Oreos
for Breakfast - Chapter 10
By
The Paperbag Princess and The Pumpkin
Coach
Page 1 | Page 2 | Page 3 | Page 4 | Page 5
I couldn't watch.
I had to watch.
There was a reporter from Rolling Stone sitting in front of me, but TRL was on behind his head on the TV at the bar, and I couldn't stop watching it. I couldn't hear anything Carson was saying, the sound was turned down, but I could see that it was TRL.
We just premiered yesterday. No fucking way would we be on. It was impossible.
Well… maybe at 10? I kept staring at the TV as they faded into the number ten video… not us.
What did I expect? We were no one. No one had ever heard of us, one plug from Carson was not going to make us suddenly popular. Even if it was a perfect video, and my perfect boyfriend had made me play it for him 20 times last night. Then he'd fucked me senseless, telling me the whole time how amazing I was, how pretty and sexy and how great my band was…
Oh, this wasn't going to last. Things this perfect never lasted.
James kicked me under the table and I looked over at him, nodding as I attempted to concentrate on the interview. Two days of this, L.A. had been all press and that industry show last night and not enough time with Nick. Last night had been rushed, lots of sex and not much sleep.
Fuck sleep, that was amazing sex.
"This record really came out of tragedy, didn't it? Rachel, your father had just passed away, and Jeremy was gone for a while… tell me how you got great pop music out of that."
I blinked at the interviewer for a moment. Todd something. No one had asked that yet. Well, not the part about Dad. Dad was not part of the press pack. The boys were silent, looking at me, and I gathered my thoughts.
"I don't think the world needs to hear the dark music I wrote after my Dad died," I joked lamely. James rubbed my shoulder, smiling at me.
"The lost songs of Rachel Connor, you can release a solo album later."
I smiled at him gratefully, taking his hand under the table. "Is that before or after the 'Behind the Music'?"
"Definitely before, then we can all be bitching about how your stupid solo album outsold anything we ever did, and you're such a Diva Princess now."
I stuck my tongue out at him, then looked back at Todd. "I was depressed, and wrote dozens of songs about it. If you listen to some of the lyrics, they're a little dark."
"Yeah," he agreed, "But they're catchy pop tunes."
I glanced over at Jeremy with a smile. "Talk to Jeremy. He's good with a hook."
"So how did you get back in the band, Jeremy? It was your breakup with Rachel that got you kicked out, wasn't it?"
Surprisingly, Jeremy didn't kill him. "You try being in a band with your ex," he deadpanned. "It's not easy."
"Especially on us!" Darien whined. "They fought constantly…"
"They still fight constantly!" James interjected.
"So is that tension part of how you create?" Todd asked, smiling at our bickering. "This is by far your best work, are all these songs really about how much Rachel and Jeremy argue?"
Jeremy and I exchanged a look and laughed. "Actually," I said, "recording this album was pretty easy. We rented some equipment and set it up in my house on Long Island, and laid down an album in about two weeks. The first one was far more difficult." I knew this one had been easier because all the boys were treating me carefully, knowing I was still upset about Dad, and I was about to explain that to Todd when Darien's quiet voice stopped me.
"Guys," he whispered, and we all looked at him. He pointed to the TV, speechless, and we all turned around to see it.
Oh my god.
That was my band on the screen, with a great big '8' in the corner.
Eight.
We had TRL stats! "Days on countdown: 1. Highest position: 8."
Oh my fucking god.
I caught James' excited eyes and screamed before I could stop myself. "They like us! They really like us!" I joked, and suddenly all four of us were up, dancing around the room, the interview forgotten.
We were number 8!
James called over to the bartender, "That's us! Turn it up! Turn it up!"
The bartender looked at him for a second and I thought James was going to leap over the bar and do it himself, but then the sound went up and my voice was blaring from the TV.
From the TV because we were on TRL!
"Eight! Eight! Eight! Eight!" we chanted, until my sides hurt from laughing.
Finally the video ended and Carson appeared on screen again. I shushed everyone so we could hear what he had to say about us.
"Well, there you have it. We premiered them yesterday as my Pick of the Week and I guess you like them. That's Sudden Silence at number 8. We'll be right back with today's music news."
Jeremy went to the bar and came back with a bottle of tequila and four shot glasses. Half the bottle seemed to be on the table as he filled the glasses quickly and we all grabbed one.
"Do we have to do eight shots, J?" Darien teased as Jeremy raised his glass.
"Dude! Eight of everything all day!" He cleared his throat and we all attempted to be serious for a second, "To the number eight!"
We all did the Count's "ah ah ah" from Sesame Street before downing our shots. I glanced over at Todd and he was scribbling furiously in his notebook. I leaned across the table, looking down at his notes, "Whatcha writing there, Todd?"
He closed his book quickly and grinned up at me, "Nothing to concern yourself about, Rachel. Just taking it all in. You guys are insane, you know that?"
I shrugged and held out my glass to Jeremy, "Again, again, again!" I chanted, in my best Teletubbies voice.
"You aren't seriously doing eight shots, are you?" Todd questioned, his eyes wide.
"It's very rock and roll now, isn't it?" James asked, raising an eyebrow at me and downing his second shot like it was the good stuff, not cheap tequila. It was cheap tequila, right? We couldn't afford the good stuff. We were only number 8 on TRL, not celebrating our first number one.
Oh… but what if that happened? What if the single started to sell and we were on the cover of Rolling Stone and it went to number one?
I nearly screamed at the thought. No… I must drink more and stop these thoughts.
"You joining us?" I cooed at Todd, flipping my hair over my shoulder as the second shot hit my system. Oh, this was fun.
"No. I think one of us has to be sober enough to write things down, don't you?"
"Lola!" I yelled into the phone as AJ hollered for me down the hallway. Shut up, dude! I'm busy. How quickly everything got back to normal.
"Boy toy! What's the honor?" she responded quickly. God, I hope she never called me that in front of the fellas. That'd be embarrassing. I think James had given me the nickname and it kind of stuck.
Not that I minded being Rachel's boy toy. No, I could get used to that. Especially if it meant we got more nights like last night. I tried not to think about it too hard. Why was I calling Lola again? Oh… yeah… TRL!
"Are they with Rolling Stone? Did they see it?"
"What?" she questioned and I could hear her typing on her laptop. She was always working. I don't think our tour manager worked that hard, did he? I never paid attention.
"TRL… they were number 8!"
"You're joking?" she screamed and I had to laugh.
"No! And I called Rachel's cell, but she's got it off."
"They're with Todd, yeah. In the bar. They'll be done around 5. Sound check and then dinner. You coming tonight?"
"Duh!"
"Right. Stupid question. You'd be down in the bar stalking her if I let you."
"Duh!" I echoed. "Lola, I want you to help me."
"Ohhh… are we plotting secret Rachel and Nick things?"
"Something like that. They're number 8, right? Well, I want to do something for her. Something with 8s. I was thinking 8 dozen roses or something. You're a girl… is that stupid?"
She was quiet for a moment. That was stupid, wasn't it? Yeah. I should just hang up. I wasn't good at this romantic stuff. Maybe I'd just fuck her senseless again tonight. That seemed to work well last night.
"Oh, Nicky… that's adorable!" she whispered. "But Rachel doesn't strike me as the flowers kind of girl. Eight dozen? What are you gonna do with them tonight when we drive to Las Vegas?"
"Good point. What then?"
"Magic 8-Ball, dude?" When did AJ come into my room? I looked behind me and he was sitting on the couch, looking up at me. "Eight balloons tied to a Magic 8-Ball or something? That's an 8."
"That's a fabulous 8, Nick! Rachel will love it!"
I grinned at AJ and gave him a thumbs up. When did AJ get good at the romantic stuff? Now where the hell did I get a Magic 8-Ball and how would I get it to Rachel?
Lola read my mind, "There's a toy store a couple blocks from the hotel, Nick. Want me to go over and get it? I can put it in the room, or backstage, so she gets it at sound check."
"Cool! Would you? They're gonna need me down the hall for another management meeting in like 10 seconds."
I could hear her laughing, "Sure. Magic 8-Ball, eight balloons..."
"Bunnies!" I shouted, "If they have bunnies, make them bunnies."
"Okay, now you might be a freak… okay, eight bunny balloons. Anything else?"
"Nah, I'll do the rest when I see her."
"I'm sure you will, Nicky!"
I could barely stand up. Eight shots was so not a good idea. The boys, they were fine. Giddy and happy and drunk, but if I didn't pass out before dinner it was gonna be a miracle. I strapped my guitar on and went over and sat down on Darien's riser. No, I actually fell down, landing with a thud and making Jeremy turn and scowl at me. No way was I was doing this standing up.
I held up a hand and shook my head, "I'm fine, J… just a little … little dizzy."
He couldn't help but laugh. "You are such a lightweight, Rache."
"Am not!" I screamed louder than I expected to and they all laughed at me.
"Oh, this is going to be a long night, I can tell. Think you'll be sobered up by 10, Rache?"
I nodded at James, "I shouldn't have done eight shots when I was only eating pretzels, huh?"
"Hey, there were limes and peanuts, too!" Darien chimed in from behind me. I turned to look at him and my head spun. I grabbed the edge of the riser, feeling like I was going to fall off even though I knew I wasn't really moving.
"Oh, bad idea. D, can you come play out here so I don't have to turn around?"
He responded by banging the bass drum, which was right by my head, hard and I scowled up at him, "You all hate me, don't you? You are trying to kill me."
"It's Rachel, the paranoid drunk!" James laughed into his mic and the rest of them started the first song without me. I half-heartedly played along on every fifth or sixth note until Jeremy glared back at me.
I stood up and held onto my mic, letting J take lead guitar as I sang "Come On." I hoped I was at least approaching the right pitch because there was a loud ringing in my ears.
"Okay, you know I love you all, but that sucked!" Lola laughed when we finished.
"Thanks, we love you, too." Jeremy deadpanned and she stuck her tongue out at him.
"Whose idea was 8 shots apiece?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at Jeremy and putting her hands on her hips for effect.
He tried to look innocent, but there was no fooling Lola. She was like our big sister and Mom all rolled into one. There would be no keeping secrets from her.
"You couldn't have done 8 between you? Like, two each?"
"Never thought of that," Darien responded. "Shit. That makes sense."
"That's the last time we celebrate without Lola! She's the sensible one," I whined, taking off my guitar and placing it carefully on its stand at the back of the stage. "Can I go pass out now?"
Lola smiled, "There's food back there, why don't you eat something and I'll find coffee to sober you up?"
I went off to my dressing room. Did I have time to go back to the hotel? Would Nick be done yet? He said that Kevin was keeping him until the bitter end today because it was their last day of pre-tour meetings for a while. I didn't know if that was because he was coming with me or not. Best not to know too much, right?
I pulled my cell out of my pocket and turned it on. It immediately rang and I smiled. I loved that he called me a million times a day, even when he'd see me that night. I knew I was grinning like an idiot, but I didn't care.
"Rachel Connor, slightly drunk pop star who was number 8 on TRL today," I answered, leaning back against the wall. Just a few more feet to the dressing room, but it seemed like too much at the moment.
"You saw it!" Nick responded, his voice all happy. I loved my boyfriend.
"Yeah. You should have seen it, bunny. We were in the middle of the Rolling Stone interview and he was asking all these good questions. Serious questions. About our music and my dad and I was thinking about recording the album and how sad I was and… and then it came on and we were number 8 and Carson said they must really love us. Oh, bunny. It rocked. I mean, making it was cool and having it premiere was even better. But then people voted for it! People we don't know. Some girl in Iowa picked up her phone and called the little number and said she wanted to hear ME! How fuckin' cool is that? Where are you?"
I couldn't stop laughing. What did they do? Drink the entire rider in one sitting? She was wasted. Good thing I talked AJ out of coming with me. I opened the door quietly and peeked out down the hall. She was leaning against the wall with her eyes closed, not 10 feet from the door. Come on, Rache. Just a few more feet.
"Not far. We got out of our meeting early. Where are you, baby?"
I could see her wrinkle her nose as she looked down the hall in the other direction. "In a hallway," she sighed. "I think my dressing room is here somewhere. God, I love being the only girl sometimes. I just wanna pass out. Well, Lola said I should eat something…"
She rambled on and I saw her push away from the wall, her fingers running along the wall as she made her way carefully down the corridor. I ducked back inside the room and closed the door.
"You have a surprise in your dressing room, Rache. Think you can find the door?"
"Yeah," she giggled and I could hear her through the door now, "It's the one with the big gold star and my name on it. Damn, I'm gonna make them give me my own star at every venue from now on, not just the big ones. No! Maybe I'll make them label it "wanton sex goddess" or something. When do I get to see you, baby? I miss you," she sighed as the door opened.
I didn't move, I just wanted to watch her for a moment. She was so pretty. Her curly hair was all messed up and her clothes were rumpled from doing interviews and then drinking all day. She was wearing a Sudden Silence tour shirt that she'd cut off at the waist so when she moved her arms, you could just see the tattoo around her belly button. I wanted to run my fingers over her stomach and feel her shudder at my touch.
She looked up and shrieked and I nearly dropped my phone.
"Nicky!" she screamed. "Did you do this? There's… there's…"
"Eight dozen bunny balloons, Rache." I stood up and batted a few balloons out of my way and she just stopped, nearly blinding me with her smile. She looked around the room that was filled with Mylar bunny balloons and Magic-8 Balls. As many as the toy store had.
Okay, maybe it was a little excessive. But she had a way of bringing that out in me.
"Nick… it's… so sweet." She looked down and picked up one of the Magic-8 Balls. "And Magic-8 Balls…"
"Get it? Eight's…" I smiled, coming over and wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her into me. "Congratulations, Rache. I'm so proud of you. I have the coolest girlfriend in the world."
She leaned up, running her free hand through my hair and pulling me down to her. Our lips touched and she nearly devoured me, opening her mouth and moaning as my tongue darted out and stroked hers. Finally she pulled back and stumbled slightly.
I caught her, pulling her down onto my lap on the couch. "Oops… I'm a little dizzy, Nick."
"You're a little drunk, Rache. How much did you have?"
"Jeremy made us do eight shots of tequila."
"Each?" I practically screamed, my eyes wide. She laughed at me.
"I can do eight shots, Nick. I'm a big girl."
I shook my head, "No… you are many things, baby, but you are not a big girl. And I'm sure all you had to eat were peanuts, right?"
"No!" She protested, "Pretzels! And limes… Darien made us suck on limes, too. It was a well-rounded meal!"
"You are so silly, baby. You need to eat something."
She nodded slowly, turning in my lap so she was facing me. She ran her fingers through my hair and then down my arms, leaning into me until her lips were against my ear, "You," she whispered before running her hot tongue down my neck, making me moan softly.
"Oh, Rache… baby, that feels so good," I sighed as I pushed my hips up against her. She was right, all day I could feel her body against mine, nearly blushing as I recounted last night in my mind during the boring management meetings. She responded by running her hands up under my T-shirt, her fingernails teasing my nipples as she nipped at my neck.
"That's the idea. Hmm… how should we spend our time here, Nick? Should we join the boys for dinner?"
I shook my head and she giggled, moving away from me slightly and grabbing one of the many Magic-8 Balls off the table and nearly falling off my lap in the process. I grabbed her back and she grinned at me, "Let's see what our fate is, shall we? Should we go eat dinner with the boys, oh wise 8-Ball?"
She winked at me as she shook the 8-Ball, purposefully moving her hips against my growing erection. I reached out for the ball and she clutched it to her chest, turning it over so she could see what it said.
"'Outlook not favorable'. Hmmm… looks like we're not eating dinner, then. What will we do with our time? Did you bring your Gameboy?"
I pulled the 8-Ball out of her hands, shaking my head. "No. We'll have to entertain one another." I kissed her deeply, sliding my tongue inside her mouth and she pulled away with a giggle.
"Ever been so drunk you can't feel your lips?" she asked, leaning her forehead against mine.
"I can feel them, and they're very nice," I smiled, making her giggle again.
"I'll let them know." She slid off my lap, leaning against the back of the couch, but I didn't want to let her go.
"Rache… eight orgasms might be in order."
"Fuck, we should have been ten!" she whined, and I kissed her again, sliding my hands under her shirt.
"I could do that," I promised. Well… maybe. Last night had been pretty amazing, and I think that was only five. Or was it six? I'd lost count.
"Four for you and four for me?" she suggested, and I nodded eagerly. All day all I could think about was last night, how she felt against me, the way she screamed my name when she came, how her skin looked in the flickering candlelight. Right now, she grinned up at me wickedly, pushing me back against the couch and falling to her knees on the floor in front of me.
"Rache…" I pleaded. "Don't, I want…"
She cut me off, unbuttoning my jeans slowly. "Sweetie, you could do whatever you wanted to me right now and it wouldn't work. I am too fucking drunk. However, a blowjob with numb lips is the sort of challenge I enjoy. Bunnies!" she cried, seeing I was wearing the boxers she'd given me.
I cracked up, even as she pulled my jeans and boxers down over my hips. "My girlfriend is a freak."
"That is one of the many reasons you love me, darling," she said, running her hands along my thighs as she bent her head to my cock.
And this is another, I thought, as her lips closed around me firmly, and all I could do was moan. We'd done many things last night, but not this. I hadn't missed it then, but I was enjoying the moment now. Her tongue swirled around me and I buried my fingers in her hair, pulling her head closer to my body. "God, Rache, you feel so good," I whispered and she responded by sucking me harder, making me cry out. My head fell back against the couch and I stopped thinking, just feeling her lips on me.
"Ow!" I yelled as her teeth bit down a little too hard and she let me fall out of her mouth, looking up at me with a laugh.
"Numb lips, sorry." She kissed the spot carefully, flicking at it with her tongue. "Should I go on?" she teased. "Maybe I'm too drunk to do this properly."
"I trust you," I assured her quickly. "Really, it's fine."
Grinning, she ran her tongue over of the length of me, and I groaned, throwing my head back. "God, Rachel," I pleaded, and she took me into her mouth again.
Boys were so easy. They'd let you do anything for a blowjob. I really should not be doing this, I was incredibly drunk and might bite it off, but he didn't care. He was moaning, whispering my name, so I must have been doing something right. I'd given a lot of blowjobs in my life, maybe now it was just instinctual.
I giggled against him and he moaned louder, moving his hips up against me. I loved that sound, sheer desperation, he just wanted to come. I could do that for him, I knew what he liked. I knew he liked it when I used my teeth, only not as much as I did a moment ago.
I giggled to myself again and got the same reaction. Giggling is good? That was a new one.
I slipped a hand around his balls, teasing them lightly, sucking on him harder, and he cried out my name as he came, surprising me a bit. He was closer than I expected, I was too drunk to judge such things properly. I kept him in my mouth until he let go of my head with a shuddering sigh, and then leaned back on my heels to look at him.
Well, I tried to. I fell back with a thump, looking up at him and laughing. He grinned back and my heart melted. He had the most amazing smile, didn't he? "Are you okay, gorgeous?" he asked, leaning forward to stroke my hair. I leaned into his hand, feeling like I could purr.
I loved tequila.
I loved Nick.
I loved giving head. I was really good at it.
"You like it when I giggle."
"What?" he asked.
"I was giggling, when you were in my mouth, and it made you moan really loudly."
"Is that what that was? Why were you giggling, Rachel?" he asked warily, and I giggled again.
"Because I'm fucking trashed, bunny, and I crack myself up sometimes."
He kissed me softly. "You're so adorable when you're trashed. I think I need to catch up."
I pulled away from his hand, shaking my head. "No, I need to sober up. What time is it?"
He glanced around the room for a clock, then took my hand and looked at my watch. Right. I was wearing one. No fucking way would I be able to tell time right now.
"Five after seven."
"Fuck!" I yelled. "We go on in an hour, and I'm trashed!" It was eight, right? Eight was important.
Nick laughed, taking my face in his hands and making me look at him. "Sweetie, you're the headliner now. You go on at ten."
I could feel myself looking at him blankly. "But then what is… oh my god! Nick, our video was at number eight on TRL!"
He was so fighting the urge to laugh at me hysterically, I could see it. "I know. That's why I got you all these presents."
It all came back to me in a rush, the whole day. I'd lost myself for a minute, in him, and I'd liked it there. It was easier there. I leaned my forehead on his knee, taking a deep breath and letting him rub the back of my neck with his strong fingers. "And Rolling Stone is here. And we recorded two songs today. I had a big day, Nicky."
His voice was soft and he leaned over me. "You did, baby. You've got a show to do, and then we have a day off in Vegas. Can you make it through?"
I nodded, relaxing into him. "I'm so glad you're here. You're here for a long time now."
"Yeah. Except for a couple of things, I can be with you until my tour starts up again."
"Good," I sighed. We just stayed like that for a moment, then he kissed the side of my head gently.
"Baby, you need to drink some coffee. If you fall asleep, you're gonna wake up and feel like shit."
"You're right," I whined, forcing myself to move away from him. He pulled up his pants, then held out a hand to me as he stood up. I took it, stumbling into him when he pulled me up.
"Oh, Rache, you are so trashed. C'mon, you need some food and a lot of water." I nodded, snuggling against him.
"Doritos are a food group, aren't they? I want Doritos."
He laughed, leading me towards the door. "Were you doing something besides shots?" he teased, and I wrinkled my nose.
"No. Just tequila. I fucking love tequila, Nick." I tripped over another Magic 8-Ball and started to lean down to pick it up, but he stopped me.
"You won't make it back up if you do that, baby." He picked it up and I grabbed it out of his hands.
"How many of these did you buy?" I asked him, excited.
"A lot," he admitted.
"Can I give some to the boys? And Tsar? And anyone else I see? I bet the nice man from Rolling Stone would like one," I mused. He was going to be out there, wasn't he? What would I have to do to make sure my embarrassing drunkenness wouldn't make it into the article?
"Sure," Nick told me, and went around the room picking up boxes.
Shit. Nick. Rolling Stone. Should we…
He returned to my side, carrying about a dozen Magic 8-Balls.
Fuck it. Let the world know that I was in love with the cutest Backstreet Boy. Fuck my indie cred. Hell, Todd had asked about Nick earlier today. It wasn't like the world didn't know already.
We walked down the hallway to little lounge we had, and I asked the 8-Ball questions as we went.
"Does Nick love me?" "Definitely."
"Does Rachel love her adorable boyfriend Nick?" "Without a doubt."
"Am I trashed?" "Ask again later."
I giggled, shaking the ball again as Nick steered me into the lounge backstage. "Am I trashed?"
"No," it answered, and I tossed it over to James, who was sitting on the couch.
"Take it, it's broken!"
James caught it easily, looking at it oddly for a moment. "It's a Magic 8-Ball, dork!" I yelled at him. "Because we were fucking number 8 on TRfuckingL today! So my adorable boyfriend bought me presents. Magic 8-Balls for everyone!" I announced, running around the room handing them out until Nick's arms were empty. Everyone loved them, even Jeremy grinned at him.
"That's cool, dude. Good present."
"Isn't he the best?" I cooed, trying to put my arm around him. Nick took my hand instead, leading me over to the couch next to James.
"Sit down before you hurt yourself, baby."
"Doritos!" I exclaimed, diving for the bowl on the table in front of me, and Nick giggled.
"You are so wasted, Rache."
"There's real food over there," James informed me. "You should have some."
"I'll get it," Nick offered. "You might hurt yourself with the utensils."
"I am not that drunk," I protested, taking a brief breath from inhaling Doritos. I hadn't really eaten all day, I was hungry.
"Honey, you told me you recorded two songs today. I know that's not true."
"Yes it is!" I whined. "James, tell him, we recorded two songs today!" I tried to hold up two fingers but got distracted by the Doritos again.
James nodded at him. He wasn't any more sober than I was, he just handled it better.
Wait. Maybe that meant he was more sober than me?
"We did two b-sides today. Glazed, baked and ready to slice."
"You did not!" Nick was shocked. Then the first chords of our version of 'Get Another Boyfriend' started, and he whirled around, staring at Jeremy who was standing by the stereo.
"Two. This is one, and-" he skipped to the next track, and 'Three Small Words' started. "This would be two. This would be the opposite of the overproduced boy band sound that you're so familiar with."
"Two new tracks, coming soon to a stereo near you!" Darien said in his announcer's voice, and we all cracked up.
I loved my band.
I loved fucking with my boyfriend's head. He was so amazed at us he didn't even defend himself to Jeremy. As a matter of fact, he went over to Jeremy, asking him to play both tracks, and they ended up talking somewhat civilly about mixing boards.
I leaned my head against James' shoulder, eating Doritos and staring at Nick and Jeremy. "Look," I told him. "They like each other!"
James cracked up. "You are too fucking trashed, Rachel. I'm getting you some coffee."
"What?" I whined. "They're talking."
"One conversation does not make them friends. Just sit here and eat your Doritos, honey, I'm getting you some food." I pouted at his back as he walked away. It wasn't fair that I was little and couldn't handle eight shots the way the boys could. Nick glanced over from his conversation with Jeremy and laughed at me, surely catching the expression on my face.
Jeremy shook his head and pushed Nick over to me, going over to the catering table. Nick sat next to me, stealing some of my Doritos. "What are you pouting about, baby?"
"James said you and Jeremy weren't friends!"
Nick shrugged. "I wouldn't exactly call us that, Rache. Sorry." He grinned, kissing my forehead. "He's just jealous that I have the wanton sex goddess now and he fucked up."
"Damn straight!"
He looked over at Jeremy, fixing a cup of coffee. "He's in a good mood, though."
I shook my head, making myself dizzy. "Don't count on that lasting. He's a moody fuck."
"Yes, I love you, too, darling," Jeremy told me, handing me the cup of coffee. "But I will ignore that, since it is all my fault you're so drunk."
"She didn't have to do the shots, J," James said, putting a plate of food on the table in front of me.
"But that would have fucked with band solidarity!" Darien interjected, coming over to us.
"Yeah, D's right. I had to! Peer pressure and all that!" I defended, feeling a little surrounded. All the boys in my life were very tall. I let the band argue over whether or not Jeremy forced me to get drunk and took a sip of the coffee Jeremy had fixed for me.
"He did it wrong," I whispered to Nick. "Only one sugar. Seven fucking years and he doesn't know how I take my coffee."
Nick gave me such a silly expression of mock outrage that I burst into giggles. "Should I fix it?" he asked.
"No, it's fine. But you get my coffee right."
"Of course I do! I'm the best boyfriend ever."
I grinned at him. "You so totally are.
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