She was dancing by herself. God, he loved her abandon. She just didn't give a fuck about anyone around her. She swayed her hips to the beat, her eyes closed against the world. Her halo of golden curls gently brushed around her, as she carried a smile on her full, pink lips. She wore an electric blue tank top that bared her midriff and hugged her in all the right places. She wore a short, black skirt and those strappy little high heels that girls wear.

She was 21 now. High school had to be nothing more than a distant memory. He kept track of her. She had just gotten out of a long term relationship and had come home for the summer from an Art School in New York. She was living her dream, he supposed. He hoped.

The music came to an end and Peyton slowly stopped, opening her eyes and coming back to reality. She smiled to herself and grabbed a bottled water from the bar.

"Thanks, Jerry," She smiled at the bartender before grabbing her purse from behind the bar.

Working at Tantra had its perks. Bartending each summer was easy, the tips were awesome. The scene was kick ass and she could dance herself dizzy before she left. Peyton took a sip of her bottled water and pushed her way through the growing crowd of Tree Hill-ites.

"Excuse me," She said rather loudly, pushing her way through.

"Excuse yourself," was whispered into her ear right as she was about to walk out the door. She turned suddenly.

There he was...Lucas Scott mere inches away from her.

She blinked, wide-eyed.

For the first time in years, Peyton's mind went completely blank. He stood there, a cool smile as he looked into her eyes. Her heart was racing. My God...

"Lucas..." Her tone was soft and innocent as her bottle limply fell from her grasp. She looked down slowly as water poured onto the floor. She looked back at Lucas, her expression quickly changing. She slapped him suddenly.

"You son of a bitch." She turned and walked out of the club.

Lucas stood there, holding his face for a few seconds before chasing out after her.

"Peyton! Peyton!" He called.

He caught sight of her blond hair turning down a small alley in a short cut to get to the parking lot down the block. He ran, catching her arm midway.

"Hey?!"

Peyton jerked at his touch, slapping him again.

"How dare you even think to speak to me, Lucas Scott? How dare you?"

Lucas stood there, confused.

"What are you talking about, what did I do?"

She pushed him. "You know what you did!"

Jesus, her nose was burning, her eyes were stinging. Oh God, she was about to cry. She tried to walk away but he grabbed her by her shoulders and held her steady.

"Oh, don't cry. Tell me what I did, please...Pey..."

She turned her head, trying so hard to stop the tears that were already trailing down the sides of her cheeks.

"You left me," She barely managed to whisper out.

"In a damned letter, you left me."

Lucas lessened his grip.

"Peyton..." He trailed off. "That was so long ago..."

"And?"

"...and I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything; just get your filthy hands off of me."

He saw that familiar fire in her eyes just then and she his.

"You're the same asshole that you were years ago, Lucas."

"Well, you haven't exactly changed much yourself."

Peyton grabbed him by the shoulders and kneed him straight in the groin, causing Lucas to fall to his knees, grunting and gritting his teeth.

"Fuck."

"Yeah, well—one thing that has changed is letting myself get pushed around by Scott men."

He struggled to his feet as she stood looking down at him, arms crossed.

"Was that really necessary?"

Peyton raised her nose in the air. "Maybe. You still just get me so damned mad, Luke."

Lucas leaned against the brick wall, his forehead against the cool stone.

"...because I am the one person who still gets you, Peyton."

Peyton turned, her eyes almost narrowed.

"Excuse me?"

"The reason I can get you so damn mad, is because I get you."

"Uh, I don't think so, Scott. You stopped getting me and getting to me along time ago."

Lucas slowly straightened as the pain began to dissipate.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure."

Lucas's eyes swept over her—taking notice to her fists clenched at her side.

He moved towards her, as she began to move back...a deer in headlights. She moved until her back was against the wall.

"What are you trying to prove?" She whispered.

Lucas shrugged slightly.

"Dunno. Maybe that even after all these years there is still something between us."

"Oh, I don't think so," She said incredulously. "I really don't think so."

"You sure," Lucas asked, his voice lower.

He moved his face close to hers, his mouth only a hair-breath away.

She could feel his warm breath on her lips. Her eyes closed, just drinking it in for small moment.

Lucas rubbed his lips against hers...not kissing her, but teasing her.

Peyton's fists tightened. Jesus, this was all kinds of wrong. Her heart was beating like a drum in her ears. No. No. No.

Yes. Yes. Yes. Her hands frantically cupped Lucas's face as she tilted her head upwards, meeting his lips in a searing kiss—a reunion of two souls who had long been parted.

His hands ran through her curls. He was drinking her in with every fiber of his being. His tongue captured hers, dancing in an intense fervor 'til he forgot where they were. He slammed her roughly against the wall, a low growl of appreciation in his throat. His hand slid up her smooth leg.

"Peyton..." He whispered.

Peyton didn't want to think. No, she wanted to feel. He made her feel. She wanted him to take her right here. She could feel the animal inside her that he let out as she moved to kiss his neck. Then she heard him call out to her...

She pushed him away just then. It took everything she had. She shook her head.

"Where do you get off?"

"Pey—"

"No, don't. You're the same self-serving jerk you've always been, Lucas Scott."

Peyton looked down. When did she drop her purse? She quickly picked it up and backed away before Lucas could grab her.

"Don't you dare, Lucas. All you'll have left is a bloody stump."

She turned and left him standing in the dark.

Lucas could feel her lips still on his. He could feel her need...

His fingers ran over his mouth.

God, he missed her.