Oreos for Breakfast: Nick BSB Fiction

Oreos for Breakfast - Chapter 15
By The Paperbag Princess and The Pumpkin Coach

I sighed against his chest, tracing one of his tattoos with my fingertip. I had to be in a cab in an hour, I should get out of this bed and shower, not just lie here and breathe him in.

"When do we see each other again?" he asked quietly, and I smiled up at him. He could never keep our schedules straight. He always asked me.

"Um…"

Oh my god. I didn't know. I always knew. It was two days or three days or next week. But our next day off wasn't for another two weeks or something.

Our eyes met, and we rolled out of bed, meeting back at the table next to the windows with our schedules. He flipped through his binder while I clicked through dates on my Palm Pilot.

"I'm off on the 11th," he offered. "But we're traveling from Boston to Toronto."

I shook my head. "I'm in Chicago, three shows and a ton of press. I'm off the 21st. That's my next day off."

Two weeks from now. He had to have a day off before then, right? He could fly out for a night.

"I've got the 16th… another travel day, but I could do that, right?" He looked at me hopefully, and I shook my head.

"You could… but I'm booked solid that day." Interviews, radio, the show.

"Then cancel something!" he yelled, slamming his schedule down on the table.

I jumped, blinking at him for a moment. "What would you like me to cancel? The drive time radio interviews, or the interview with NM fucking E? I don't get to cancel things yet."

"Damnit, Rache! Two weeks? Its gonna be two fucking weeks until I see you again, when we haven't had a solid day together since the tour started up?" He jumped up from his seat, tossing a pillow across the room angrily.

I could only look at him. I knew why he was angry, the exact same reason I couldn't take a deep breath right now. Two weeks felt like forever. Maybe I was just overtired and overwhelmed by everything in my life, but two weeks until I saw him again? Phone calls were never enough, I wanted to hold him in my arms and feel his skin against mine. Until his tour had started up again, it had been a magical summer, we hadn't been apart more than a couple of days at a time before he was up in the balcony at my shows, fucking my brains out every night, making me laugh over my morning coffee and always, always getting my orders right with room service.

I kicked the wall and stubbed my toe, stumbling backwards and screaming "DANG IT!" at the top of my lungs. Rachel giggled and I looked over at her. She was just staring at me, devouring me with her eyes.

I loved the way she looked at me. Lots of people looked at me, every day, but no one else loved me like she did. Sometimes she just looked at me with lust, but other times, like right now, she looked like she was going to melt into the chair with loving me. It cracked her up, the way I cursed. Too many years of my mother always being within shouting distance.

"Did you hurt yourself, sweetie?" Rachel asked, and I went over to her, cupping her face in my hand.

"I'll live. I'm sorry, I'm being a jerk."

She shook her head, blinking back tears. "No. I understand. I …. I can't… " She took a deep breath, composing herself. "Two weeks, Nick. And you're right, it's been since we were on Long Island that we had more than a couple of hours."

I leaned down to kiss her, and as my lips touched hers, she sobbed.

She fell apart, came completely undone. I sat on the floor, pulling her out of her chair and into my arms. She clung to me, sobbing, and my heart broke. It had been such a long night, parties and drinking and then talking about Damon, and now this?

Two weeks. 14 nights of sleeping alone and phone sex that always left me wanting so much more. Even performing every night wasn't as much fun without her in the pit cheering me on.

I loved her band, I was so proud of everything they were accomplishing. When I wasn't working, it was fine. I could be with her and be waiting when she had a few spare moments. But now we would be on opposite sides of the country, grabbing a few hours when we could.

I hated her fucking band. I hated my fucking band. I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and run to the Point house and lock the doors and just be with her. I missed just being with her, sitting on the couch and watching TV, teaching her to play video games, playing cards. We came together, we had sex, one of us left. It wasn't enough. I wanted more than that with her.

After a moment, she caught her breath and just sat there in my arms, trembling. "Can I have a tissue?" she asked quietly, and I unwrapped one arm from around her, fumbling for the box next to the bed.

No luck. Sighing, I let her go, and she stood up, finding the tissues and sitting on the bed, wiping her face. "I hate this, Nick."

"What, baby?" I whispered, sitting next to her, trying not to panic. She's not going to say this isn't worth it. She's not.

"I hate missing you this hard. Is it worth it? I love being with you, I do, but I'm fucking miserable when we're apart. Maybe we need…" Her voice trailed off, and she glanced over at me.

"Need what?" I demanded. Say it! I nearly screamed. If you're gonna break up with me, then say it.

"Is it worth it? Is being together worth being miserable when we're not?"

"Yes!" My voice cracked, and now it was my turn to blink back tears. "It's OK, it's just two weeks, right? We'll be OK, we'll call all the time, and we'll be fine."

He was so scared, I had the ability to scare him with just an odd look. I hated that, I wanted him to believe me when I said that I loved him and would do anything for him.

Not that he didn't scare me when he looked at other girls. He could have anyone. Why would he waste his time on me, when I made him miserable half the time?

I reached up to stroke his face, and the tears spilled out of his eyes. "I'll send you presents every day, I'll call all the time, it'll be fine," he begged, his eyes searching mine.

"Baby, you know I don't need presents, I just need you."

"But I can't do that," he wailed. "I… I…" He started to cry, and I wrapped my arms around him. He wasn't the one that cried. I was the one that fell apart at the drop of a hat.

"I'm sorry, Nicky. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. We're overwrought, sweetheart, we're tired and stressed out and stupid. Of course we'll be fine. I don't know what I was thinking."

I was thinking that maybe it would be better to just end it before we started doing things we'd really regret. This was moving into obsession. I knew all about sexual obsession, and I didn't know how to stop it. I just knew I wanted him with me, all the time. Mine.

But how could I do that, how could I look him in the eye and tell him it was over? That was stupid, I loved him too much to do that, and I knew it would kill him.

Who was I kidding? It would kill me. I wasn't a strong enough woman to give him up. I couldn't believe I'd even said that, after he sat here and let me talk about Damon and didn't judge me one bit for having an abortion. Nick was fucking amazing, how could I even think of giving him up?

He hugged me so tightly I could barely breathe, and I stroked his hair until he calmed down, moving away to find my tissues. "Sorry, Rache," he mumbled, blowing his nose.

"It's okay, sweetie. We're overwrought."

The phone rang and we both jumped. I picked it up, realizing it was my wake-up call. As I hung up, our eyes met. "I have to go."

He just nodded, rubbing at his eyes, and I kissed him. "I love you, Rache."

"I know. I love you, too. I'm gonna take a shower, OK?"

"I'll call Frank, make sure he's up."

"I can…" I started, and he shook his head.

"You know he'd kill me if I didn't let him guard you a little. Besides, I'm going with you."

I wanted to be with her every second I could. I considered going to the airport with her, but Jeremy would kill me.

"But-" she started again, and I stood up, looking for clothes.

"I'm putting you in the cab. Screw the fans. Let them see me kiss you goodbye."

She considered me for the longest moment, finally just nodding and going in to the bathroom. What was that about? I started to follow her, to ask her what was wrong, but stopped myself.

She was right, as usual. We were both overtired and overwrought. I'd put her in a cab and then get some sleep, and later this afternoon I'd be sane again. Two weeks, what was two weeks, really? We'd be fine. I spent time away from all of my other girlfriends, and nothing ever happened. Mandy and I had problems that had little to do with being apart.

Coffee. We needed coffee. I'd order some breakfast while she was in the shower. We were in New York, they had to have good bagels, and she'd like that. Maybe next week when she was back in the land of bad bagels, I'd have some shipped to her.

Was that a stupid present? I didn't even know how to buy her presents. Not real ones. Silly things like her TRL presents were one thing. With any of my other girlfriends, especially Mandy, a nice piece of jewelry could stop any problem. Not Rachel. She teased me about the diamonds I wore. She didn't want them or need them.

She just wanted me, and that was the one thing I couldn't give her.

I rubbed at my eyes, I would not cry again, what a pussy. I never cried, never, but this summer, between AJ and Rachel, it was all I ever did.

I considered myself in the mirror above the sink. He'd just had sex with this? Well, maybe before I cried my eyeliner wasn't running. Jesus, I was a mess. I washed my face and considered my hair. The last time I'd had hair this straight was in high school, a girlfriend and I had stayed up all night ironing it out. I knew as soon as water touched it, it would curl again, curls were already springing up around my face where I'd been sweating.

Purple extensions, they had to go. Or should I keep them in? Could I wash them? Were purple extensions appropriate on a major league talk show?

My stomach twisted, and I had to hold on the sink before I sank to the ground. Leno. My pissant little bar band was going to be on Leno. We were going to do the single and chat, if there was time.

Me. On Leno's couch.

Jesus Christ, no wonder I was freaking out on Nick. I was so scared I couldn't think straight. If we sucked tonight, it was all over. If we were good, we were only going to get bigger. I didn't think I could stand being bigger. I never got to see my boyfriend or my family as it was. Next month we were touring Europe, headlining. I'd be fine if Nick could be there with me. If he was in the audience at Leno, if he was up in the balcony when we took the stage in London, I could do anything. I was never scared when I was with him, he made me feel invincible.

Damnit! The extensions were welded to my curls, I could feel tears in my eyes as I yanked at them. "Nick…" I whined, throwing open the door and finding him in the bedroom.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asked, turning to me with a smile.

"Fix it!" I pouted, pulling at my hair. "I can't get them out, and we're gonna suck on Leno, and I don't wanna go to London!"

I probably shouldn't be laughing, right? But she was naked in front of me, pouting like a little girl, and I hugged her. "You're gonna be great on Leno. Amazing. I know it."

She leaned her forehead against my chest, taking a deep breath. "You're so good for my ego. Can you quit the group and just be my love slave? Aaron can take your place or something."

"I would love nothing more." At that moment, I meant it, too.

With a sigh, she stepped away from me. "Can you try and get these things out of my hair?"

"They're pretty hot, babe."

"Once I shower, I'll have curls again. I think the straight purple with my real curls is gonna look pretty stupid.

"You could start a new fashion craze," I teased, finally making her smile.

"Me? A fashion leader? Kate Sutton would never allow it. Now help me." She bent her head towards me, and I pulled at an extension, making her whine again.

I remembered this. I remembered being so terrified of success that everything was a crisis. For once, I got to be the grown-up. I liked giving her business advice and having her lean on me for support.

The extensions were just twisted onto her real hair, and in five minutes, I'd removed them all, running my fingers through her straight hair for the last time, and leaning down to kiss her. She sighed against my lips and moved away reluctantly. "When you wash it, you'll have curls again?"

"Yeah. Do you like it straight?"

"No. Well, yeah. But you don't look like my Rachel."

Smiling at me, she grabbed one of my t-shirts and disappeared into the bathroom again. I heard the shower start and considered joining her and helping her wash her hair… no, then she'd end up late, and missing her flight, and it would be all my fault.

I called Frank instead. "Yeah?"

"Rachel needs to leave in about half an hour."

"I know," he answered impatiently. "I've been up. Seven a.m., she needs to be in a cab. I'll knock."

"I'm going down with you," I told him, knowing what he'd say.

"No, you're not." Bingo. Got it in one.

"Yes, I am."

"Did you notice how many fans are down there?" he asked wearily.

"That's your job, isn't it? Let me make sure my girl's safely in the cab, Frank."

"I'll do that."

I sighed. "I'm going. Go clear the lobby or whatever you need to do." I hung up on him and looked around the room. Clothes were everywhere, and I started picking them up. That would save her a step, and she could sit for a minute and have coffee with me.

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