Didja really think I'd leave it sad? (Elizabeth) Lol

But…and this is a big BUT…

I wrote this ending a long time after the original story so I apologies if it's not up to my usual standard, I just couldn't keep wondering what happened to these two…

I hope you enjoy reading it as much I enjoy reading your reviews; hope I see you on the next story review board ;) Thank you

Chapter 16

This is so not happening.

I'm singing. Well, trying to, I should say because right now everyone in the sound booth is fidgeting uncomfortably and frowning with tiredness because I keep flunking this line.

Hell, I keep flunking this whole verse, I muse with a strained sigh. I rub my palm over my forehead and fight for an answer to my apparent singing block.

"Do you need a break?" Antonio asks me, opening the door between the sound booth and myself.

"I need something…" I admit, sagging.

"We should break for the day then because the next artist is waiting…" He informs me and I nod sadly.

"Okay I'm sorry I wasted our time…"

"Look, all that matters right now is you. Is everything okay?" He checks.

"Everything is fine," I assure flatly, pushing open the swishing door that opens into the waiting room. "Everything is just-"

Holy shitballs.

/

Okay so I might have blacked out. I think it was the fact I only ate a packet of Orio's for lunch (my favourite) but it may have also had something to do with the fact that Troy Bolton was sitting on that sofa, in that waiting room- only with someone else.

Another girl. Another artist. Someone who used to be me; only it wasn't anymore because that's right- he'd left me. I guess that kind of didn't help my fainting thing.

"Why do you always black out on me?" Troy asks me as I come round, seemingly I am laid on the waiting room sofa as a worried group of onlookers stand around me.

"Wh-?" I frown, trying to put the pieces together, staring at Troy and wondering if he is a figment of my imagination.

"I know, it's confusing," he acknowledged.

"What happened?"

"You walked out, took one look at me and blacked out," he recounted with a grim press of his lips.

"Oh."

"Miss Montez, is everything okay?" The voice comes from the back of the crowd and belongs to a tall man in a sharp suit- walkie talkie in his hand and being spoken into as he breaks through the crowd to reach me. Troy looks over his shoulder to the approaching man-mountain and then looks back to me with a squint.

"You have a new guard?"

Now why should he look so surprised, I wonder? Why should it be such a shock that I have a new body guard? After all, it was he who left.

"Miss Montez?" Barry asks formally, reminding me I have someone to answer to.

"I'm ok, Barry," I smile wanly and he nods curtly, dissipating the crowd while I finish my…what would you call it? Liaison? While I finish my liaison with Troy.

"Well I guess that's me done, then," Troy smiles with one side of his mouth, kind of wryly and I think really, he has no right to look so put-out. What was he doing here, anyway?

As Troy stands to leave, Barry comes back over and touches the back of his hand to my forehead.

"You haven't got a fever." He assures me. "Shall I carry you to the car?"

Now normally, I would have said no and fought every step of the way by myself. Normally I would have smirked at the suggestion I needed help- especially carrying for that matter and have peeled myself up with dead determination. Only somewhere deep inside I want to prove something to Troy. Something inside me wants him to see me being looked after by someone else- the same way he has someone else to look after, too.

Hah, I crow internally as Barry lifts me into his arms bridal style and turns with me, toward the squinting, tensed Troy. I see him swallow and then hear the tightness in his voice.

"It was good to see you again."

Really? Well what am I supposed to say to that? It was great to see youtoo! So great in fact, that I thought I might pass out from the shock of it all! Ugh.

"Maybe for you," I mutter, carried from the room and placed gently into the passenger seat of the SUV Barry drives.

"Are you okay Miss?" Barry asks as I wipe fast tears from my cheeks and I manage a nod before he lofts the door shut and drives me back to the hotel where I can shut myself away from the world and forget all about Troy and his ridiculously blue eyes.

/

"Is there no God in this world?" I sigh as I push open the lobby door to meet Antonio in the parking lot- he's taking me to work as Barry had an errand to run before he meets me at the studio.

Only who is out there, guarding his precious princess as she signs autographs for the small crowd- a crowd who would have been waiting for me and who seem to actually have been waiting for me as they surge forward past Troy's charge and seemingly aim for me now.

"Gabriella! Gabi! Can we have an autograph?"

Oh, jeez. I grit my teeth at being forced into the same twenty feet as that man and force a smile out for the devoted crowd who have been waiting for me to appear.

"Hey, sure," I answer the first fan and sign dutifully, trying not to watch Troy from the corner of my eye and failing miserably. He's safely belted the girl into the car that is waiting for her and then he turns back toward me, an indescribable look on his face. I can only liken it to his ambiguous squint of yesterday.

"Are you okay?" He asks over the crowd of fans, who've grown and become stronger.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" I smile wanly back.

I see him sigh and curl his lip, his gaze dropping and in that moment I feel my tummy drop at his look. Okay maybe I was a little bit mean, but god, what did he expect would happen? I thought I had gotten over all that and then wham! There he is, in all his muscled, blue eyed glory and somehow I have a total break down. Black out. Malfunction. Should I be pleased with this fact? Should I welcome him with open arms? Should I-

"Whoa, easy!" I tease as the teens begin to push forward for attention, rocking me back on my heels.

"Excuse me," Troy firmly drives his body through the crowd, alleviating the pressure I'm facing as they all stand back at his command, something I still find incredibly sexy about him. He can just control anyone with one look and that strong body of his.

"You're not my guard anymore, Troy," I tell him even though my panic subsides as the crowd disperse. Instead my heart is thundering from being close to him again, from being able to look into those eyes again.

"I know," he accepts softly, his voice tinged with regret. "And I'm sorry about that."

I shrug indifferently, the crowd now gone, my arms loose by my sides. "I have someone new."

"Did you fall for him, too?" He asks with a husk, bringing my shocked gaze up the same second I gasp at his words.

"How dare you?" I whisper, squinting at him before I swallow on a tight throat and then turn with an angry flourish, heading back toward the lobby to wait in safety for Antonio. Where the hell was he anyway?

"Gabi…" He calls after me and I feel him following me so I deliberately shut the heavy glass door in his face when I reach the foyer, smirking at his surrendered hands as he pauses the door from injuring him.

"Gabi, please," he tries again as I cross the marble floor and head right for the main desk.

"Security please," I tell the receptionist.

The receptionist smiles and nods over my shoulder. "Mr. Bolton is right behind you, he's a private bodyguard," the lady offers.

"That's who I need security to get away from," I annunciate with clenched teeth and the receptionist lifts her brows in surprise, flicking her eyes between myself and Troy who is now leaning on the counter sideways and trying to get my attention.

"Mr. Bolton, is there a problem?" The receptionist asks him.

"Why are you asking him?" I seethe. "I'm the one with the problem! And it's him!" I add for good measure.

"Gabi," he murmurs my name, so sweetly that I have to close my eyes to the sound of his husky voice, tears spilling down my face even now. Why? Why was I letting him do this? I was through all this! I didn't need him anymore. I didn't want him. I didn't….shit, who am I kidding?

"Please." He says one more time, just as softly, just as patiently and this time I open my eyes and turn to him.

"What Troy? What could you possibly have to say to me?" I arch my brow in challenge.

"I miss you."

/

He missed me? Is that the best he could do? I should think it was obvious he missed me- I'm a missable person, right?

But oh god, did he have to say it when his eyes were all big and begging and remorseful? Did he have to look so damn gorgeous and smell so damn irresistible? What was this, my unluckiest day?

I took a sigh and smiled grimly. "Poor you." I managed tightly, swiping at my tears before I turned and left the front desk in favour of the bar where the bar man poured me a neat whiskey that I downed in one.

"Thanks, Dave," I whisper as the satisfying burn of the liquid runs down my body.

"Can we talk?" He's behind me, again, with his soft words and pleading eyes.

"Oh god, this sounds like some bad movie plot," I deride and nod to Dave to pour me another shot to which he obliges.

"Don't give her anymore," he tells the barman, stepping close to me. "She's underage."

I open my mouth in indignant shock at his attempt to curb my drinking. "I am not!"

"We need to talk," he repeats while I look away moodily.

"I'm sorry if I don't feel much like talking to you right now, Troy," I spit, turning on him with squinted eyes. "But you know, I was in love with you when you walked out on me and that's kinda hard to get over…"

I brush by him and head out of the bar.

"That's just the thing!" He calls out, pausing me from my escape as I take laboured breaths in and out, my chest hurting, my heart thumping, my head spinning from the neat alcohol so early in the day.

"I was in love with you too," he adds more softly. "Well, actually, I still am." He amends. "And I'd like to talk about it."

I turn with every intent to tell him 'Now you want to talk about it? Now you love me back?' but somehow, the words don't come.

"You're lying," is what I manage to choke out as tears continue to stream down my face, sobs erupting from the fresh pain I feel at his words, coming too soon, coming too late.

"No, I'm not." He assures in that soft, coarse voice of his. "Please, talk to me."

I close my eyes and realise this is not going to go away until we have talked. I might not want to, it might be the worst thing I ever do, but it has to be done.

"Fine," I concede, making a quick call to Antonio before I trail back to Troy's hotel room where I sit tensely on the chair at the desk.

"Uh…gimme ten minutes to change?" He wonders, his face creased with fatigue.

"Fine, whatever," I shrug, not feeling the nonchalance I exude.

He reappears in jeans and a navy t-shirt, his soft hair messed from his quick change and I notice his fingers rub over his cheek and down over his mouth as if he is struggling with words.

"So you're probably wondering why I'm here…" He begins.

"You might say that."

"I promise I didn't come here to stir anything up- I came with Serena for the job. I had no idea you were here, too." He explained.

"Right." I nod curtly.

"And, god, Gabi, when I saw you yesterday it just all came flooding back you know? Everything." He sighed.

"Tell me about it."

His eyes flicked to mine. "I'm sorry I shocked you…I didn't know you would…"

"Pass out?" I supply succinctly.

"Yeah, I didn't know…and then it hit me-that maybe you still had feelings for me too. That maybe I wasn't the only one living in denial."

"Troy," I roll my eyes as I stand to face him. "You didn't even like me at the start. You didn't even fancy me till you saw my Playboy and you know what? You didn't even say you loved me until you saw me again."

"I loved you from day one." His voice is husky and scratched and I look up at him questioningly.

"What?"

"At first sight. That first day when I knocked on your door to get you up and you pulled it open, wearing some big, ugly check pyjama's with your hair all wavy and loose and your face, oh god," he chuckled. "You looked like you could hit me."

"I wanted to…"

"I know. And I loved you for it. From that very second."

"But you fought it ever since?" I marvel, wishing I could have had that much control and feeling guilty that I hadn't.

"The age gap. The job I had to do…they way you felt about me." He added.

"How did that change anything?"

"Because I knew I couldn't break your heart. I had to get it right."

"You kinda failed," I tell him honestly, with a glimmer of a smile on my lips as his words began to sink in. Maybe he really did love me?

"I know," he sighs. "But I have a chance to make up for it."

He catches my hands and holds them, begging me with hurt blue eyes as he brings me closer where I can't escape his gaze. "You still have feelings for me, right?"

"I don't know any more," I shake my head, tears spilling, wondering what is left and what is right as I try and make sense of it all.

He sags, hanging his head. "I'm so sorry," he whispers. "I understand if you don't want to be here. I'll take you to your room…"

"I don't want to be in my room!" I pull my hands away. "I just want to be with someone who loves me!"

"I do love you." He assures quickly

"Then why lie to me?"

He steps closer, raises his hand, winces as he looks into my tear-filled eyes and then goes to touch my cheek with his thumb and finger, stopping before he makes contact, ghosting his caress there as he looks into my eyes and prepares to speak his answer.

"I lied to you because I thought it's what I had to do," he admits, his arm snaking around my middle, pulling me into his warm, solid body, propping me up as my hands meet his chest. "I lied to you because I am the biggest idiot on this earth."

"You said it," I tease, a hopeful smile curling on my lips.

"Can you forgive me?" He begs.

I stare into that handsome face of his and wonder how, how can I stop myself from kissing him when his eyes are begging me to, when his body is pressing into mine like this and when his words have such a deep meaning? Of course he lied, I tell myself. He did it because of Dad to save us both! Forgive him already. Kiss him, already.

"I don't know if I can…" My breathy words are barely-there as I gaze into his eyes, mesmerised, so close we could kiss right now.

"Gabi, I love you. I should never have left," he whispers back and I swallow, knowing he has me, knowing he's had me since we walked into this room to talk.

The meeting of our mouths is slow at first, hesitant, hovering and closing in like neither of us has done this before, only it's a test. A test to see if the other actually does exist and in actual fact does want this as much as we each feel.

It's heaven. His mouth on mine, his lips on mine, his arms holding me tight-so tight- into his big, strong body. I raise my arm, looping it around his neck as I carry on kissing him, tickling his hair with one hand and placing my other hand lower, on that backside I have only dreamed about, secretly smirking at my improvisation.

When Troy pulls back, his breath is hot and quickened and he swallows and smiles. His hair is messed by my one ranging hand- which I have curled into his hair and take great pleasure in ruining further.

"Do have a thing for my ass?" He flips a brow up, flipping my belly with it, his curly grin all too much to bear right now.

"I might have missed it a little," I excuse, squeezing for effect with an innocent smile.

"I missed you, Montez," he admits with a sigh.

"I missed you, too," I lean in for a hug, receiving it, strong and hard around me.

His blue eyes meet mine, guiltily. "I'm sorry I didn't say I love you back, when I had the chance. When you needed to hear it."

"It's okay," I nod.

"I'll make it up to you, Gabi," he lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles. "I promise."

/

Okay, so I'm silly in-love.

I'm actually holding hands in the supermarket, showing off the tasty hunk that is my boyfriend while I tag ahead, pulling him gently behind me when I turn and smile at him knowingly.

"Why are you going so slow?"

"That not what you normally say," his smile and his look are X –rated. I've told him before not to flash those in public. We got caught the last time he tried that when it ended in an impromptu 'make out' session that got out of hand.

"We have to get Taylor a cake!" I urge of my friend's birthday.

"Remember your birthday?" He husks into my ear, binding his arms around my waist and stopping me, in the middle of the aisles, his PDA off the scale for such a place.

"Yeah, I got a brick thrown at me," I sark.

"You can have a proper one this year…" he offers.

"I'm staying in. It's much safer…"

So, I still sing. I travel my way around the world. And sometimes, Troy comes with me. But he's a Private Investigator now. He can afford time off, if we want to vacation, or travel for my work, and he works to please himself and keep our relationship healthy. And it is. I've never been happier.

Even my parents have noticed.

"So, how long do we actually have to stay at this thing?" He wonders as he hangs behind me while I choose a suitable cake.

"Troy…"

"I'm just asking…"

"Stop perving on my outfit and get a grip. We're not going home before midnight." I warn and he groans in complaint.

"You wore the outfit," he beseeches in his defence and he's right. I did. The outfit being the one he makes no pretence of loving. The one I wore just for him, on his birthday. And that was the first time we made love, two months after we met again at the hotel, two months into our official relationship. And it was amazing, it really was. I smile as I remember it, even now.

"Taylor wanted a doctors and nurses night," I defend, knowing my short, pink nurses coat, pink wig and matching pink stockings, clear stripper shoes and evident cleavage are his secret fantasy.

"You're giving me that smile, too," he twinkles knowingly and I flick my eyes down his decent effort to look like a doctor. His head has a round, silver disk light banded across it. He's wearing a white coat, with nothing under it except his stethoscope and he's even put on white trousers- against his will may I add.

"What smile?"

"The one you do when you're thinking about it," he says tightly.

"It?" I wonder, carrying the cake to the till and smiling at the lady as she gives us strange looks because of our attire.

"Sex." He whispers into my ear, making me tense with awareness as an image of him naked pops into my mind.

"You have to stop thinking about it or we'll never get there," I announce crossly as I stride out, box in hand.

"That sounds good to me…is that an option?" He questions hopefully.

"Troy," I swing round, at the car and press my finger to his chest. "Do you remember those days when you wouldn't even dream of kissing me? Let alone making love to me?" I question.

"Please don't say making love again…"

"Recall how you controlled your urges and apply the logic," I instruct, sliding into my car.

"I can't go in there in these pants, I have to change," he decides as he straps himself in and then places the cake box over his lap.

"Oh, please," I roll my eyes.

"I mean it. These things are see through."

"Believe me; I'm going to be enjoying that fact…"

"I don't want everyone seeing…my bits," he whispers, making me giggle.

"Troy! As if they would even notice."

We stop at a stop light and he lifts the cake box away. "You wouldn't notice?" he questions of the evident press of his arousal against the thin white material of his trousers, a sight which has me regretting ever going to this party in the first place.

"Put that away!" I scold, flustered and turned on, knowing how his heat feels inside me, knowing how his body loves mine and how perfectly we fit together, only governed by our desire.

"You started it."

"You just have a thing for this outfit…"

"I asked you if we could…before we left," he reminded me and I close my eyes wishing I had now, just to shut him up.

"And turn up late, ruffled?" I question.

"Pull over," he growls and I squint.

"No way."

"I mean it Gabi. You either pull over now or I kiss you anyway."

"A kiss is never just a kiss with you…"

"So pull over and let me do what I really want to do…"

"Tr-"

I have pulled over. He has grabbed me for a kiss and now it's too late to think about anything other than the inevitable. I meet his gaze, panting.

"We have to get home."

"Thank god!" He cheers.

"Taylor will understand. You had stomach- ache, okay? A really, really bad one…"

"You're telling me," he agrees, licking his lips as I speed through traffic.

"So bad, you couldn't leave the house," I run up the stairs to his LA Apartment, using my key to enter, receiving his lips on mine as we twist into the hallway, hitting the walls, his mouth on my neck, his hands running up my thighs.

"I cannot possibly leave this house," he confirms in a growl, suckling my neck again, then lower, toward my bra.

"Troy, we have to stop this," I ache for his hands anywhere on me- everywhere and he seems to comply.

"Stop what?" He is gasping for air, sucking, kissing just as I am groping, rubbing, wanting more.

"Stop making love when we should be celebrating with our friends…"

"I told you not to say that," he complains and I find out why.

We're sated, much later, collapsed on the sofa having not even made it much past the hall.

"Are we too late to drop by?" Troy checks, nuzzling my nose with his as he rests between my thighs.

"Yes, Doctor. You missed your appointment."

A groan, a kiss to my chest. "You should call her."

"I think she would have guessed by now what happened."

"You mean she knows about us? About this?" He looks up, perturbed.

"What else am I meant to say when I'm running twenty minutes late and arrive with a birds nest as hair?" I quip.

"Or grass stains..." he grins in memory.

"Carpet burns," I arch a brow at that one.

"Ouch, sorry," he nuzzles me and places a soft kiss to my mouth this time.

I stretch my arms above my head and wriggle against his heavy body. "I guess I can forgive you."

"I did give you that amazing gift on our six month anniversary…" He smiles, speaking about the hot air balloon ride he had arranged as a surprise. I have to say, it was entirely adorable of him. And one of the best days of my life.

"Are you still claiming on that?" I wonder as I play with his hair, wondering how this man could actually be amazing enough to care about six month anniversaries anyway.

Boy I got lucky.

A kiss, to my mouth. "Do I have any credit left?"

He had credit. A lot of it.

As we shared ourselves again, we lay spent after, contemplating what had brought us together.

"I know you got shot because of it," he begins, dropping the softest kiss to my scarred arm, "but without that stalker, we would never have this. Us."

"It's best not to think about it," I share, now laying on his chest where we've done a full circle.

"I can't help it. I always wonder, what if…," he admits.

"Well, what if the guy had shot me anyway but all along, you never loved me and I never loved you?" I question. "We happened for a reason."

"That's why I love you so much," he smiles and kisses my forehead.

"Because I'm so clever?" I fish.

"Because you can tell me when I'm being a doofus."

"You're not a doofus," I amend.

"I over think things."

"It's cute."

"Is that why you love me too?" He fishes right back, trailing fingers down my arm lazily.

"No, it's because of your massive…" I pause with a grin. "Apartment."

His brows-which were raised-fall as he smiles affectionately.

"That's my girl," he squeezes me tight knowingly.

"But I do love you," I add, before I lay my cheek back down to his chest and listen for his heartbeat to will me to sleep.

And it's there, just like he is, beating hard and strong like the love I feel for him in my own veins.

My (ex) bodyguard. Who'd have thought?