Oreos for Breakfast: Nick BSB Fiction

Oreos for Breakfast - Chapter 20

By
The Paperbag Princess & The Pumpkin Coach

He was so pretty. Eyes shut, his hair fell into his face as he moved to the music, every motion perfect. The boy could dance. My heart caught in my throat as I looked at him, and he opened his eyes, catching me. Fuck, I loved that smile. And his pretty blue eyes…

So I kissed him. It took him a minute to realize what I was doing, and then it all fell apart. His tongue did not meet mine. As a matter of fact, I don't think his tongue knew what to do in there. He started to wrap his arms around me, but I pulled away, glaring at him. "Nick lied!"

"What?" he laughed, stumbling as I pushed him into a glowering James.

"Oh, quit glaring at me, James. Nick lied! He's not even bi! He's all fucking yours."

They cracked up, and I just glared at them. Fucking JC. He was so fucking hot, and so fucking gay. Where the hell were the straight boys? We'd been out for hours now. Darien and Jeremy had both scored ages ago, and I couldn't get anyone but the gay boys here to buy me a fucking drink.

Not that they were bad at that. They'd gotten me plenty of drinks. I might regret it later, but right now, it was a good way to end my birthday. It helped me to not think about my stupid asshole ex-boyfriend.

If I was thinking about how I wasn't thinking about him, did that count as thinking about him?

Fuck!

"What time is it?"

"Why do you need to know?" JC pulled me closer, nuzzling my neck, trying to make up for his bad kiss. Not working. Why was this the threesome birthday? It started with Lovelines last night, and every time I turned around, something happened…

Or maybe I was just obsessing on that fucking phone call from Nick last night. Maybe it was all internal, huh?

"Not happening, buddy," James leaned down to JC and me. "Really. Rachel and I share many things, but boys are not one of them."

Thank you, James! Forever my savior.

Sex with James. Ew. That would be like doing my brother. I had to suppress a shudder. Or was that from JC's voice in my ear?

Fuck, why was he gay? So fucking hot.

"Really?" he questioned. "She's hot, James."

I looked at James over JC's shoulder, shaking my head. "He so doesn't mean that."

"I do!" he protested, letting me go just so I could get the full effect of his pout.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Choose."

"What?"

"Me or James?"

He was a bad actor. He couldn't even pretend that I was a close second. Gay, gay and gayer. I dragged them off the dance floor. "Let's go, boys, and get you to bed."

At least I got JC hanging on me while we waited for our car. Had Lola arranged this limo or had it just magically appeared? Most of this evening was very fuzzy… there'd been dinner at some amazing place where we sat outside in the garden… I had fish tacos. Mexican? I didn't remember. It'd been my birthday, so I didn't have to make the dinner decision.

Good thing I ate something sometime. Otherwise I would have passed out hours ago. Tequila was the drink of the evening, so James and JC kept bringing me insane things. Only gay boys knew about mixed drinks. JC was so gay; how did the whole world not know?

Probably because they didn't see him with his tongue down my James' throat like this. Fuck, why didn't he kiss me like that? I kicked them.

"Stop it! No fair, I have to go to bed alone tonight; no getting me hot and bothered."

JC looked over at me, slumping down in his seat with a smile. Oh, he was going to be useless. He looked like I felt. Only he looked really cute with his hair all rumpled, whereas I probably looked a wreck. Hey, JC had curly hair like mine. What did he do to keep it looking so good? Before I could ask him, he asked me a more interesting question. "Does that get girls all hot and bothered? Like boys watching girls together?"

"Darling, there is no way you can convince me that you get off on girls kissing."

"Well, I…" he gave up with a smile, shrugging at me. "OK. Maybe not me. But it is in an awful lot of porn."

"Oh, don't get Rachel started on the porn," James informed him before I could say anything. "It's all about the degradation of women, blah blah blah…"

I stuck my tongue out at him, and JC laughed.

"You should watch gay porn, then. No girls there."

James and I both stared at him as he blushed. That was the closest JC had come to admitting he was gay, at least in my presence. Evidently in James', too, the way he was looking at him. JC looked back at me, going on.

"So, do you like boys kissing?"

I considered it for a moment, and then shrugged. "I like nice boys kissing my James. Because I want him to be happy. But it doesn't really turn me on."

Although Jeremy and I had shared a guy once… okay, that was two different times, yeah… and that was pretty hot. But that was the whole situation, not just the kissing.

James smiled at me and leaned against JC. "Yeah, sorta how I feel when nice boys kiss you."

"Haven't had any of those for a while," I snorted. "Ever, actually."

"I'm telling you! Say the word and Justin is all yours."

Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. "He hardly counts as a nice boy. I need the safe, stable stockbroker who hangs on my every word."

"You'd be bored within a week, darling," James had to tease, and I scowled at him. He was right. I knew he was, but I had to give myself some hope of happiness someday. I knew my penchant for pop stars wasn't going to end in the marriage and babies I wanted. Eventually. I had just turned 27, that was way too young for kids and stuff. I had stuff to do first. Why couldn't I do it with a nice popstar?

I knew it wasn't going to be Nick… but I'd been starting to hope for it. I really thought he adored me. God knows I adored him.

Fuck. James and JC were teasing each other about something, being all cute, and I was over here obsessing on Nick again. I had to stop that. It was over, and I just had to fucking deal with it.

The limo pulled up in front of our hotel, and JC grinned over at me. "Are you taking me up to your room?"

"May we hope that there are photographers lying in wait? Or at least a gossip columnist or two?" I didn't see anyone taking notes as we stumbled through the lobby, but then again, I was a little drunk. James said good night to us loudly in the hallway, and then JC and I fell into my room, giggling.

"Think that'll work?" JC asked, leaning against the door with a smile.

"I bet by this time tomorrow, there will be tales in the rags about how you and Nick fought over me, and you won."

He started to say something, but instead collapsed in laughter. Yeah, JC beating up Nick was a pretty funny idea. Nick could snap him like a twig. If Nick could be bothered to care enough to fight for me, that is was…

"Hey… what's the joke?" James whined, coming into my room through our adjoining door.

"Nothing," I told him, as JC was still helpless with giggles. Fuck, he was cute. "Imaginary headlines."

"Threesome with the gay best friend," James offered, and I gave him the thumbs up.

"Excellent. I like that one. Now take him. Although I am afraid he might be useless in this condition. He's a little drunk."

James looked at him, then at me. "I know what will sober him up."

"My naked body? I am a girl, after all, he doesn't like those."

JC had managed to make it to a chair, and he attempted to pout at me in between giggles. "Do too!"

"Do not!" I fired back, and James shook his head at our bickering.

"I just care that right now you like me, darling. But first I need cookies to sober you up. Where are the cookies, Rachel?"

Damn! Mom's cookies! I hid them, right? They were all mine! "What cookies?" I asked innocently, but I probably ruined it by scanning the room. James saw the tin at the same time I did.

"The birthday cookies!" he cried, lunging for them. Damn long arms. He got them before I could. "Oatmeal raisin, ick."

James didn't like raisins. Good! "They are my birthday cookies!" I whined, jumping for them when he held them out of reach. "You don't even like raisins!"

"Which is why your mom sends me chocolate chip on my birthday, yes."

I think JC said "Chocolate chip?" hopefully behind us, but James didn't pay attention, lifting out the bag of cookies.

"But she always sends snickerdoodles, too!"

"Snickerdoodles!" JC exclaimed, falling into giggles again.

Oh, fuck, he was adorable when he couldn't stop laughing.

I had snickerdoodles? I hadn't even looked at what was under the oatmeal raisin cookies. James caught my perplexed expression and handed me a cookie. "C'mon, Rache, she always sends two kinds."

"Mom rocks," I asserted as James gave JC a cookie. He was attempting to stop laughing, wiping tears from his face.

"She does," James agreed. "And I'll just steal a couple, in hopes that the sugar will sober him up a little."

Did sugar sober you up? How did I not know that? Or was James making things up again? JC managed a bite and looked at the cookie with such an expression of disappointment on his face that James and I both cracked up. "You said chocolate chip!" JC whined.

"I get chocolate chip on my birthday," James corrected.

"Chocolate chip is so overdone," I said, shaking my head. "And I like the raw batter better."

JC nodded. "Totally. What the hell is a snickerdoodle, anyway?"

Somehow we managed to discuss cookies for 15 minutes and JC only had a giggling fit twice. Finally, James led him from my room. The door shut behind them, and it was way too quiet. I flicked on the TV for some noise. I was too wound up to sleep yet. Might be from all the sugar.

Nothing, nothing and more nothing… and Backstreet on some VH-1 special about pop music. Fuck.

Nick was supposed to be here with me. He'd told me he had all these great plans, surprises to make my birthday special. That was just a couple of days ago, and now he hadn't even called.

Shouldn't he at least call? I wasn't going to talk to him, but I would have appreciated the effort! He could have at least called to wish me a happy fucking birthday.

Bastard. Yeah, he adored me plenty when I was right in front of him, but three days apart and he was fucking someone else. What the hell was I thinking, getting involved with a spoiled baby of a pop star?

The phone rang, and I jumped about a mile. It was my room phone, and I just looked at it for a moment. I wasn't sure where my cell was… maybe Nick was trying to wish me a happy birthday? "Hello?" I answered.

"What are you wearing?" Darien attempted heavy breathing, but fell into giggles instead. And I think I heard Jeremy back there, too.

"You immature idiots. Bother James, he's getting some."

I slammed down the phone, but 30 seconds later, it rang again. "Is your refrigerator running?" Jeremy this time. I couldn't believe they found this amusing. Actually, I could believe it, because they loved to torture me.

I hung up, then called the front desk and told them to put a do not disturb on my phone. I was definitely not in the mood for my stupid band tonight. I just wanted… I didn't know what I wanted.

Yes, I did. Nick. I wanted Nick to be here, like he was supposed to be.

I clicked off the TV and stalked into the bedroom. I needed a shower. Maybe a hot bath to relax me so that I could get some sleep. Sleep had been elusive since I'd left Nick. Every night I'd just lie there and think about him, tossing and turning.

I flicked on the light and stopped dead in my tracks. I did not leave that bunny on my bed. Even the bear that I slept with every night when Nick wasn't with me was still on the bus. Carefully, I sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the bunny. It was gorgeous, blond and floppy, just like my Nick.

It had to be from him. There was a small wrapped present resting on the bunny and an envelope, "Ms. Connor" typed on it.

He remembered? He hadn't fucking called, but he'd sent presents? That was just evil.

I just stared at them for a moment, then reached for the box. I couldn't read the letter. It might not be what I expected, it might be the 'it was fun and I'll miss you, but…' letter. Not yet.

No way he wrapped this box. It was too artfully done. This was a hotel trick. I lifted off the lid and heard myself gasp. Shit. He was so fucking good at presents.

I lifted the gift out and held it by the string, letting it sway slightly and catch the light. It was a deva, one of the little glittery fairies we'd gotten for the girls in Ottawa. When did he get this? He must have special ordered it, because this one had dark curly hair and a guitar across her chest, and I certainly would have bought that one myself if I had seen it.

Suddenly she was blurry, and I blinked back tears. No. I wasn't going to cry over this. He did not deserve my tears. I wasn't going to cry over another boy cheating on me and breaking my heart. I should have been smarter than to get involved with him in the first place.

I put the deva back in her box and stood up, shedding my clothes and going into the bathroom. I needed a shower to clear my head. Then maybe I'd read his letter. I'd be rational and calm… maybe I needed some coffee, too.

Half an hour later, I sat down on the couch with a cup of tea and the letter. I could do this. I would be fine. I pulled out a typed note… typed? Nick?

Ms. Connor-

Mr. Carter arranged for these gifts to be delivered to your room early in the morning on September 24th. However, there must have been some miscommunication and we were under the impression it was to be the 25th. We discovered our error this evening and immediately took care of it.

Please accept our apologies. We do hope that you had an enjoyable birthday. Please enjoy a dinner either in our restaurant or room service with our compliments.

The Management

Fuck. It wasn't even from him! I'd just spent half a fucking hour psyching myself up, and the letter wasn't from Nick.

I balled it up, tossing it at the far wall, and it missed by a mile. Fine, the fucking hotel could clean it up, since they ruined my fucking birthday.

The hotel ruined your birthday, Rachel?

Nick ruined it, days ago. I'd tried to have fun, yesterday, and there'd been a few moments where I forgot about him, but in the back of my mind, all day, I'd been thinking that he should have been here with me. If I had just paid a little more attention to him last week, he'd be here right this second. We'd be making love or sleeping or sitting here watching stupid late night TV. Or we'd be lying in the dark, talking about our lives and he'd be telling me what to do with all my new money and fame and…

Fuck, I missed him. Suddenly I couldn't breathe and everything hurt, especially my heart. Why wasn't he here? Why hadn't he even called? These presents were just leftovers from when we were together. If he'd even thought about me once since I walked out of that hotel, he would have called and cancelled them. But I didn't even rate that. I was forgotten.

I must have cried myself to sleep because the next thing I knew I felt James sitting on my bed. The bunny that Nick had given me was still in my arms and the pillow was wet from my tears. I felt like I'd been crying for days and I still didn't want to stop.

"Aw, Rache…" James whispered, and I threw myself into his arms. James was here. It would be better now. Just as soon as I could catch my breath, it would be better. He'd hold me together while I stopped crying' he was so good at that. I'd done this so many fucking times over Jeremy. Why was I so stupid? Why had I let Nick into my life and set myself up for this shit again?

Because I couldn't stop myself. I loved him too much, his blue eyes and his adorable little giggle and the way he could talk to me on the phone for hours about nothing. And I'd thought he loved me back. I'd really thought it was true, and then he…

I dissolved into hysterics again, only this time James was there, whispering to me and rubbing my back. "Shh, baby, shh. It's okay. Take a deep breath and calm down."

After a minute, I managed half a breath, quieting myself a little.

"This is about Nick, right?" James asked, the worry evident in his voice, and I nodded against his shoulder. What? It was going to be about anything else? Fate was going to add something else to fuck up my birthday?

"Alright, then. You made it three whole days without falling apart. I'm impressed."

There was a reason I couldn't let myself fall apart. I'd known that when I did I'd just shatter, and here I was. I hadn't let myself really think about it, because it just hurt too damn much. How could he do that to me?

"I'm a horrible girlfriend," I whispered against James' chest, and he moved away, looking down at me.

"What?"

"I'm a horrible girlfriend!" I repeated, reaching for the tissues. "I never called him back; I broke our phone date. I suck. I never do anything sweet for him, and look at everything he's given me!" I held up the bunny, soggy now from all my tears, and thrust it at James. "He got me birthday presents, and he had other stuff planned, I know he did. He is so good that way. He chartered a plane to take me home for one lousy day and he hates to fly! He did all this stuff for me, and I never did shit for him. No wonder he slept with that girl. I don't blame him!"

James grabbed my shoulders, making me look at him. "I do. Stop it, Rache, you're just feeling sorry for yourself now. You're a great girlfriend, and you don't deserve whatever it was that he did to you. Which, I should remind you, I don't know the details of, because you wouldn't tell me."

I blew my nose and considered him. That was so weird. James always knew everything about me. But if I hadn't let myself even think about it, how was I going to tell James? I wished I just download what was in my head to him so that I wouldn't have to think about it. That would be nice… maybe I could remove it from my memory permanently. Luckily I didn't remember much of last night… coming back here and being bored and finding the presents and now James was here…

I looked at him again. He was in a T-shirt and boxers, his hair sticking straight up like he'd just rolled out of bed. Hey… how did he get here?

"Where's JC? What time is it? How did you get here?"

"If I tell you, will you tell me what happened with Nick?"

I nodded, reaching for another tissue.

"JC is probably in the other room waiting for the breakfast I told him to order. And it's… just after nine."

What time had we come back? When had I started crying? There'd been presents and a letter not from Nick and then it'd all fallen apart from there. Certainly all the alcohol I'd had earlier in the evening hadn't helped. Wait.

"Why is JC…?" Shit, did he see me like this? James read my mind and leaned over, smoothing down my hair with a smile.

"He was going out through your room, to make it look good, and heard you. So he came and got me. And then I..." There was a knock at the door and he smiled. "And I asked him to order breakfast. You at least need some coffee. I'll be right back."

He started to leave the room, but I grabbed him back. "Wait until the guy leaves. If he sees you, we'll get all sorts of threesome rumors."

There were the fucking threesomes again! I could not get away!

"Know why Nick called me Sunday night?" I asked him, and James shook his head, looking down at me. "He fucked Jasmine in Minneapolis." I went on at James' blank look. "The redhead Jeremy and I slept with. Evidently she says 'hi'."

James could only blink at me for a moment. "Let me guess. You never mentioned that bit of your sexual history to him."

"Well, no," I admitted. "But it wasn't really important. We never discussed each of our past lovers in detail or anything. But all this, and he doesn't call to say he's sorry, he calls to tell me I'm a slut!"

"That little..." James started, and I shook my head, falling over on the bed.

"He's right. I am. I so am. I had horrible sex with an investment banker the other night, and I can't believe you haven't figured out why I didn't want a massage yesterday."

I couldn't see him, since I was staring up at the ceiling, but could just imagine his face. "Oh… the poolside massage on Friday?"

"Yeah," I sighed.

"That is fabulously rock star, Rachel. I am very impressed. Was he hot?"

Damn James could always make me smile. "Yes. He was very… kind."

"What was his name?"

"Daniel."

"Oh, fuck you. Are there no gay massage therapists in the world? I so thought he was coming on to me, but no, he was probably just hoping for gossip about you. I'm getting our breakfast." He huffed out of the room, and I giggled in spite of myself.

Thank god James had found me. Or JC had found me and got James. That was a good thing to do. How many times was this now for James and JC? Was this turning into a relationship? That would be okay. JC was goofy and sweet, and James deserved good things.

But maybe he was like all boy banders, and he was just going to use James when it was convenient, and then go off and sleep with whatever groupie crossed his path that evening, and never even call to apologize. Bastard.

I rolled over, trying to not burst into tears again. I was exhausted. And we had a fucking show tonight. San Francisco, we had to be leaving soon. Fuck, I needed to pack…

James came back in, wheeling a room service cart, but I barely glanced up. "What time are we leaving?"

He shrugged, uncovering platters. "Eleven? I don't remember. It's still early. We have time. Ooh, pancakes!"

I sat up, ignoring the food he tried to offer me. "I still have to pack."

He set a cup of coffee on the bedside table next to me and shook his head. "Whatever. You will tell me what happened with Nick, or I will refuse to play tonight, and I'll ruin all our lives."

"Bass players are a dime a dozen, baby."

He tossed a napkin at me, but I could tell he was pleased that I'd made a joke. "But not gay ones. You know I'm our biggest selling point."

"JC seems to think so…" I attempted, but he shook his head, sitting down on the bed with me.

"Not gonna work. I had a lovely evening, and I will give you the details after you tell me about Nick."

Sighing, I reached for a bagel. Fucking left coast bagels. Rolls with holes. But I couldn't stomach anything more. "Fine. I know it's been driving you insane…"

It took me an hour, and a box of tissues, but I managed to tell James everything. Surprising Nick, our romantic dinner, then seeing that girl hanging all over him and that fucking guilty expression on his face. And since then, nothing. He hadn't tried to call or email or write or anything. That was what hurt the most, that was what made my heart ache. How could he not try to apologize?

"This isn't your fault," James told me.

"Yeah," I agreed, getting off the bed to start packing my stuff. "I know. But..."

James stopped me. "No buts, Rachel. You haven't been the perfect girlfriend the last couple of weeks, but you didn't deserve this. If he was having problems, he should have told you."

"Yeah… but I barely returned his calls. When was he supposed to tell me?"

He just raised an eyebrow at me. "It was a couple of days. If fucking some groupie was a way to get your attention, I can think of a million other ways to do that. No, Rache, he was a shit."

A banging at the door interrupted his lecture, and we both looked at one another. "Rachel!" Lola yelled, and I went to open the door. She fell inside as I opened it, straightening up with a glare.

"Why do you have a 'do not disturb' on your phone?"

"Because Jeremy and Darien were crank calling me last night, like the immature idiots they often are."

"Well, take it off, we're leaving in an hour!"

"Yes, ma'am," I answered, and she took a closer look at me.

"Are you okay?"

I just shrugged. I didn't want to tell the whole story again.

"Bad night," James offered, and she glared at him.

"This is where you are! Go pack, we have to leave soon!"

She had to tell us that a few more times before we got her out of the room, but finally she left us alone to get ready. "Are you okay?" James asked, and I shrugged.

"I'll be fine. I need a shower. That'll clear my head."

He considered me for a moment, and then he pulled me into a hug. "You'll be okay, honey."

"I know," I whispered, burying my head in his chest. "But right now, it really hurts."

He didn't say anything, just held me tighter, and we stood there for a moment. I didn't want to move. I just wanted to stay here and cry on James' shoulder some more. I didn't want to pack up all my stuff and get on that fucking bus and drive for hours to do another show tonight. I just wanted to stop. I wanted to go home and have my mom do my laundry and bake me some cookies.

"We've got to pack," he finally said, letting me go, and I just nodded. "I'll tell the guys to leave you alone, and we'll give you some space on the bus, okay?"

I only nodded again, and he tipped up my chin, kissing my forehead. "I'm going to kill the little bastard if I ever see him again."

"Good," I agreed, making him smile.

"Shower. You'll feel better. I'll leave the door open, just come in if you need anything."

What would I need? I could shower and pack by myself. As much as I was loathe to move, the familiar routine of packing at least gave me something else to think about, and 45 minutes later, I was ready to go. I had the books my brothers had given me and CDs for my Walkman, I was ready to find a corner of the bus and ignore the boys.

Phone… I was charging it, where did I leave it? I found it by the TV and it beeped as I unplugged it. Messages? Didn't I talk to everyone in my family last night?

Oh, Em, wishing me happy birthday. She was so good. Maybe I'd call her when I was less fragile and tell her all about Nick… she was good at that broken heart stuff.

And… shit.

"Ummm… hi, Rache, it's Nick. I'm… I'm sorry about the message last night. Can we just forget that? I was a little drunk and a lot stupid. Umm… well, I'm… guess I'm calling to wish you a happy birthday. I know you're probably off having a great time and… well, I'm here on my bus making this fuckin' long trip from Minneapolis to Calgary. 30 hours or something insane. Anyhow… you called last night and… I know you're pissed and you have every right. But… you didn't let me apologize and… Rachel, I'm so sorry. Really, baby. If you call me back… please call me back and let me explain, okay? I miss you, and… fuck. I know you probably don't care, but I do. I miss you, and I love you so much. Hope you're having a great birthday, buttercup."

He'd called? I'd spent all last night in hysterics because he hadn't even tried to call, and he'd called? Why hadn't I checked my messages?

Fuck that. It'd still taken him two days, three, to even try!

But he sounded so… scared in the message. Like he was afraid I wouldn't call back. I listened to it again. Yes. Nervous. Worried. Maybe just tired and bored, but…

He answered on the second ring. "Rachel? Hey, buttercup."

Oh god. Sleepy Nick. Shit. What could I… what was I doing? I couldn't talk to him. He sounded so sweet and hopeful, I would be apologizing to him within a minute. I could not do that. Not allowed. Definitely not allowed.

I hung up, then powered off the phone and went into James' room. "Take it!" I insisted. "I am not responsible enough for the phone!"

"What?" he asked, looking at the phone as I tossed it on his bed. "Oh… don't tell me you called him! You were good a minute ago!"

"I know… but he left this sweet little message last night, and… then he sounded so wonderful when he answered…"

"He answered? Did you hang up?"

I nodded reluctantly, and he sighed, picking up the phone and hitting the power button. It immediately began to ring. "That is so junior high, Rache. Now he's gonna go crazy calling back."

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