Oreos for Breakfast: Nick BSB Fiction

Oreos for Breakfast - Chapter 22

By
The Paperbag Princess & The Pumpkin Coach

"Nicky!"

I heard Rachel scream from the bedroom, and I stopped dead in my tracks. What was I doing? Oh, water. She'd said we needed to start drinking water. Why not vodka? Those vodka and cranberries at the party had tasted like Kool-Aid. That was good. She was right, though. We needed to sober up a bit. We had to be on a plane in… oh, hell. I didn't know how long. Soonish. I knew that much. So she was packing, and I was…

What the hell was I doing again?

"Nicky!"

She screamed again, and I grabbed the water bottle and found her in the bedroom. I doubled over giggling as I took in the sight of her: she was sitting on the floor surrounded by clothes and shoes and… was that a bra hanging from the lamp? How the hell did that get there? She was usually so tidy.

"Rache, what are you doing?"

"Packing, Nick! What the hell does it look like?"

She wasn't serious, was she? She was too fucking drunk to be doing anything but… drinking more. Wait, we were supposed to be sobering up, weren't we? We'd started at Roscoe's. Mmmmm… fried chicken and waffles… man, that was good. But then we'd had the limo on the way home, and the boys had all been drinking, so we'd joined in. So much for sobering up!

Rachel's voice snapped me out of my thoughts, "Quit laughing at me!"

She was scowling, but I just couldn't stop laughing at her. She rolled onto her knees and started rummaging through the things on the floor, tossing shoes and t-shirts off of one pile and into another one.

"Buttercup, Lola said she'd pack everything and make sure it got home. Just get a few things to take with you to Vancouver."

That made sense, right? Lola wasn't leaving until tomorrow night, or was that tonight? I looked over at the clock by the bed. Did that really say it was 5 a.m.? Shit. We had to be on a plane soon, didn't we?

"I know! But all my clothes are dirty! And Vancouver is cold! I don't have a coat. And I don't like any of my clothes, anyway." She pouted up at me, holding up a white shirt that was missing all of its buttons. "But this one! I love this one, Nicky. But it's broked!"

I couldn't help giggling at her. I remembered that shirt. That was her Kate Sutton that Em gave her. I remembered when it'd had buttons, too. And I distinctly recalled popping them all off one night after her show when we were feeling a bit impatient.

"We'll fix it, buttercup. But… it just might get broken again."

I raised an eyebrow at her, and she smiled. She threw the white shirt on one of the piles. Was that the 'packing' pile or the 'not packing' pile? I couldn't tell. Each pile had a lot of stuff in it. She considered the piles with me and then groaned, looking up at me with the biggest pout on her face.

Damn, she was too cute.

I loved Rachel drunk and pouting up at me like an overgrown 12-year-old. I joined her on the floor without thinking about it and kissed her. She pulled me closer to her as my tongue coaxed her mouth open, and I groaned as her tongue found mine, strong and soft and… damn, she was sweet. Suddenly she grabbed my ass, and we lost what little balance we had, falling over onto the pile of clothes next to us.

"Oww!" I think that was a high heel in my back. Fuck.

"Oh, Nicky… did I hurt you?"

"No," I laughed rolling over and trying to find the offending shoe. "Your shoe did!"

She grabbed the shoe from my hand and threw it behind her. "Bad shoe!" She giggled, nearly attacking me again. We both stopped when we heard a crash and then the room went dark.

"Oops… did I do that?" she giggled against my lips. I loved that sound. I rolled her onto her back, cupping her face in my hands and kissing her thoroughly. Finally I pulled away to breathe, lying on my back. Man, my head felt funny. Suddenly her face was in front of me as she straddled my hips, leaning down to kiss me again.

"Mmm… you taste good, bunny. Sweet."

I couldn't respond because her tongue was in my mouth again. Oh hell, who wanted to talk anyway? She was pulling at my pants, and I laughed, grabbing her hands to stop her.

"Works better if you undo them first, baby," I smiled, popping the buttons slowly as she pushed my shirt up so she could run her hands over my stomach. It tickled a bit and I squirmed, but she wouldn't let me up.

"I'll remember that next time," she breathed, leaning down to lick my belly button before running her tongue lower. She squirmed back on my legs, pulling my jeans and boxers over my hips, and my cock sprang to attention. She licked the head, and I just groaned, loving the feel of her lips and tongue and warm breath on me… Damn.

She giggled against me, and I pushed my hips up, but she moved away, "Numb lips, baby."

Fuck! She couldn't be that drunk, could she? I wasn't… I raised my head to look down my body at her, and I had to laugh. Yeah, we were probably that drunk. I pulled her back up to me and held her close, sighing as she sucked hungrily on my neck, her hands running over the soft fabric of my shirt.

"I love you in this, baby," she moaned as I found the hem of her skirt and lifted it up, revealing a pair of black silk panties. "It's so soft…"

"You, too," I cooed, kissing her again as I ran my fingers over the soft fabric, feeling how wet she was. She moaned loudly, rubbing herself against my hand.

"Oh, damn… fuck… Nick, don't…"

I had no idea what she was trying to tell me. I felt her wetness through her panties and slipped my fingers around the elastic until I found my target. She groaned into my neck and then bit me playfully as I pushed two fingers inside her, my thumb finding her clit at the same time.

"You're so fucking wet, Rache. You feel so good, baby…"

She groaned again moving her hips against my hand. "Fuck, Nick. I can't… numb…"

I captured her lips with mine and swallowed her moan as I rubbed her roughly. She was so hot and wet that I knew I'd have her coming in a minute. Then we could sober up… but right now, I just needed her.

Needed what?

Tonight had been so weird. She'd been angry in the car, but then she'd wanted to come with me to Vancouver, and the rest of the party had been okay. Roscoe's had been cool, and the rest of her band had been really great. It'd only been tense for a few minutes when James had made some comment about a girl at the show who'd been wearing an "I fucked a Backstreet Boy" T-shirt. Rachel'd glared at me and mumbled, "Who hasn't?"

I just wanted to feel close to her again, prove to her that I loved her. I knew what she needed. I could make her feel good again. And this is how I would prove that? Fucking her on the floor, rolling around on her dirty clothes?

She moaned against me again and then slid away from me, coming to rest on the carpet beside me. What the hell? She was drunk and giddy and most definitely horny! What was she doing?

"No use, Nicky, I'm way too drunk for this. So are you."

I leaned back over her and pinched her nipple through her flimsy dress, "C'mon Rache, I know I can make you feel good, baby. Just give it a second?"

I laughed, remembering that time on my bus when we'd had sex while James and Frank played cards in the front. She'd said her lips were numb and she couldn't get off, but I'd done it then.

Why was he laughing? Was he laughing at me? The little fuck… Was I some fucking conquest? He just had to get me off? Just like last night, he was going to fuck me on the floor?

Or maybe I'd started it this time.

I sat up and he tried to stop giggling, but he was hopeless. Maybe he was just trashed. Wasn't something supposed to sober us up?

"Water!"

I saw the water bottle on the floor by the bed and scrambled to my knees, crawling over him to the bottle.

I'd barely gotten the cap off before he had me pinned down again. He held my hands above my head and leaned his head down, sucking on my neck and nibbling on my ear. "No fair, Rache, you have to share." He sat up and brought the bottle to his lips, taking a long drink before tilting it for me to take a sip.

The water hit my lips and I sputtered up at him. The fuck! I was on my back and could barely breathe because he was on top of me! How the hell was I supposed to drink?

I pushed him hard and he fell off with a thud, and I sat up, taking the bottle from him angrily. "Stoppit! I have to pack, Nick! And you need to sober up!"

"I need to sober up?" He looked up at me with such a 'what the fuck' expression that I had to stifle a laugh. "Me? You're the one who was drowning in clothes a second ago! Lola said she'd pack your stuff up!"

"Well… she won't pack right!"

That's what I was doing, right? Packing… yeah. Because we were going to Vancouver and it was cold there.

I looked around the floor again, and all I saw were t-shirts and shorts.

"I need sweaters and a coat!"

He laughed, "It's September, Rache. We aren't going skiing!" He took a deep breath and started to giggle again, and I hit him… perhaps harder than I intended to. "Stop it! Don't laugh at me one more fucking time or I'm not coming!"

That shut him up. He leaned back against the bed and pulled up his pants, buttoning them quickly. "Sorry…" he mumbled, suddenly contrite.

We were quiet for a second. Good. I could think now that it was quiet.

But I couldn't fucking see.

"Turn on the light, Nick."

"Can't."

Oh, right. There was a shoe and… fuck. I broke the lamp? I scrambled to my feet and turned on the lamp on the desk. That was better. I could see now.

I could see Nick on the floor, picking up t-shirts and folding them for me.

How sweet was that?

She was quiet, so I looked up to find her just standing there, swaying a bit, as she stared at me.

"What?"

"You are so sweet, Nicky. I'm sorry I yelled. And I hit you…"

Oh God, here we go. Her bottom lip trembled as she watched me. She knelt down to kiss me, but I pulled away. We were two seconds from overwrought. I obviously had to be the adult here. I took a deep breath and put my hands on her shoulders, guiding her back against the bed as she sat down.

"Rache, we need to get you packed and me packed and then get a car to the airport." She nodded up at me, and I could see her eyes starting to fill with tears. Oh, fuck. If she started crying, this was all over, wasn't it?

I'd fucking done it again. Sex on the goddamned floor! It hadn't even been sex really. I'd just wanted to get her off to what… prove that I could? Just this afternoon, hadn't I decided I wouldn't do that again - use sex to make everything better? That never fucking worked!

I shook my head, trying to clear it. Maybe we needed more water and snacks. Obviously the shots in the limo had counteracted the food at Roscoe's. And the fooling around and emotion was just compounding everything.

"Stay here, Rache. I'll be right back." She bit her bottom lip and nodded at me, but she didn't move. She was listening to me? That was weird.

I scrambled to my feet and found more water in the mini-bar along with… Oreos! She liked those. And Doritos, too. Score!

"I have provisions, buttercup!" I announced as I came back into the room. She was still leaning against the bed, smiling up at me. Okay, that was weird.

"Oreos!" she exclaimed as I handed her the cookies.

"Yeah. Your favorite. Eat these and drink some more water. I'll pack you some clothes, and then we'll buy more when we get to Canada, baby."

"Buy more?"

"Yeah. You're a rich woman now! We can buy you some new clothes."

"Good, because I hate all my clothes, bunny. They're dirty, and I've been wearing them for months!"

I picked up her "Boys Lie" T-shirt and considered it. That was definitely not coming with her! But… I scrambled to my feet, looking in her closet. Where was it? "What are you looking for, baby?" she asked, and I turned to look at her.

"Where's the leather jacket I got you?"

"Oh!" she cried. "It's cold enough. Actually, Darien wore his the other day, and I got really mad and made him take it off. He was totally pissed at me. I should tell him he can wear it now, huh?" She reached for the phone, and I stopped her. Darien was probably sound asleep, if he was smart.

"Where is it, buttercup?"

"On the bus, I think."

"Do you have any other clothes on the bus that you might want?"

She considered me for a second, and then shook her head. "No. Just the jacket. And Thor! Can I take Thor?"

"You can take whatever you want, baby. I'll call Lola and tell her to get your stuff, okay?" Lola was still up. She had to be. She'd promised she'd get us to the airport. I didn't care. If Rachel wanted something, I was going to get it for her!

What was that ringing? I squinted against the light and felt my head spin as I tried to move. Oh fuck. It all came crashing back to me as I sat up… partying with the band after our LA show and then deciding that we should drink as much as we could so we wouldn't sleep since we had an early flight anyway. Then there was something about packing and… had Lola packed my clothes?

I looked over to the closet, and there was my small suitcase and backpack. The closet doors were closed, but I had the distinct feeling that if I could get over there without throwing up, I would find all my clothes hanging up neatly. I had a vague recollection of someone unpacking them for me. Nick? No, not Nick.

Frank?

Shit. Frank had met us at the airport, hadn't he? I was just so tired. We shouldn't have slept on the plane, and I definitely shouldn't have slept when we got here. What time was it, anyway?

I picked up the phone, relieved when the infernal ringing stopped. "Hello?"

Damn, was that my voice? I sounded like an 80-year-old woman with half a lung.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Connor. This is Sven, the concierge. Mr. Carter has arranged for lunch in your suite along with an in-room massage. Or if you prefer we can arrange a private room for you at our spa."

Mr. Carter what?

My brain obviously wasn't working fast enough because the nice man on the other end of the phone cleared his throat and started his little speech again. Oh, shit. Nick had arranged for me to have a spa thingie? Where was he?

I looked over at the other side of the bed, and it was still made. I vaguely remembered getting to the hotel and being so tired all I wanted to do was sleep for a week. Nick had just smiled and tucked me in, kissing my forehead and telling me he loved me.

Nick loved me! Even after how I'd treated him the other night and yesterday. After I'd made him grovel and everything… he still loved me.

I felt that familiar tightness in my chest, and I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm as I felt my heart race.

"Sven… thank you for calling. Sorry, I just woke up. Can you give me a moment?"

"Certainly. Would it be okay if I send Greta up in an hour with lunch?"

Greta? Did Nick take me to Sweden instead of Vancouver?

That's it… I felt like hell because he'd drugged me so he could kidnap me!

I tried not to laugh as I thanked Sven for his help. Okay, I had an hour to move off this bed and take a shower. Instead of moving, I buried my head under the covers and closed my eyes. What was that smell? Oh, fuck… a shower was definitely in order. Nick had kissed this last night? Had I showered after the show?

Thinking back that far made my head hurt. I needed a million aspirin and a case of water.

I stepped out of the shower 20 minutes later and the phone was ringing again. This time it was the cell, though.

"Rachel Connor," I answered, trying to secure the towel around my body and hold the phone at the same time. Please don't be Lola or James, even. Fuck. I should have just let it ring, huh?

"Rachel! You never tell me what's happening in your life! I had to find out about Nick from Kate Sutton of all fucking people!"

I had to laugh as Em's annoyed voice filled my head. I hadn't called Em yet, had I? Not that I'd called many people this week - well, except for my mom. Shit! I should probably call her and let her know I wasn't coming home today, huh?

"Find out what about Nick?" I asked slowly. What the hell had Nick been talking to Kate about?

Jealous much, Rache? Damn, Kate Sutton was way too old for Nick. They were just friends, right?

"That you were broken up but not anymore! What the hell is going on there, dear?"

I fell back on the bed. Whoa… not smart. My head was still killing me. Hopefully aspirin would be my first course when Greta finally got here with my lunch. I'd done a shit job at packing and only had half my usual toiletries. My aspirin must be on its way to The Point instead of here with me. Luckily I had deodorant and a toothbrush. Oh, and a glitter powdery thingie - that was real important to have now! I was way too drunk to have packed myself last night. I should have had Nick do it.

I had to smile at that thought. No, if Nick had packed me, I probably would have 12 t-shirts, lots of lingerie and no shoes. He was bad at that sort of thing.

But he had helped. I remembered watching him sitting on the floor of my bedroom at the hotel, neatly folding my t-shirts and talking me down from the edge of hysteria.

"He's so sweet, Em… and I'm treating him like dirt. I'm such a horrible girlfriend."

"What?" she demanded and I could just see her gray eyes rolling as she listened to me. Em was like that, her eyes showed everything she was thinking. She was shit at keeping secrets. "I heard the little shit cheated on you! That couldn't have been your fault!"

"Well…"

"Spill, Rache. What the hell is happening?"

"I told you. I'm a horrible girlfriend. He's always doing these sweet things for me and… I'm so busy, Emmie. I don't have any time for a relationship! I feel like I'm just barely holding myself together, let alone anyone else. And the band! Fuck. We went gold, did I tell you that?"

"No. Because you never tell me anything!"

I had to laugh at that. Em hated being the last person to know anything. She was a bit of a gossip that way.

"Well, we did. All thanks to your video, I'm sure."

"My amazing video."

"Right," I laughed, "Your amazing, fabulous, ground-breaking video! I'm sure it didn't hurt, at any rate." I stopped talking for a moment to take a breath and stare at the ceiling. "What the hell am I doing here Em? I should be at home sleeping for a week before we come to the UK. This tour is important, and I'm fucking off to sooth Nick's fragile ego."

"Is that what you're doing?"

"I don't know!" I whined into the phone, biting my lip to keep from crying. "Shit, I am so strung out, Em. I need to sleep for a week and not talk to anyone. I feel like I don't know which end is up. I love him, I really do! He makes me so happy. He's sweet and adorable and… fuck… the sex."

"Stop! I can't go there with him!"

"Yeah, whatever," I laughed and heard her sigh on the other end of the phone. Why was she so far away? I wanted a best girlfriend here that I could go out to lunch with and talk to… not one that I only saw a few times a year! Okay, I couldn't get all distracted here. "But… fuck, this is so important, what's happening now. And I have a million things to be doing. I can't tell Saffron I'm not doing an interview or that I need a night off!"

"Who's Saffron?"

"What?"

"Saffron? I thought the label whore was Amber."

"Label whore is Amber. Saffron is our new manager. I haven't told you about Saffron?"

"You have real management?" she screamed, and I had to laugh.

"Duh. For about a month, maybe less. I told you!"

"Did not! I so would have remembered that! That's so great. Why can't you say no to Saffron? Alex says no to Nieve all the time. It's easy…"

"I'm not Alex, and we're not Blur. I don't get to say no yet." Not that I didn't want to. I wanted to say no all the time. Now that we actually had someone out there representing us, our schedule was a million times worse than it had been before. And Saffron kept saying she was working on more things - commercials and endorsements and sponsorships. I couldn't keep track of them all.

"Well maybe you should. You've gone gold. The video is a hit. It was only a matter of time, Rache. Damon always said that… all you needed was a solid hit and it would all take off."

"He did?" Damon had said that? When? Damon had always told me how uninteresting our stuff was, not that we would be big one day. Always fucking around with my confidence, Damon.

"Yeah. All the time. In his own shitty, Damon sort of way, he's really proud of you, Rache. It's cute."

"I can't talk about him, Em. The last thing I need to do is start thinking about Damon. Nick is weird enough about Jeremy and… oh, shit! Know who let him in to see me? Jeremy!"

"To see you? Back up there, Rache. Remember, I don't know the story!"

So I told her in gory detail. Nearly every moment from my confronting Nick in that stupid hotel hallway to climbing onto the bus two days ago and seeing him again. All the sappy messages and hours spent crying and missing him, even. Finally, I was talked out and surrounded by tissues, and I heard a knock on the door.

"Fuck! He ordered me lunch, I forgot!"

"He ordered you lunch? Where is he?"

"Dunno. They had press stuff and the concierge called a while ago and said he'd arranged lunch and a message. See… he's so sweet…"

Em stopped me before I could get all maudlin on her again. "Rachel! Listen to me for a second."

I half listened as I pulled on a hotel robe and opened the door, letting the woman who could only be Greta into the main room and moving away so she could wheel in a service cart and set up my lunch.

"Listening…"

"You need to stop thinking so much. Learn a bit from my mistakes. I've been there. The groupies, the jealousy, the whole bit. Relationships are hard enough - throw all that other stuff into the mix and it will seem impossible. You need to step back and not think about that stuff."

"But how! He fuckin' cheated on me, Em!" Greta looked over at me, and I felt myself blush, moving into the bedroom quickly and shutting the door. "He knew that was the deal-breaker and… I'm just supposed to forgive and forget, and hope he doesn't do it again?"

"Yeah."

Her answer stopped me. "What?"

"Yes. You need to forgive and forget and get on with your lives. If you love him and he loves you, then you will learn to trust each other. Sounds like you're making him grovel a bit, and that's fine. But in the end, do you want to keep fighting about this or call a truce and move on?"

I stared at my reflection in the mirror as I sat on the bed and let Em's words wash over me. A truce?

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