Oreos
for Breakfast: Chapter Four
By The Paperbag Princess and The
Pumpkin Coach
Chapter
Four:
Page
1 | Page 2 | Page 2.5 | Page
3
Note: page 2.5 added 12-31-03
"Rache! You should see this!"
I opened my eyes when James said my name. How long had I been asleep here on his couch? I had to get out of this fucking city. I wanted to go home, but the thought of the drive seemed overwhelming.
James was sitting in front of the TV, and I squinted at it. Backstreet! TRL, it looked like. One, two, three, four… "Where's AJ?" I asked, smiling to myself. Still hungover from Saturday?
James shook his head, listening.
"He came to us yesterday," Howie said, "And told us he needed help."
I gasped, flying off the couch to sit next to James on the floor in front of the TV. Oh my god.
AJ. In rehab. Today.
"James, we just saw him!" I cried. James put an arm around me, pulling me close to him.
Not AJ. Depression? They're talking about how depressed he is? AJ was the funny one! We'd spent all of Saturday night together, drinking and laughing.
Oh, good god. He came to them yesterday? And we'd been out on Saturday. Did something happen after I left them at the hotel? He was still drinking at 4 am when we left…
I scanned the faces of the Boys, finding Nick, who was looking everywhere but the camera, fiddling with his mic and his cast. He looked heartbroken. He blinked quickly, then wiped away a tear, and I wanted to reach through the screen and hug him.
James and I just sat there, not speaking, just watching the drama unfold. Finally they cut to their video, and we looked at one another. "He was fine, James."
He shrugged at me. "He's not now."
"Did you see Nick? Did you see all of them? They look horrible."
"Well, think about what they've been dealing with for the last 24 hours or so."
"Good god, they've rescheduled the dates already," I said, glancing at the screen, where rescheduled dates were scrolling at the bottom of the video. "We can't plan a one-day video shoot, and they've redone a month of the tour."
"They have a million people working for them, Rachel. I sorta doubt your boyfriend was calling the Meadowlands to reschedule that date."
I half smiled at him, watching the new dates flash by. I loved this video; I loved how it looked like Nick was dancing to a completely different song.
They cut back from the video to Carson in the studio. They were gone, they must be.
I jumped up, finding my phone. Should I call him? Would he want to hear from me?
I had 10 messages, five of them from him. The one Sunday morning must have been before he found out, because he was cute and flirty as always. The others were different, from late Sunday night until about an hour ago. His voice was sad and quiet, each time he apologized for bothering me when I was on vacation, but it was important. I had his number dialed before I could think about it.
My phone rang, and Kevin glared over at me. I ignored him, pulling it out of my pocket, glancing at the number on the display. Rachel. I flipped it open, not saying a word. There were fans inches away from me as we walked to the van, and I was close to losing it.
"Nick, honey! Are you okay? Is AJ okay?"
"Yeah."
"I'm sorry I didn't call last night. I just checked my messages."
"It's okay." I shouldn't have called her. She told me not to, that she was on vacation. But she was the only one that could possibly make me feel better.
"No, it's not. You needed someone to talk to, and I'm sorry I wasn't there."
I climbed into the van, taking the farthest corner seat. I would not cry. I'd already made an idiot of myself on TV, I just knew that clip was going to be everywhere tomorrow.
"You're busy, aren't you, sweetie?"
"Yes."
"Call me when you're free. I'll leave my phone on. Promise."
"Thanks."
I shut my phone, and looked out the window, ignoring everyone else.
I clicked off my phone and it immediately rang. Nick again? Shit, EMI.
Oh, god, our tour, around Backstreet's, I hadn't even thought about that yet… the phone rang again and I clicked it on. "Rachel Connor."
"It's Amber. Where are you, we need to meet."
I hated the businesslike Amber. Hell, I hated any Amber. Why the hell did we ever think it was a good idea to manage ourselves? If we had a manager, the manager could deal with Amber. Attempting to sound professional, I responded. "I'm in the city with James. We can be there."
"Where are the others?"
"Darien's in the city…" I considered for a moment. "I think Jeremy is on a plane to Minneapolis." Dear god, let that be true. I did not want to face his teasing over this. Or his wrath if AJ's rehab fucked with our tour.
"Will he be off the plane in an hour?"
"Probably." Damnit. "I'll call Darien and J. When do you want us there?"
"An hour." She hesitated, then came back with her 'oh, let's be girlfriends' voice. Ugh. "Do you watch TRL every day, Rachel, or did you know your boyfriend was going to be on?"
Oh, that was a loaded question. "We were flipping stations and caught it."
"Some fan reports saw you with AJ and Nick in Boston on Saturday…" she started, and I cut her off.
"I don't know what happened, Amber. Don't pump me for info, I don't have any. See you in an hour."
I clicked off the phone and screamed, tossing it across the room. James caught it with a smile. "Now, no need for a tantrum."
"Can we get someone else assigned to us? I hate her!"
James glanced down at my phone, punching in Darien's number, no doubt. "I know. Are they changing our tour?"
"I don't know. We have to be there in an hour." I considered for a moment. "Hey, we didn't want to be with Backstreet anyway. This might work out…" Maybe Jeremy wouldn't spend all summer teasing me about my Backstreet Boyfriend after all…
My phone rang, and I answered on the second ring. "Nick?"
"Hi." His voice was quiet, tired.
"Where are you?"
"On my way back to the hotel. Planning meeting."
"Where you will still not talk, right?" I tried to joke, and he snorted.
"Probably not."
I wanted to hug him so bad I could barely stand it. I almost asked where they were staying, but they were busy, he didn't have time for me to stop by. "Are you okay, baby?"
"Fine."
"I don't believe you."
He was quiet for a moment. "I can't…" He took a deep breath. "I can't really talk."
"Alright, I'll let you go. Call whenever you want, I'll answer."
"No! Stay on the phone."
I could hear screams, and I smiled. "You are at the hotel, and you want me to be on the phone so you can look busy."
I could hear him smile. "Well…"
I laughed. "Alright, I'll be bad cop this once. What do you want me to talk about?"
"Where are you? Tell me about your vacation."
"I'm not on vacation. I'm in a cab with James, coming back from a meeting with EMI. Tell AJ Jeremy is perfectly happy that your tour is no longer part of our tour," I teased.
"What?" I'd confused him.
"Our tour was supposed to loop around yours, right?"
"Yeah…" he answered slowly.
"Well, you're not touring anymore. But we still are. I just sat in a meeting for two fucking hours to end up changing nothing."
"So you're in New York?" he didn't sound very sympathetic to my annoyance.
"Yeah."
"When are you leaving?"
"When I know you're okay."
There were fans everywhere, grabbing at me, asking about AJ, AJ, AJ.
And Rachel was still in the city.
Frank got me inside and on to the elevator and in the quiet, I could talk to her again. "You're here?"
She laughed. "I'm amazed that you could remember that, after all that screaming."
"We're at the Ritz Carlton. Can you get here?"
"Nick!" Kevin barked, and I whirled around. I didn't even notice him on the elevator. "You still have a job to do."
"Fuck off, Kevin. I am so goddamn sick of you ordering me around."
Frank stepped in between us, pushing me into the corner. "That's enough, boys."
I could hear Rachel smiling into the phone. "Did I get you in trouble?"
"Kevin's being an ass."
"Be nice to him. He was amazing on TRL." I glared over at him. He wouldn't even let me talk when we were on TRL. "I think maybe emotions are a tad high in the Backstreet camp today?"
"You could say that."
"You were all good. I'm so totally impressed."
"Why?" What had we done?
"You've been so fucking honest. You could have made something up, you could have hidden behind your broken hand, anything. But you've been great. Even Jeremy said he was impressed."
Wow. We impressed Jeremy?
She's probably making that up to make me feel better. It even worked, a little.
The elevator stopped and I stepped off with a sigh. "I gotta go."
She started to sing it, I could hear her, she loved to tease me with that final line of 'The Call.' But that was AJ's line, and no one was joking about AJ at the moment. "Alright. Seriously, Nick, call me when you're free. I'll be here, I'll stay in the city another night."
"Thanks." I hung up the phone and squared my shoulders. More discussion of my stupid life. No tears.
He was breaking my heart, he sounded so sad. I clicked off my phone and stared out the window for a moment, turning when James spoke. "Did he tell you where they're staying?"
"The Ritz Carlton," I answered, surprised when James leaned forward to the cabbie, telling him to take us to the Ritz Carlton.
"What the hell are you doing?" I asked.
"I think the little blond boy would really like to see you."
"He's busy. I'm sure he's surrounded by people," I protested.
James smiled at me. "But he lurves you."
I had to smile back. "He has a crush."
"Yeah, he's got that, but he likes you as a friend, too. I've seen you together. I bet he could use a friend that isn't in the Backstreet camp right now."
"I'm not going to be able to get near him."
"You know his check-in name, don't you?" I nodded. "Get inside the door and use that. Find Frank."
I considered him for a moment, then smiled. "Alright…"
The cab let us out on the corner, because we couldn't get near the hotel, it was too crowded with fans. James and I considered the door, then attempted to walk up to it with rock star attitude. They were checking keys, only guests allowed inside.
Foiled, we retreated to our corner. "Any more bright ideas, James?"
"You could call him."
I scowled at him. "Well, that would be too easy." He laughed as I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Nick. I got his voicemail, and clicked out, then started paging through my stored numbers. I'd stored Frank's number in here, hadn't I? I'd called to him tell him where our Boston gig was.
That Texas drawl answered. "Yeah."
"Frank, it's Rachel."
"What's wrong?" He was so long suffering, that Frank. I wondered how he was holding up.
"I'm outside, and they won't let me in."
He was quiet for a moment.
"Will I be in the way? I can just go. Tell him I called."
"No. He'll want to see you. It's a fucking madhouse out there, don't come in the front."
I looked up and caught a fan's eye. She recognized me, I could tell. "Too late, I've been spotted."
He sighed. "Alright. I'll meet you at the front door."
I shut off my phone and grinned at James. "Frank's meeting me at the door."
James put an arm around me. "Let me walk you. This might be difficult."
"It'll be fine."
The fan that caught my eye approached me carefully as James and I headed for the door. "Are you Rachel?"
I smiled at her. "Yeah."
"Are you going in?" She asked me nervously.
"I'm trying," I smiled, and she smiled back, relaxing a little.
"Can you give this to them?" It was a letter, nicely sealed in a pretty envelope.
"Does it go to a specific Boy?"
She shook her head. "It's to all of them."
I took it from her, and that started it. By the time I got to the door, I had dozens of letters, banners, posters, a Yankees T-shirt for Kevin, and about a million stuffed animals. And a can of Silly String. Three steps from the door, Frank got us, ushering us both inside, with the eye roll to end them all.
"You should have gone in the back."
"But now I have presents!"
He half-smiled at me, shaking his head, then glanced over at James. James started piling things in my arms. "No worries, dude, I'm not going up."
"Fine. Stop that. I'll get a box."
He magically reappeared a second later with a box, and I dumped all the gifts into it. James gave me a kiss and Frank whisked me onto the elevator. "They're just finishing up. Do you want to give that to all of them, or wait in Nick's room?"
"Um…" I barely knew the others. Except AJ. But who didn't like presents? "All of them, I guess. There's one thing in here especially for Kevin. Is that okay? Will they mind that I'm interrupting? Are they really upset?"
"They've got the games faces on, they'll be glad to see a friend."
Am I a friend? We got off the elevator and Frank knocked on a door at the end of the hall, sticking his head inside. "Five more minutes, boys."
I sagged in my seat. Five more minutes? I couldn't take one more. I wanted to lock my door and crawl into a hole and cry. Then call Rachel.
A box of presents walked in the door, and the person holding it dropped it on the coffee table.
Oh, god, it's her.
I'd never been so glad to see someone in my life.
She smiled around the room. "Look, presents!" She reached into the box, throwing a teddy bear to Howie. "I'm not entirely sure why canceling your summer tour inspires teddy bears, but whatever." Howie smiled at her, catching the bear.
"Postponed. We postponed the tour," Kevin told her, looking serious, and I wanted to smack him.
She nodded at him, that sweet smile still on her face. Or was it nervous? Was she nervous? "Okay. Well, postponing the tour inspired someone to give you a Yankees T-shirt, Kevy." She found it and handed it over to him, and he gave her the faintest hint of a smile. The woman is a miracle worker. "Now, who wants the letters? You have lots of letters."
We sighed almost in unison, making her giggle, and the publicist took them. "Where did all this come from, Rachel?" Brian asked, smiling at her. "Where did you come from, at that?"
"Frank snuck me in. The fans figured out I was one of yours. Although half of them are convinced I'm having a torrid affair with AJ, so I'm sorta surprised I didn't get stoned."
"Nah, you were a messenger. You'll be the nice girlfriend for a minute," Howie smiled at her, looking up from poking through the box of stuff.
"They find it really difficult to believe that a woman in the Backstreet camp could be merely a friend," she shrugged. "Can't wait to read the boards tomorrow. They all saw me, and the ones that didn't know who I was will now."
Can I tell them that I'm madly, stupidly in love with you? That you're not a girlfriend, but not because I haven't tried?
She chatted with the others and I just watched her as she distributed gifts and made them all smile a little. Howie wanted to know how many people were outside and they walked over to the window together. She touched my shoulder as she passed by me, giving me a worried little smile and I was all I could do not to burst into tears.
I was so glad she was here.
But I wanted to cry. I wanted to be alone to scream.
She and Howie were at the window, looking down at the fans and laughing. "Nick, this one has her phone number on her arm, she wants you to call her," Howie told me, and I turned around to look at them.
"Does that work for them? Are you driven wild when you see your name on a girl's forehead?" She grinned at me and then looked out the window again, musing. "Did she do that herself, or did a friend have to do that for her? Did someone actually encourage her to write on herself like that?"
She sounded horrified, and we all laughed. The publicist stood up, gathering her many papers. "You all need some sleep. 6:30 tomorrow, I promise I'll let you leave the city by noon."
So what? Where was I going to go? No matter where I went, there would be fans, asking questions, wanting to know how I was, how AJ was.
We sucked. We were completely miserable. The others got up to leave, but I didn't move until Rachel sat in front of me. "Do you just want to be alone? I'm sorry, you asked if I could get here…"
I cut her off. "Don't you dare leave."
Smiling, she took my hand, pulling me out of my chair. "Let's go to your room, then." She grabbed a bear out of the gifts box and presented it to me. "Need a bear? There's a turtle in there, too. Ooh, a dolphin!"
I had to smile at her. "I have plenty of stuffed animals, Rache."
"I thought you were the one with the Beanie Baby fetish," she teased, tossing the bear back in the box.
I blushed. "Well, they're collectable."
She cracked up, letting me lead her out of the room and onto the elevator. Frank followed, glancing around for errant fans. She teased me and I let her, happy to just hold her hand. Frank let us into my room, then backed away. "6:30, little man. Rachel, I'm in the next room, call me before you leave, I'll get you out of here."
"Alright," she nodded.
She wasn't leaving, not if I could help it.
The door shut behind us and we just looked at one another for a moment. She stroked my face and I nearly came undone. "Baby, it's okay. I know it's scary, but he's just in rehab. He's not dead."
"I know." My voice broke and I shook my head. I wasn't going to cry, not in front of her.
Then she hugged me. She wrapped her arms around my waist and leaned her head against my chest, whispering to me. "Oh, sweetie, you look so sad."
I put my arms around her, pulling her into my body, biting my lip. I wouldn't cry.
"It's okay, Nick. You can cry. You've had a really bad couple of days, haven't you?"
He nodded against me, trying to catch his breath. "He's gonna be okay, honey. You're all gonna be okay."
He sobbed, and I held him tighter. He needed to cry, I could tell he'd been fighting hysteria for at least a day. I led him over to the couch, letting him fall against me and just sob into my shoulder.
God, he was breaking my heart. He sounded hopeless and inconsolable.
He cried forever, it seemed, while I held him, handing him tissues and telling him over and over again that it was going to be okay.
Finally he caught his breath, sitting up away from me and blowing his nose. "Sorry," he mumbled, not looking at me.
I turned his face to mine, dabbing away at his tears with a tissue. "For what? It's okay. This is a big thing, it deserves tears."
He just looked at me, lost.
"Oh, baby, what is it? AJ's gonna be fine."
"I should have helped him," he managed, shutting his eyes and turning away from me again.
"Aw, sweetie, you couldn't help him if he didn't want it. I had no idea he had a problem, and I spent all Saturday night with him."
"I knew. We all knew. And we made him tour."
I stroked his hair, not making him look at me. Maybe he'd talk more if he didn't look at me. "I've seen that boy on stage. You didn't make him do anything. He loves to perform."
He leaned his head on the back of the couch, facing away from me. I moved closer to him, still playing with his hair. "But not tour. Touring sucks. You can't have a relationship, he and Sarah were fighting…"
"AJ has a problem, Nick. Tour or not, he has a problem. This was going to happen sooner or later."
He shook his head. "We had a huge fight. I said some terrible things to him."
He wiped his face with his good hand, and I leaned my head against his back. "He knows you didn't mean them, Nick. If he doesn't now, he will."
His voice was barely a whisper. "But I did. I was so mad at him."
"That's okay. He was fucking up."
And I was so jealous of the way you looked at him. And he knew it. When we were screaming at each other he was talking about you. Saying I didn't have a chance in hell with a woman like you.
If this was different, if I was the one in rehab, would you be here comforting AJ instead?
I sighed and turned around to see her, wincing as I moved my arm. "Is your hand bothering you?" She asked.
It hurt like hell, throbbing every time I took a breath. I just nodded at her.
"Did they give you anything for it?"
"Yeah, but they make me all dopey and sleepy."
She smiled at me, brushing the hair away from my face. "When was the last time you slept?"
I shook my head. "Friday night."
"You need a pill, little man."
She started to get up and I pulled her back. "I really…"
"You're really pathetic, Nick. You need to sleep."
"No. Don't…" Don't go, if I sleep, who knows when I'll see you again?
She smiled at my panicked expression, stroking my face. "I'll stay. I'll sleep right here on the couch, and you can come get me if you have bad dreams."
"You could sleep with me. It's a big bed."
She laughed at my lame attempt at flirting. "I'll tuck you in. Now, where are your pills?"
She was probably right. I hadn't slept in days, and I had to be up at 6 tomorrow. What time was it? Only ten? It felt way later. "In the bathroom."
I found them on the counter. Vicodan. Great…
What the hell, did his doctor want another addicted pop star on his hands? I considered the bottle in front of me.
One wouldn't kill him. The prescription was for two a day, and the bottle was nearly full.
Smarter than I sometimes gave him credit for, that boy.
I filled a glass with water and returned to him. He was nearly asleep on the couch, poor thing. He took the pill with a scowl and then got up. "I'll give you a T-shirt to sleep in."
"Not the fugly orange shirt," I joked, trying to lift the mood.
It worked, as he pouted at me. "I look good in that shirt."
"You keep telling yourself that, baby."
I followed him into the bedroom, and he picked through his suitcase, handing me a plain green T-shirt with no sleeves. "That will do. Thanks. Do you need help undressing?"
I realized precisely how he was going to take that as soon as the words were out of my mouth. He raised an eyebrow at me, smiling.
"I meant because of your hand!"
"Yeah, getting out of these jeans is a bitch…" He ruined the flirt by yawning, and I laughed at him.
"Good try. Put on your jammies, little man."
He pouted at me as I went into the bathroom with my T-shirt.
It was a big bed. I could sleep with him.
Yeah, and you will resist the temptation to fuck those bad dreams right out of his pretty blond head, won't you, Rachel?
I changed my shirt, leaving on my jeans, then called to him. "Is it safe?"
"If it must be," he answered, and I stuck my head out. He was kicking his dirty clothes across the room, dressed in boxers and a T-shirt. Boxer briefs, to be exact. Black. Was he wearing them just to make me crazy?
"Shouldn't you attempt to pack? Aren't you leaving tomorrow?" He just shrugged, kicking things into piles. "You get a month off, what are you going to do?"
He sat on the bed, falling backwards. "I don't know! Everywhere I could go is surrounded. My house, my parents, I could go on Aaron's tour and see him and my mom, but his fans are worse than ours."
"I thought you loved your fans," I teased, and he looked up at me with a half-smile.
"I do. But I want to be left alone."
I didn't even think. "You could come with me."
He blinked up at me while I stood above him. "Where?"
"Home. My house." God, did I really say that? Did I just offer to share my precious solitude with him?
Yeah. He needed it more than I did.
"You don't… I can't…"
I cut him off. "Yes, you can. You don't know where I live. No one will care if you're out there."
He looked hopeful for the first time all night, and I would have signed my house over to him if it would make him smile. "Where do you live?"
"At the end of the North Fork of Long Island. About two hours away, in a very private, old town. No one bothers anyone, and no one tells any secrets."
"Will your parents mind?"
I giggled at him. "My mom will love you, and my nieces might lose their minds. But I'll keep you at the Point house. My house."
I had to get used to saying that. I sat in the chair across from the bed and he sat up to see me. "Your house? You don't live with your parents?"
"My dad left me his parents' house when he died last year."
His eyebrows went up. Had I never mentioned my dad to him? Probably not, it was not something I talked about.
And I wasn't about to go into it now. He did not need me getting maudlin on him.
"It's out at the end of the Point, it's got a view of water on three sides."
"Yeah?" He looked so excited. God, I'd give him the keys, he could stay there forever.
"It was my grandparents house, and we spent all our summers there. We just lived in town, like 15 minutes away, at the winery."
"The winery?" He was incredulous.
I smiled, pulling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. "Family business."
"There are wineries on Long Island?"
"There are many. My parents started one of the first. But we lived out there, it was closer to school. The Point house was like the vacation house, the boat's there, and we just ran around in our swimsuits, being kids. When my grandparents died, and Jon got married, he took the vineyard house and Mom and Dad moved to the Point. Then," I took a deep breath, "when Dad died last year, he left the Point house to me."
"Why not your brothers? You have brothers, right?"
"Yes, two. Long story as to why I got the house and they didn't. Another night. Anyway, that's my house. You can come. I promise, no one will find you."
"Are you serious? I know you wanted to be alone…"
I did want to be alone. But I wanted to see him smile more. "Yes. We can drive up there as soon as you're free tomorrow, and I'll get you back here whenever you think its safe to go home."
"Cool! Frank!" He jumped up from the bed, going to pound on the door that joined their rooms.
I laughed. "You do realize that you and Frank are tragically co-dependent, don't you? Note I said 'tragically'. Not 'tragical'. Because 'tragically' would be the correct adverbial form of 'tragic.' "
He laughed. "Whatever, Rache. Where the hell is he?"
He had no idea what I'd just said. Not that I much did. Was 'tragically' an adverb?
What the fuck, he certainly isn't going to be correcting me.
Frank opened the door, just looking at him. "What? Did it occur to you that I might be asleep?"
Nick poked his head into Frank's room. "You're on the computer. I'm going to Rachel's house!"
Frank narrowed his eyes. "When?"
"When we're done tomorrow. She invited me. I'll hide there!"
"No you won't."
That Frank. Say no first, ask questions later.
Nick pouted at him. "Yes I will! Rachel, tell him its fine!"
I got up from my chair. "Can I use your computer? Are you online?"
They both looked at me like I was slightly crazy, but Frank nodded. I sat down in front of it, and they stood behind me, peering over my shoulder. I pulled up Mapblast and put in New York City and my address to get directions.
Frank leaned over me, squinting at the screen. "Looks pretty easy to me."
I tapped the screen, hitting the last few supposed turns to my house. "That street doesn't exist, it was flooded this spring. That one is so not marked, you have to know to turn at the third tree on the right. You can't get from here to there without two extra turns." I looked up at him. "Believe me, Frank. My house is nearly impossible to find. When I have new friends over, I meet them at the main road and lead them back."
He considered me for a moment, looking between the screen and me. I could see the hamster running in his head. If I was right, he might not have to watch over Nick. He might get a break.
"I have to go with you," he finally told me quietly, and Nick moaned.
"No! Goddamnit, no!"
I held up my hand to silence him, still looking up at Frank. "Fine. I have five bedrooms."
Nick was standing behind me, but I heard him stamp his foot and whine. I tried not to laugh.
"But you can't act like a bodyguard the whole time. It's the best place in the world, you're not allowed to roam around complaining about how I don't have a burglar alarm."
"You don't have-?" he started, and I shook my head at him.
"What did I just say? None of that. And I'll bet you 20 bucks that after a day there, you'll be convinced that he is hidden and safe and you will go off and have a lovely vacation."
"That is a bet, ma'am."
We shook hands on it and then he started asking details. "How are we getting there?"
"I'll drive."
"I'll drive," he insisted.
"No fucking way! My fucking car!"
"We will be followed out of the city. As soon as I determine that we're alone, you may drive your darling little car." He smiled down at me and I had to giggle at the thought of hulking Frank driving my cute little convertible.
"And you can't tell anyone he's there."
Standing up, I rolled my eyes at him. "As if. You don't know my family. I cannot hide a fugitive in my house. He will be fine, Frank."
"He'll be better if no one knows he's there."
I looked at the two of them. "There are some places in the world that don't really care that the Backstreet Boys exist. Cutoghue, New York, is one of them. My nieces will care, and I'll tell them not to tell all their little friends."
Frank started to say something, but Nick yawned, and I took his hand. "It's going to be fine, Frank. Let me put the boy to bed. When are you leaving tomorrow?"
"Six thirty," he sighed.
She took my hand, and I would have followed her anywhere. Being pathetic at least got Rachel to fuss over me, so it had some perks.
I yawned again and she laughed, saying goodnight to Frank and leading me back into my room. She yanked back the covers on my bed and motioned me into it. "Beddie bye time."
I laid down, laughing as she pulled the covers up around my chin. This might be the most comfortable hotel bed I'd ever been in. "Are you sure you don't want to join me?"
She sat down on the edge of the bed, stroking my hair. "You are going to be sound asleep in about 20 seconds, what is the fun in that?"
I shut my eyes, I loved it when she played with my hair. "Are you going to tuck me in when we're at your house?"
She just laughed, but didn't stop stroking my hair. She was right, I was going to be asleep in about a minute. "Rache?"
"What, sweetie?"
"Is your house really the best place in the world?"
I could hear the smile in her voice. "I think it is. It has good vibes, I'm always calm and relaxed and happy there." She paused for a moment. "Well, almost always happy there."
I opened one eye to look at her. "Except when your dad died."
She looked at me, nodding. "Except then. But being in his house helped me get over it." She stroked my face. "That's a bedtime story for another night. You need to sleep." Leaning over, she kissed my forehead. "Goodnight, Nick."
If I hadn't
been so tired, I would have pulled her down into my arms. But instead I just
watched her as she turned off the light and left the room.
Chapter
Four:
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3
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