any man, much less him.

Her nails dug into his back as his lips traveled to her neck, nibbling and sucking on the tender flesh. Peyton closed her eyes and moaned while her body temperature rose dangerously high. Her entire body felt like it was on fire with want. Never in her eighteen years had she felt that way. Brandon was making her feel new things with every touch, every kiss and every murmur of love.

Brandon winced from the slight pain Peyton’s nails were inflicting on his back. But he gladly would have allowed her to set his entire body on fire if he could have one look at her exquisite flesh under the shirt she wore. No girl he’d ever been with had brought forth the love and lust he felt for Peyton. Feeling brave, he slid his right hand to her thigh and underneath the hem of her shirt. It glided over the creamy skin, stopping when he reached her bare breast.

"Brandon..." she mumbled breathlessly, clasping her long legs tightly around his waist, desperate to feel every inch of him against her. The way he was kneading her breast in his hand so expertly was slowly driving her to the brink of insanity.

"Should I stop?" he wanted to know, lifting his head to look her in the eyes.

She tossed her head from left to right. "No, don’t stop. I want you to keep doing it. Take me, Brandon; make me yours right now," Peyton begged.

He struggled internally upon hearing her plea. As tempting as her offer was, Brandon couldn’t bring himself to take her up on it. It wasn’t the right time or place for them. "Not tonight, Peyton. I have to prove to you I want more than just sex from you. We have all the time in the world to make love. Tonight doesn’t have to be the night."

"You don’t want to?"

He placed a kiss on her lips, rolling off of her. He didn’t want her to think he was rejecting her. "No, I want to. I’ve wanted to since the moment I first saw you standing by your locker that day. But I think I want to wait until we’re married, just like you do. That was the lust talking before, trust me. If we slept together tonight, you’d only regret it and hate me for taking advantage. And I’m not about to let that happen."

Peyton wanted to argue with Brandon, but couldn’t find it within herself to do so. He was right, she would regret it. "Will you hold me until I fall asleep?" she asked him.

He pulled her into his arms, resting her head on his bare chest. "I’ll hold you all night. And every night I spend with you," he promised.

***

42

"Why are you so nervous?" Brandon asked Peyton early Wednesday evening as they walked up the front steps to his family home. "It’s just dinner with my family."

Peyton shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe because of Friday afternoon when we told your parents we’re engaged. Your dad practically called me a cheap tramp. And you mom gave me that look that screams ‘You’re stealing my son, you little bitch!’. I wasn’t exactly feeling the love in the room."

"I don’t want you to worry about it. Mom and Dad promised to be on their best behavior. Besides, my grandmother loves you and the rest of my family will love you, too, once they get to know you. Personally, I think they were in shock and that’s the reason my dad went off on us Friday. Just relax and be yourself, everyone will love you."

She smiled at his comforting words. "I know. Let’s go face the music."

The two entered the house, everyone in the family room looking up when they walked in. Peyton could feel the stares as they made their way into the room, each person sizing her up and searching for any visible faults. She felt like cattle being put up for sale and she desperately wanted to run out of the house; they all hated her, she knew it.

"You all remember Peyton Kendall," Brandon announced. "We’ve got some good news. We’re getting married."

Mr. and Mrs. Thurston barely blinked, already aware of their son’s engagement. Brandon’s siblings, however, sat in stunned silence at the announcement. Katie’s brown eyes turned almost black, Richard and Rebecca exchanged confused glances and Alex grinned, winking at his younger brother, approving of his choice.

"When the hell did this happen?" Katie demanded. It was beyond her realm of comprehension that her brother was getting married to Peyton Kendall, the one girl she couldn’t stand to be in the same room with. Now she was going to be her sister-in-law.

"A week-and-a-half ago," Brandon informed his older sister. "A few days after her birthday."

His oldest brother Richard looked Peyton up and down. The brown-haired girl definitely wasn’t the type of girl he pictured Brandon with. This girl was small and looked somewhat intelligent, a big improvement over the other girls he’d seen him with. Most of Brandon’s dates were either slutty-looking or looked as though they couldn’t add two plus two. But this young lady could probably keep his brother in line for a long time to come.

"Way to go, Bran," commented Alex. "Never thought I’d live to see the day when you’d settle down with one girl, especially with all the hotties chasing after you." He gave Peyton an apologetic look. "Not that you’re not a hottie, Peyton. It’s just that you’re not what any of us expected."

"Should I take that as a compliment or as an insult?" she joked.

"Definitely a compliment," Rebecca answered for her brother-in-law. She patted the empty seat next to her on the couch for Peyton to sit down.

Peyton glanced at Brandon, smiling. Maybe it wasn’t going to be as bad as she originally thought. "Thank you," she said to Rebecca when she sat down.

***

"So, tell us how Brandon proposed to you," Richard requested of Peyton. "I think I speak for all of us when I say I’m dying to find out how he popped the question."

The eight people sat around the dining room table, enjoying a roasted turkey breast with stuffing, mashed potatoes, green beans and fresh rolls from the bakery in the center of town. Peyton couldn’t believe how good everything tasted, and could only imagine what Thanksgiving dinner must be like. She took a sip of water before answering Richard’s question.

"It was really romantic," she began. "Brandon made me dinner at his grandmother’s house for my eighteenth birthday. Then we were sitting in the living room talking, he was telling me how much he loves me and that he wants to spend the rest of his life with me. It was so cute when he showed me the ring and he was fumbling all over his words. I felt so bad about making him so tongue-tied that I said yes before he even asked the question! But he did, got down on one knee and asked me to marry him."

"Where did you get the money to buy her an engagement ring, Brandon?" Alex wanted to know. "What kind of an allowance are Mom and Dad giving you?"

Brandon laughed. "I wish it were enough to buy an engagement ring.. No, Grandma gave me her engagement ring to give to Peyton. The one Grandpa first proposed with."

Katie’s fork slipped from her hand and onto the plate below. Everyone looked up from their meal to stare at her as her face became bright red with anger. "You gave her Grandma’s engagement ring? How could you do that?" she accused. "Grams knew I wanted that ring!"

"I’m sorry, Katie," Peyton apologized. "I had no idea."

"Yeah, whatever. You are probably thrilled to get that ring because you managed to land a rich, handsome sucker who is stupid enough to believe you actually reciprocate his feelings. We all know what you’re after, Peyton – a free ride. I’d say you were after a good lay, too, but we all know you’re too pure for that."

Peyton sat in silence, shocked at Katie’s outburst. Granted, she knew they’d never be best friends, but she didn’t realize how much her future sister-in-law hated her. "I love your brother, Katie. I’m not after a free ride."

Next to her, Brandon squeezed her thigh gently. "You don’t have to defend yourself to her, Peyton. Katie’s just mad because Grandma gave me the ring she’s been eyeballing for years. Isn’t that right?" he asked his older sister.

"Shut the fuck up."

"That’s enough, both of you!" an enraged Mr. Thurston ordered. "I’d like to enjoy my dinner without listening to the two of you argue. And stop with the use of obscenities at the dinner table, Katie."

Brandon shook his head while Katie cast her eyes to the plate in front of her. Getting yelled at during dinner was nothing new for the siblings, but it rarely happened when they had guests. "Sorry, Dad," Brandon apologized.

Mr. Thurston lifted an eyebrow at his son’s seemingly honest apology. Brandon never apologized for anything; he chalked it up to Peyton’s presence at the table and him wanting to impress her. "Just don’t let it happen again."

"Have you two set a date yet?" Richard questioned them. His brother’s engagement intrigued him.

"No specific date set in stone, but Peyton and I are thinking it might happen in another year or so. We’re going to wait until we save up enough money to pay for things ourselves."

"Isn’t it the bride’s family’s responsibility to pay for the wedding?" Alex asked.

Peyton nodded her head. "Traditionally, yeah. But my parents, particularly my dad, aren’t taking the news too well. Brandon and I want to pay for as much of the wedding as we can. And we’ve already decided on a small ceremony with just family and close friends. We *don’t* want some big to-do."

"Well, that simply won’t do," Brandon’s father stated. "There are people who must be invited. The governor, Alice and Edward Knight, the Pearsons–"

"No!" Brandon exclaimed. "Our wedding is going to be small and private, not like Rich and Becky’s wedding. Peyton and I aren’t turning it into a political bash, Dad. The two of us are making the final decisions on the guest list, not you."

"You don’t understand..."

"Oh, I understand completely. Use another family event to drum up your popular vote. My wedding day to Peyton is going to be sacred."

Sensing an out-and-out fight brewing between father and son, Richard decided to change the subject. "So, Peyton, have you decided what you’re going to be studying in college?"

She let out the breath she’d been holding during Brandon and Mr. Thurston’s argument. In doing so, she felt her fiance’s hand slide higher up her thigh. One more inch and he’d be reaching dangerous territory. "I love children and I always wanted to do something that involves children. Lately I’ve been giving serious thought to going into Pediatrics."

"A doctor, huh? Pretty cool," Alex remarked. ‘How did Brandon luck out with her? Brains and beauty, lucky bastard.’

"I’m still in the thinking it over stage."

"Takes a lot of smarts to get into medical school," Mr. Thurston said. "A lot of studying. Think you can handle it?"

Again, she nodded. "I got straight As in high school, graduated top five of our class. And I’m really good in science. So to answer your question, yeah, I think I could handle it."

To her right, Brandon inwardly cheered. She’d handled her father with ease and grace. Peyton was going to make it as a member of the Thurston family. Everything was going to work out just fine.

***

43

"You look really pretty. Where are you and Brandon going tonight?" Mrs. Kendall questioned her daughter a month-and-a-half later in early August. She entered her daughter’s bedroom and saw her wearing a turquoise dress. The hem skimmed the floor, held up by two spaghetti straps over her shoulders. On her feet she wore a pair of silver high-heeled sandals and pulled her long brown hair into a loose bun with curly tendrils framing her face.

She smiled at her mother’s compliment. "Thank you. And we’re going to some charity event his father’s hosting at the Harbour Club. I think it’s for the battered women’s shelter."

"Something very close to your heart." Peyton had done volunteer work there as part of her community service project for National Honor Society several years earlier.

"Yeah. Scary to think I might have been one of those women there if I hadn’t smartened up and dumped Nick’s sorry ass. Now I’ve gotten myself a great guy who treats me like a princess and takes me to fundraisers like this," she said. "Talk about moving on up."

"Well, I’m glad you found him. Brandon treats you the way you should be treated. Just between you and me, I think your dad is softening toward him. He was almost nice to him the other day when Brandon had dinner with us," her mother noted.

She nodded. "Yeah, I noticed that, too. Maybe Dad’s finally realizing Brandon is an important part of my life. We’ll see how things go as the wedding approaches."

"Have you two started making any plans yet?"

"Just little things here and there. Jessica wants me to go dress shopping this weekend. I don’t want to buy my wedding dress, though, until a couple months before the wedding itself. But Brandon and I haven’t made any major decisions. We’ve got plenty of time still."

"Don’t procrastinate too much. It’ll be around the corner before either of you know it."

Peyton bit her bottom lip, nodding her head in understanding. "I know, I know. A year-and-a-half seems so far away. We are thinking of having the ceremony in December of next year. You know, have a winter wedding. How does that sound?" she wanted to know.

"It’s your decision, honey. All I want is for you to be happy. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to see you wait until the two of you are a little older, but whatever makes you happy."

Peyton was about to respond when the doorbell rang, announcing her fiance’s arrival. Taking another quick look in the mirror, she made her way down the stairs to open the door for Brandon. He stood holding a single red rose and grinned when he saw Peyton in her dress. She absolutely took his breath away. "H-Hi," he stammered, taken aback by how beautiful his fiancee looked.

"Hi to you, too. You look great," she complimented. He wore a black suit and dark blue tie.

"And you look beautiful." He handed her the rose. "This is for you."

She took it from him, inhaling the sweet scent of the flower. "Thank you so much." Turning around, she passed the flower to her mother for her to hold.

"Good evening, Brandon," Mrs. Kendall greeted, giving him a sincere smile. "It’s nice to see you again. You’re looking very dapper tonight."

"Thank you, Mrs. Kendall. I hate these things, I hate getting dressed up in suits and ties just to impress a bunch of people I don’t know," he complained.

"Then why do you go to them?"

Brandon rolled his eyes in response. "Necessary evil. One of the joys of being the Mayor’s son. Especially in an election year." He glanced down at his watch. "Peyton, we should get going. Dad wants us to be there by seven."

She grabbed her purse before giving her mother a quick kiss on the cheek. "Don’t wait up, Mom. I’m not sure what time I’ll be home."

"Just have fun and be careful."

"Will do." She turned to her fiancé. "All right. Let’s go."

***

"Having fun yet?" Brandon whispered in Peyton’s ear several hours later. "Or are you bored out of your mind?"

She laughed. They’d been there for three hours, schmoozing with Mr. Thurston’s political allies and wealthy members of the town of Smithfield. Peyton felt out-classed by all the women wearing diamonds and pearls, but tried not to let it bother her. "Well, it’s definitely interesting."

"You hate it."

"It’s not that, it’s just...I know I don’t belong here. These people are affluent, classy, rich. I’m *so* not in their league. I feel like an outsider. Some of the women here are giving me weird looks, like they know I’m some kind of wannabe."

"They are the ones who are out of their league, not you, and they’re simply jealous of you. Every woman in this room wishes she looked half as beautiful as you do tonight. I’m sorry you’re not having a good time, Peyton. We can leave if that’s what you want."

Peyton shook her head. "No, I’ll be fine. Just don’t leave me alone with any of these women; I feel like a guppy in a shark tank."

Brandon chuckled at her analogy. It was more or less accurate. "I have an idea. Why don’t you and I go find a quiet room where we can be alone," he suggested.

She knew exactly what her fiancé was implying, and she had no objections to it. "Sounds like a plan. Lead the way."

He took her left hand in his, prepared to lead them out the main doors when he heard his father’s voice over the speaker system asking everyone for their attention. Brandon stopped and turned to see Mr. Thurston standing on the makeshift stage behind the microphone. Rolling his brown eyes, the teenager prepared himself for his father’s inevitable political statement and pat on the back for a job well done.

"First of all, I want to thank all of you for coming tonight. So far we’ve raised more than forty thousand dollars for the Annie Cieslak Battered Women’s Shelter tonight, thanks in large part to your generous donations. It’s our most successful fundraiser to date, and the evening is only half over! The shelter plans to use your donations to purchase clothing, activities for the children, bedding and outings for the residents. I’d like all of you to give yourselves a round of applause."

After the clapping subsided, Mr. Thurston grinned at the people staring up at him. "And on a more personal note, I would like to share some rather good news with you tonight. I’m happy to announce that on June fifteenth, my youngest child Brandon proposed to his girlfriend, Miss Peyton Kendall. She, of course, accepted."

Brandon squeezed Peyton’s hand tightly, trying to keep his anger in check. His father had a lot of nerve, making their engagement announcement without conferring with the two of them first. "Son of a bitch," he swore under his breath. "I can’t believe he’s doing this."

"The Thurston family is overjoyed with this wonderful news and we are all thrilled to have Peyton join our family. Brandon, Peyton, please join me on the stage as we all wish you congratulations," Mr. Thurston concluded.

Clenching his jaw, Brandon held his tight grip on Peyton’s hand. His fiancee could practically feel the anger radiating through the skin. With her free hand, she rubbed his right one soothingly, hoping to calm him down. "It’s okay," she said.

"He’s a dead man. I’m going to fucking kill him," he threatened as they made their way to the stage.

"Stay calm, Brandon. Don’t make a scene in front of all these people."

‘Time to put on a happy face,’ Brandon thought. Forcing a smile on his lips, he led Peyton onto the stage, standing to the right of his father. Seeing the plastic smiles and forced claps of his father’s constituents, he wanted to murder his father right then and there. Most of all, he hated subjecting Peyton to this.

***

While his fiancee was in the bathroom, Brandon stood in the corner of the room, happy to be alone for a few minutes. Ever since his father made the announcement, he and Peyton had been bombarded with well-wishers and people neither of them knew congratulating them. All he wanted to do was change into a pair of jeans and curl up on the couch with Peyton in his arms.

"So I hear congratulations are in order," a familiar voice drawled from a few feet away. "Never pegged you for the marrying kind, though."

He looked up, groaning when he saw Rachael Warren standing in front of him. His former lover stood with a smirk playing upon her lips, wearing a low-cut black dress that left very little to the imagination. He no longer found her the least bit attractive. "Hello, Rachael," he greeted, not trying too hard to keep the unhappiness out of his voice.

"You don’t sound happy to see me."

"How observant."

She slithered closer to him. "You haven’t called in a while to hook up. I was beginning to worry you’d forgotten my phone number."

"I haven’t needed to hook up with you. I have Peyton now, I love her," stated Brandon. "So you can just forget my number because I’ve forgotten yours, Rachael."

"You’re not a one-woman guy."

"I am now."

She scoffed, tossing her red hair over her shoulder. "That little girl cannot *possibly* keep you interested for more than a couple months, much less the rest of your life. Does she know what kind of guy you really are? What you like and don’t like? What makes you growl underneath the sheets?"

Brandon closed the gap between them. "Stay away from my fiancee, Rachael. I mean it. Go near Peyton and I’ll make sure you live to regret it."

***

44

"What is this place?" Peyton asked when Brandon led them into the dark room, closing the door behind them. She’d never been to the Harbour Club before and didn’t know where her fiancé had taken her.

"It’s a storage room," he told her.

She chuckled as he turned on the light. "You sound like you know that from experience," she teased. "Have you done this before, sneak some poor, unsuspecting girl in here for a few minutes of fun?"

"Once or twice," he answered honestly.

"So I’m just another girl in your long line of storage room conquests?"

Brandon picked her up, placing her in a sitting position on a cardboard box so their faces were level. "I promise you, Peyton, you’ll be the last girl I ever bring in here."

"Did you bring me in here to take advantage of me?"

"That was the original plan, yes. But then my ignorant fuck of a father decided to take it upon himself to tell the world we’re engaged. Now all I want to do is get away from him before I end up wringing his egotistical neck," Brandon stated.

Peyton looked at him curiously. "You weren’t ready to tell everyone we’re getting married? Back in June you couldn’t wait." ‘Don’t tell me he’s having second thoughts about marrying me. I don’t know if I could handle his rejection.’

"No, I wanted to tell everyone, but I wanted *us* to do it, not my dad. He only made the announcement to better the public opinion of himself." He sighed heavily. "The man’s probably grinning just thinking about the headlines – MAYOR’S SCREW-UP SON ENGAGED TO BE MARRIED TO NEWSPAPER EDITOR’S DAUGHTER. I can see his approval rating shoot through the roof when the public gets word of it."

She put her arms around his neck, drawing her fiancé closer to her. "Brandon, you know what your dad is like. Just don’t let it bother you. Ignore him." She touched her forehead to his, rubbing the back of his neck with her fingers.

"I’m so aggravated!"

"Would a kiss calm you down any?" she wanted to know.

"It couldn’t hurt," he replied, his first genuine smile in the past hour.

He planted his hands on Peyton’s hips while their lips found each other. His fiancée immediately parted her lips to make room for Brandon’s tongue to slip inside, the kiss growing in intensity with each passing second. She moaned in his mouth when she felt his right hand wander upwards to cup her breast. It excited her knowing they could be caught at any moment, groping in an unlocked storage room.

Brandon, however, couldn’t have cared less if someone walked in on them. All he wanted to do was hold Peyton in his arms, kiss her and touch her. He needed to be with her in any capacity she’d allow him. She was his lifeline, his only reason for being. Without Peyton in his life, he doubted he’d be able to go on.

"Mmm..." Peyton hummed when he moved away from her mouth, leaving open-mouth kisses along her jawline before finding his way to her slim neck. He suckled on the tender skin, careful not to leave any noticeable marks there. Unable to resist the temptation, Brandon inched his hand up from her breast, sliding the strap of her dress down her bare arm, his left hand mimicking the action. He half-expected her to tell him to stop but he never heard the words. They were about to enter new territory for them, and he hoped she wouldn’t slap him for being so bold as to attempt what he was about to attempt.

The straps to her dress lay limply across her upper arms, so he pushed them down until the bodice of her dress fell down from lack of support, crumpling at her waist. Peyton sat before him with the upper half of her body exposed to his view except for the strapless white lace bra adorning her breasts. She awaited his next move, biting her lips in fevered anticipation and her hands at her side, slipping the straps off. The way he was looking at her, with such love and pure animal hunger, set her entire body on fire with desire for him. Peyton gripped his shoulders with her hands, tossing her head back and closing her eyes.

Brandon peppered kisses along her collarbone, his fiancee running her fingers through his dark hair and breathing heavily from his ministrations. His lips delved lower, tracing her bra with tiny nips. When he brought them to her lace-covered nipple, he felt himself harden instantly, his body throbbing with want. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to lift her up, slam her against the wall of the small room and thrust himself into her hot, inviting body.

"Brandon?" Peyton whispered, completely out of breath. He’d switched to her other breast, fondling her neglected one, rolling her pebbled nipple between his fingers. She hated that he could do these things to her when she couldn’t do the same to him. She didn’t feel comfortable enough to even try it.

"Hmm?" he questioned, not turning his attention away from her body.

"We...we should stop. People are going to wonder what happened to us," she told him.

Brandon moved his head upward again, kissing a line from the valley between her breasts back up her neck to her lips. "I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I just want to be with you right now."

"Brandon, please," begged Peyton. "If we don’t stop now, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop in a couple minutes."

Reluctantly, he backed away from her, watching with disappointment as his fiancée pulled her dress back up to cover her breasts. "I’m sorry for getting so carried away. I just needed to be with you."

"I know. And it’s okay." He scooped her into his arms, placing her back on the ground. Her knees were so weak she could barely stand on her own two feet. Glancing down at him, she blushed furiously. "Do you need to use the bathroom before going back in there?"

Seeing what Peyton was looking at, Brandon felt embarrassed. ‘Oh god,’ he thought. ‘Not now, not in front of her.’ "Yeah, I guess I do. I can’t walk in there looking like this."

"I’ll go inside and wait for you while you’re in the bathroom doing whatever it is you need to do. Then we can say our goodbyes and maybe go get something to eat. I’m starving."

"Sounds good."

When Brandon headed for the bathroom, Peyton entered the crowded room, looking desperately for someone she recognized. Catching sight of Brandon’s grandmother across the room, she started off in her direction. She hadn’t walked five feet when a redheaded girl about her age stopped directly in front of her, blocking her way.

"You’re Peyton," the girl said.

Lifting her eyebrows, Peyton gave her the once-over. She wore a skin-tight black dress that clung to every one of her voluptuous curves. Peyton found herself jealous, wishing her body looked that good. "Yes, I’m Peyton. Have we met before?"

"No, but we share something in common. Your fiancé."

"Oh, you know Brandon?"

"You could say that we know each other very well. My name is Rachael Warren. Perhaps he’s mentioned me," she introduced herself with a smirk.

Peyton shook her head. "Nope, can’t say that he has." Just from the look in Rachael’s green eyes and the way she said Brandon’s name, she took an immediate dislike to the girl.

"Well, I just wanted to come over and congratulate you on a job well done. You landed the catch of the century in Brandon Thurston. He’s just...amazing." She laughed. "I must say, you’re looking a bit flushed. You two didn’t just have a quickie in the storage room, did you? That boy needs to learn some new tricks. He and I did that last year."

"Is there a point to this conversation, or are you trying to rub your past with him in my face?"

"Just wanted to give you a word of warning. As someone who’s spent a lot of alone time with him – in various different places, if you catch my drift – I can say he’s always been more of a taker than a giver. But I’m sure I don’t have to tell you about that."

She did catch Rachael’s drift. Subtlety wasn’t her strong suit. "Actually, truth be told, Brandon and I haven’t spent a lot of alone time together. We’re waiting until our wedding night to consummate our relationship, it’ll make it all the more special. But so far, he’s proven himself to be quite the giver. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have people I need to say goodbye to before Brandon and I leave."

‘Bitch,’ Peyton said to herself as she headed for Brandon’s grandmother’s table.

***

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