Oreos for Breakfast: Nick BSB Fiction

Oreos for Breakfast - Chapter 22

By
The Paperbag Princess & The Pumpkin Coach

I smiled for the fans, posing for pictures and scribbling my name on whatever was shoved in front of me. I glanced over at Rachel. She was radiant even though she had to be exhausted. How selfish was I? I wanted her to stay here with me instead of going home and getting the rest she needed. She signed things, laughing when a fan asked her to autograph her picture in Rolling Stone for her boyfriend who was obsessed with her.

I knew from obsession. I had the picture hanging above the bunk in my tour bus.

Finally Frank told them I was tired and led us inside. I took her hand as soon as she finished signing her last autograph, and she smiled up at me.

We were quiet in the elevator, except for Frank telling me when to be ready the next morning before the doors opened and he started off down the hallway.

"Nicky?" she started, but I didn't let her finish her thought.

"I moved us." Before we left. She'd still be futzing in the bathroom and I'd snuck out to call down and see if the Penthouse was free. We didn't need two rooms anymore, right? Well, I'd thought so then. I covered quickly, flashing her a smile,"Only the best for my girl."

Frank opened our door, and she gasped. Alright, this was pretty amazing. Great view and it was huge. Worth every cent it'd cost. We said goodnight to Frank quickly, and I locked the door, letting Rachel survey the room for a moment before I went up behind her, pulling her back against me.

"I love you, Rache."

His voice was shaking, and I crossed my arms over his, leaning back into him. "I know, baby."

He just pulled me closer. "Baby" was supposed to make him laugh, damnit. If we couldn't laugh this off, we were going to have to discuss it, and I didn't want to relive one second of the jealousy that'd made me freak out.

"I'm sorry I upset you, Nick. I overreacted."

He shook his head. "No. I was a shit. I… I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't understand how I can treat you so badly."

He was about to cry again, and I whirled around, taking his face in my hands. "It was one minute, Nick. You made a little mistake, and I blew it out of proportion."

"I deserved it."

I started to protest, and then stepped away from him. "We are completely overwrought."

That made him smile, running his hand through his hair.

"We need to talk about this." I owed him that. I could not play jealousy mind games with him. I was too good at it. "But good sex just rattled us more, so let's take a break. Let's order dinner, and I'll tell you how awesome your show was."

He flashed me that cocky grin that made my knees buckle. "Sounds good."

I led him over to the couch and had him sit down. "Sit here. If I can find my bag, I have a surprise for you."

I watched as she disappeared into the bedroom, searching for her bags. I hoped the hotel staff had packed everything. I loved Rachel surprises. They were usually pretty terrific. What did she have for me? Had to be lingerie, the way she was smiling. But I'd already seen the new lingerie she'd bought in Vancouver.

I loved that she wanted to wear sexy things for me. Not that she needed to- Rachel in a paper bag would still be sexy to me. She could be my Paperbag Princess. That was a princess, right? I giggled to myself. I was just getting giddy now. Too much sex and not enough sleep this afternoon.

But I didn't want to talk now, I wanted to have sex and feel her be a part of me. But that didn't even seem to last. We'd been together all day, and I'd been inside her about 15 minutes ago, and just now as she'd walked away from me, I'd felt like she was leaving forever.

I had to get over this! I used to believe her when she said she loved me. But now I felt like every mistake would be my last, and the more I asked for reassurance, the more annoyed she got with me.

She screamed, and I jumped up. "Rache? What's wrong?" I found her in the bathroom, giggling madly, still in her dress. Not lingerie? I'd been sort of hoping…

Damn, I loved to watch her giggle! I smiled with her, able to breathe for the first time since we'd been on the bus.

"Look at this tub, Nick! We could fit my whole band in here!"

Oh yeah… forgot about that. Best part about the penthouse suite was a huge jacuzzi tub. And I'd specifically asked them to stock the bathroom with all the stuff she liked. There was bubble bath and bath bombs, new fluffy towels laid out on the counters and a small basket full of washcloths and sponges. I held up a particularly small sponge. "That's this one for, Rache?"

"Beats me," she giggled, "But we're so gonna use everything in here! This is the best hotel ever!" She leaned over one of the lit candles and sniffed, closing her eyes, "Vanilla. I love that… sweet."

I pulled her into my arms, kissing the top of her head. "Just like you, buttercup. Should we order dinner first?"

She was off, and I followed her back into the living room. I loved her in this mood, happy, like a kid in a candy store as she discovered the cool things about our new room.

I sat on the couch again and watched her on the phone with room service. I didn't care what we ate. I wasn't even really hungry. Now, naked in the tub, that would be nice…

"Honey, you look so tired." She sat next to me on the couch, stroking my face. I shut my eyes, loving her touch. "Do you just want to go to bed?"

"No!" I looked at her, shaking my head. "You're leaving tomorrow! I'm not sleeping. I can sleep later."

She considered me for a long moment. "Kevin's right. I'm a bad influence."

"What did he say to you?" Fucking bastard. I'd seen him talking to her before the show. AJ, too. But at least I knew AJ liked her. He liked me with her, too, he said so. But Kevin… Kevin had liked her for about three minutes, and now he was all fussy and fatherly and fucking annoying.

"Nothing. I can just tell that he thinks I'm a terrible distraction."

We just looked at one another for a long moment. She was a distraction, a horrible one. I couldn't think of anything else but her, and it was affecting my work.

She kissed me quickly, getting up from the couch. "Fuck him. I don't want you to sleep. Maybe if we talk it'll be better."

I couldn't see how. She was leaving tomorrow, and I was only okay when she was with me. She was buzzing around the room, moving things and disappearing back into her room for more candles and stuff. She chattered on, and I think I answered, but mostly I just watched her, too tired to get up and stop her from fussing.

Scarves on the lamps, and candles lit, I felt closer to her. She was so good at wrapping this little cocoon around the two of us, so that our bands fell away and it was just us… just Rachel and Nick.

She disappeared into the bathroom again, and I leaned back against the couch, closing my eyes and breathing in the scent of her candles. Lavender would always remind me of Rachel, no matter what happened.

"Nick." I opened my eyes slowly, smiling as she stroked my hair. She was dressed in a black silk thing that floated around her, and I felt myself grow hard as I touched her. We wouldn't take that off… no, I liked the feel of it against my skin…

"Dinner's here. Are you sure you don't want to go to bed?"

I sat up, startled. I hadn't even heard the door open. "What time is it?"

"Midnight-ish. You've only been asleep a few minutes."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "No. I'm fine. What's for dinner?" You?

Smiling, she started uncovering plates. "I'm a bad girlfriend, but caffeine. Iced tea, mainlined."

I took the glass she handed me and drank half of it in a swallow. Did she really expect me to talk rationally to her when she was dressed like that? "Now, weren't you supposed to tell me how great my show was?"

I sat next to him on the couch, smiling. "You were fucking amazing tonight. Kevin is going to fucking kill me, isn't he?"

He kissed me, and then reached for a sandwich. "I couldn't take my eyes off you. And what's this thing on my neck, Rache?"

Giggling, I leaned over to examine it. "I don't know what came over me. Sorry." It was turning purple. It was going to last for days.

"You'll leave this room with a hickey, don't worry. I'm just trying to figure out the most embarrassing place to put it…" He considered me, and it was all I could do not to screw dinner and rip his clothes off. But that would solve nothing. Hadn't I learned that from Jeremy?

Jeremy. God. Why was I thinking about him?

We chatted, picking food off one another's plates and laughing. I loved the way he looked at me in my sexy new teddy. But my mind was somewhere else, trying to figure out how to fix what was wrong between us. Today had been so good. That wasn't just my imagination.Well, okay, up until I freaked out on him on the tour bus. Other than that, we were great.

Maybe a bath would help at least relax us. I got up, running the water and lighting candles. It was going to take forever to fill this tub. I went back into the living room, and he was cleaning up from dinner, putting the dishes outside the door. He caught me before I could start unpacking, pulling me into his arms. "I love you," he said, looking down at me.

I knew that look, and it always surprised me to get it. He needed to hear me say it back, like it wasn't written in my forehead in neon? "I love you, too." His face relaxed, and I kissed him. "I adore you. You're amazing. You're everything I ever wanted and then some."

He blinked back tears, and I stroked his cheek. "I'm not sure what I need to do to make you believe that. It's true. I adore you. You're sweet and funny and sexy as hell. You hurt me and you're forgiven. You can stop being nervous. I'm not going anywhere. Really. I know I overreacted earlier, and that was all me."

His lips crashed into mine, taking my breath away as he pulled me against his body. "I wouldn't blame you if you did leave me," he whispered against my shoulder, and I stepped out of his arms.

"Well, you should! If I left you, you should blame it on my bad taste, not any failing of yours."

He smiled at my rant, leaning against the wall. "So when I cheated on you, you blamed it all on my bad taste?"

I started to answer him, then stopped, smiling. "Touché. But you still need to work on your self-esteem. Oh! I have another present for you."

"Other than that nightgown?" he asked with a leer, and I laughed, glancing around the room. What had I done with it? I'd had it on when room service knocked… the bathroom. I ran to get it, and when I came back, he was still leaning against the wall, just watching me with that smile that I loved on his face. I held out my hand, showing him the ring in my palm. He looked at it, then up at me, half puzzled and half hopeful. "What is that?"

"They say that you buy people the presents you want… and you bought me that cool jewelry, so when I was shopping yesterday…" He was still looking at me, a puzzled expression on his face, and I laughed, "It's so you can wear it and the fans can obsess over who gave it to you and why."

He smiled at that and then took it from me, examining it. It was a thick band, twisted white and yellow gold. "It's beautiful. Like you." Leaning forward, he kissed me carefully, still just holding the ring. "It's gorgeous. I'll never take it off, and they'll have us married by the end of the month."

I smiled up at him. "I don't have one. It'll confuse the hell outta them."

He stroked my face tenderly, his eyes serious. "Say the word, Rache. I'll buy you a ring. I'll do whatever you want."

My heart leapt into my throat and I stepped away from him, trying to laugh it off. "Then they'll try to kill me, little man. Not going there. Does it fit? I had to guess."

He tried it on a couple of fingers, finally settling on the middle finger of his left hand. I kissed his fingers. "It looks good there."

"I love it, Rache. Thank you." We kissed, and I had to make myself move away. Talking, not sex... we had to talk things out.

I checked on the bath, and then went to find the wine I'd ordered for us. Not mine, but it would do. "Strip, it's almost ready. Are you still tired? Will wine just put you to sleep?"

He shook his head, tossing his shirt across the room. Who was gonna pick that up tomorrow? Me.

Who picked up his shirts when I wasn't here?

"Wine is fine. Is it Rachel wine?"

I had to smile at him as he stepped out of his pants. "It's all Rachel wine to you, isn't it?" He hated wine. I knew that he only pretended to like it for me.

He pouted at me, standing there naked. "The Rachel wine is a '92 Merlot from Connor Vineyards. All other wine tastes like crap."

I laughed, finding my corkscrew. "So glad to know you have a discerning palate, dear." I started opening the wine, and he came up behind me, kissing my shoulder.

"We're taking a bath, right?" he asked quietly, breathing against my neck. Suddenly my hands were shaking, and I put the bottle on the table to steady it. "Because we need to talk. Not have sex." He sounded like he was trying to convince himself, and I shut my eyes as he kissed my neck, sliding his arms around my waist. "Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are in this thing, Rache?" I turned my head, moaning slightly as he slid his tongue inside my mouth.

Our eyes met as we moved apart, and I shook my head. "Tempting as the idea might be, sex isn't going to solve any of our problems." He looked so disappointed that I laughed. "We can have sex after we talk, I promise."

Smiling again, he let me go. "Then c'mon, into the tub! Let's get this over with!" He found wineglasses as I uncorked the bottle. "Will you wash my hair?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure." He'd tell me anything when I was rubbing his head.

Or maybe I needed to tell him some things? I wasn't sure. I just knew I wanted this to be fun again. Carrying the wine, I led him into the bathroom. Steam was rising from the water, caught in the flickering candlelight, and he kissed me. "I love you. You're fucking magical."

I just smiled stupidly at him. He said the sweetest things. I never wanted him to stop.

God, I never wanted him to stop.

He turned off the water, and the silence was almost deafening. Stepping in, he held out a hand to me, and I turned away, looking in the mirror. "Let me put my hair up. If it gets wet it'll be a disaster."

Sitting down, he sighed at me. "Wanton sex goddess. Black silk and your hair up. I can barely stand it."

I smiled at him in the mirror, twisting my hair to the top of my head. He looked away from me, pouring the wine, and I tried to catch my breath.

This was supposed to be a fling, and I was thinking forever and buying him rings. I'd known this was going to happen. That's why I'd fought it. He's way too young for forever. Jeremy and I had talked about forever and look at us now. I didn't want that to happen to me and Nick.

"Rache!" He flicked a handful of bubbles at me, and I had to laugh. "C'mon, the water's getting cold."

"I seriously doubt that, darling." I started to pull off my teddy, and he whined, making me stop. "What?"

"Can you keep it on?"

I smiled at him indulgently. "I'm getting in the tub, darling."

"But… you'll be sitting on the edge, right? To wash my hair?" He was absolutely petulant, and adorable.

"Yeah… but you can't even see me, you'll be facing away."

"But I'll know."

I shook my head, stepping into the tub to move behind him. "You are too cute. Now be good. I spent a fortune on this thing." I sat on the edge of the tub, reaching for the showerhead.

"It was worth it. You look gorgeous."

Leaning down, I kissed him. "That was the general idea. Now, come here."

Grinning, he moved to sit between my legs, twisting around to kiss me again. As we moved apart, I shot him with the shower and he sputtered, laughing. "Bitch!"

"Wanna wash your own hair?"

No. I turned around, settling obediently between her knees. "You are an amazing, wonderful woman." Especially in black silk. Man, I knew we needed to talk, but all I could think about was making love to her, feeling her skin under that silk…

She snickered, wetting my hair, running her fingers through it. I loved this. Maybe it was weird, but I loved it, her strong fingers massaging my scalp, the way she carefully avoided getting soap in my eyes. It wasn't even really sexual. It was… intimate. We had our best talks in the tub. At least we used to. It was a long time since we'd taken a bath together.

We needed to talk. We'd had a good day, and we weren't angry any more. Now we could figure out what was going on, right? We'd tried talking about our relationship a few days ago, but we were still angry and defensive and scared then. Maybe now we'd work it out.

She started massaging my head, and I groaned. She had the most amazing hands, strong. I could feel the calluses on her fingers as she rubbed my head. "Do you groan like that at the hairdressers?" she wondered, and I did it again to make her laugh.

"No, baby, its all for you." Shit. "Baby." I called her that all the time. I never knew she didn't like it. Her hands hesitated for a second and then kept moving. "I'm sorry, Rache. I'll try…"

She cut me off. "Don't. It's okay. I was just overreacting, I told you that. Relax, baby."

I smiled, relaxing again, and we were quiet for a minute. "Rache?"

"Yes, sweetie?" Her hands were at the base of my neck, and I let my head fall forward.

"You did overreact… back there on the bus."

"Yeah," she admitted, running her nails along my scalp. Jesus.

"I mean, I was a shit. I admit that."

"I'm not a groupie, Nick." I couldn't see her to tell how she meant that. Was she teasing me? I knew she wasn't a groupie. I'd treated her like a cheap fuck, though.

"I know. But…"

"But I didn't need to freak out, I'm sorry. I hate that I did that."

"Why did you overreact, Rache?"

She was quiet for a moment, but her hands never stopped moving. "I've been wondering that ever since I did it. Give me a moment to ponder?"

"I'll give you the world if you keep rubbing my head like this."

She leaned forward to kiss my shoulder, and I could feel her smile. "Tour bus?"

"Whatever you want."

Laughing, she moved back, and I could hear her fumbling for the showerhead. I whined. "Don't worry, honey," she laughed. "Lather, rinse, repeat. Lean back."

I leaned my head back, smiling up at her, and she bent down to kiss me before rinsing the soap from my hair. I loved the look on her face, tender and intent all at once, as she carefully took care of me. She did love me. It was just so hard to believe that when she wasn't right in front of me. Hell, sometimes it was hard to remember when she was right here.

She reached for the shampoo again, and I kissed the inside of her thigh, sliding my tongue against her soft skin and making her gasp. "Quit that, little man."

I looked up, attempting to look innocent. "Just trying to return the favor… you won't let me wash your hair." I'd tried once, and made a disaster of it- her curls had become a tangled mess.

Grabbing my shoulders, she turned me away from her. "One of these days you'll learn some patience and I'll let you try again." Her fingers were in my hair again, and I sighed. We were quiet except for my occasional moans and her accompanying giggles until she'd rinsed all the soap from my hair and then draped her arms around my neck, kissing my cheek. "Feel good?"

"Amazing, Rache. I'd let you do that forever." I kissed her.

Did he realize what he'd just said?

Of course not. He was a little boy, that's how little boys talk. 'Forever' to him means next month. Forever to him once meant Willa.

Why was it coming back to the ex's tonight? Weren't we past that by now?

I moved away from him. "Can I take this off and get in the water? Please?"

He turned around, looking at me for a long moment, devouring me with his eyes. He made me feel so beautiful. Finally, he nodded. "But you'll put it back on after we talk."

I laughed, pulling it over my head and tossing it across the room. "Promise, I'll wear it again." Hell, I'd wear it every night if it meant he'd look at me that way. I slid into the water, sitting at the opposite end of the tub. He leaned back against his wall, reaching for his wine glass. He looked relaxed and happy and absolutely gorgeous, his cheeks flushed from the steam, his hair falling into his eyes just how I'd arranged it.

"I figured it out."

He looked at me over his glass, taking a sip. "Figured what out, Rache?"

"Why I overreacted."

His eyes got more serious as he put his glass down on the side of the tub. He was going to hate what I had to say, I just knew it.

"The last time I felt like a groupie like that was with Jeremy."

Indeed. He looked like I'd smacked him. I took a sip of my wine, working up the nerve to go on.

"Jeremy? But…"

Shaking my head, I stopped him. "You know when I tell you not to play jealousy mind games with me? I learned them from Jeremy. Or he learned them from me, or something. But by the end, we were seriously fucked up, Nick. I was so one of many with him, and I hated feeling that way."

He shook his head. "I don't get it, Rache. He had you and he didn't appreciate it. How could he…"

"Don't." I looked away from his sweet, sincere eyes, not wanting him to go on. "Don't tell me how amazing I am and ask how could anyone cheat on me, because I was no saint. After that first groupie I picked up, there was no going back. I was no victim, believe me. Part of me fucking loved it. I loved the sex, and I loved making him jealous. It was such a game. He'd get me jealous, and I'd find a boy to drive him crazy, and he'd go crazy and find another girl, and on and on and on. We pushed each other constantly, fighting and fucking and making up and starting all over again."

His voice was quiet. "That's not us. He made you miserable. Tell me I don't do that?"

"I know. You don't… But… Part of me liked that, Nick. I loved the sex, at least." I blushed now, remembering it. "I loved the sex until it started to become too much."

"How…" he wondered, and I met his eyes.

"We shared. Jasmine in Minneapolis wasn't the only one, Nick."

His eyebrows shot up, his mouth dropping open before he could censor himself.

"Often. We'd pick them out together."

The shock in his eyes was slowly being replaced by something else, and I smirked at him.

"I'm not telling you all the details right now. I'm trying to be serious."

He nodded, composing himself. "Of course. We'll save it for phone sex."

Laughing, I splashed bubbles at him. "Fine. Do you have anything to tell me? I know you've expanded your sexual horizons that way- or was she your first?"

I could see his blush even in the candlelight, and he took another drink of his wine, not looking at me. "Well, I didn't stay with her… but yeah, once or twice."

"It's fun. But it's not love. Jeremy was supposed to be in love with me, and I started to feel like I was just there to get him off. And I was. He wanted to play - with sex and drugs and rock and roll - and to keep him I played along. I mean, I wanted to experiment, too. And it was good, because now I know what I want. I want no drugs and a lot of alcohol." He smiled, and I smiled back, working up the nerve to go on. "I want my band, and I'm willing to sacrifice a lot for it. I want lots of sex, but with only one person. I even have him figured out."

"Do you?" He tried to sound casual, but it didn't really work, and I tried not to giggle.

"I want a nice, safe, stable guy. Like a stockbroker or accountant or something. Maybe older than me… I could be a trophy wife. Definitely not too hot. Hot guys are lousy lovers." Nick's face just dropped, and I almost stopped torturing him, but I knew where this was going. He'd be okay in a minute. "I want to be the biggest thing in his life. I want him to look at me like I'm the most perfect woman in the world, so that I'll never have to worry about him cheating."

The half hopeful look on his face was replaced by guilt, and I ran my hand along his leg, giving up. "But I got you instead. You're young and gorgeous and God knows you're able to cheat on me."

He looked at me, starting to say something, and I shook my head. "But you look at me like I'm the most perfect woman in the world, and I love that," I said quietly. "I love you beyond reason, Nick. You hurt me, and I took you back because I don't know how to be without you anymore. I want this to work. I want us to work."

His eyes were so blue, and his voice was barely a whisper when he answered me. "I do, too."

I looked away from him, forcing myself to keep talking. "But that's so unfair of me. You haven't had the time yet to figure out those things for yourself. Maybe in two years or five, you'll have made all sorts of other decisions."

He was next to me in a rush of water, cupping my face in his hands. "No. In two years I want to be next to you."

I looked down at his chest, running my finger along his new tattoo that would always remind us of our time together. I couldn't bear to look up into his sweet, loving eyes. I blinked, and a tear fell down my cheek. Damn, I hated crying and it's all I was doing lately! "When I was twenty-one, I wanted to be with Jeremy forever."

"You're not Jeremy!" he protested, letting me go as I moved away, wiping away my tears with a wet hand.

"I know I'm not. But who knows about you? You haven't figured it all out yet."

"Rache, I started a lot earlier than you did. When you were in high school crushed out on your gay best friend, I was touring Europe and girls were throwing themselves at me. I've had it with meaningless sex."

I started to say something, and he just went on. "The world blew up, Rache, and… I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was strung out and I cheated on you, and… hell, we spent a week apart and I slept with other girls, trying to find a fraction of what we had together, and I never did. I can't imagine in two years or ten or fifty that I'll try it again."

"You don't know that. We've only been together a couple of months."

"You just told me you want me! Why can't I make the same decision about you?"

"Because you're comparing me to Willa. I'm sure this seems like paradise, after that."

"You're comparing me to Damon and Jeremy. I know I'm better than either of them!"

He flashed me that cocky smile that I adored, and my breath caught in my throat. God, what was I doing? He'd hurt me once. Why was I giving him the chance to do it again? I'd trusted Jeremy and Damon, and look what that'd got me.

"Rache!"

She looked so scared, jumping when I called her name. I moved closer to her, taking her hand in mine under the warm water. "I love you. I've been around the world and slept with plenty of girls, and I know what I want, too. I want you. Just you."

"You didn't want just me that night…" she bit out, sounding sad through her anger.

"It was one night, because I missed you so bad. It's not going to happen again. That drunk, stupid jealousy was nothing compared to being without you and knowing that you hated me. Believe me, I half think you're going to walk out that door now. I'm not about to give you a real reason to do that."

She threw her arms around my neck, and I held her tightly, kissing her shoulder. "I'm an old lady who needs a commitment, Nicky. I'm sorry."

"You've got it, Rache. Just you."

"You said that before." Her voice broke, and my heart broke with it. "You sat on my deck in Long Island, and you said you wouldn't cheat on me." What could I say to that? She was right. I'd done that. She saved me as she went on. "And I told you we could have an open relationship, and you didn't want that."

"I don't."

"Last and final offer, Nick. If that's what you want, we can do that."

I let her go slowly, moving away to look at her. "Do you want that?" Of course she did. Phone sex with me was boring when she could have her pick of cute boys in the front row. She had a whole legion of groupies now. Every guy knew who she was and wanted to be with her.

"I've done it before."

Is that what she and Jeremy had called it? "It didn't work, did it?"

She shook her head, looking away from me. "No… but we were together every day, Jeremy and I. You and I barely see each other. It might make more sense. Might make phone sex more intense, ya' know?" she finished, looking up at me with a half smile.

"No." The thought of her with another man made me crazy. I knew she'd slept with groupies while we'd been apart, and I wanted to ask her for every detail and then erase them from her body. "No!"

He yelled the word, and I jumped, leaning back against my wall. Maybe he didn't want it… I didn't either, but I had to make sure he knew what I was suggesting. "Just sex. We'd come back to one another every night."

"No!" he yelled again, slamming his hand into the water. "If I just want to get off, I can do that with you on the phone."

"What if you can't get me on the phone? What if I'm busy, or halfway across the world or out dancing with JC fucking Chasez?"

"Then…" He caught himself, taking a breath and looking at me. "I'll remind myself that he's gay!" We both laughed for a moment, but when he spoke he was serious again, "Then I'll look at this ring that you just gave me, and I'll try to convince myself that you love me. But you have to call me. If I leave you a dozen desperate messages, please, Rache, call me."

I reached up, brushing the hair away from his eyes. "Okay. I'm bad about that sometimes."

"Call me. Anytime. Even if it's two minutes, call me."

"I will." I ran my hand along his face, considering him for a long moment. "Nick, I want you to think about this. I know right now you're reacting out of jealousy and anger and a bunch of other things. But calm down and think about it." He started to say something, and I shook my head, pushing him away gently. "Go sit over there and think about it for a minute. Think about coming off stage and being able to pick up some pretty girl at a club and knowing I won't get upset about it."

He sat back in his corner, not looking at me, and I went on.

"We'd have rules. One-night stands only, never even give out the phone numbers. And we'd have to tell each other all about it. It wouldn't be about emotion, it would be all about sex."

Part of me wanted him to agree to it. I could only imagine how hot our phone sex would get as we graphically described other lovers.

"They wouldn't be allowed to stay. We'd have to call each other as soon as they left."

He was quiet for a long moment, and then shook his head, looking at me. "No," he said quietly. "I can't. It's never just about sex with me. I never kick girls out of my bed when I'm done with them."

I loved him for so many reasons.

"And I can't agree that you can let them stay. That would kill me, thinking that you'd be clutching on to someone else in your sleep."

"That would upset you more than if I fucked someone else?" he asked, surprised, his voice squeaking. God, I loved that.

I shrugged. "You're young, and I know exactly how high your sex drive is. But I need to be the one that you love, the one that you turn to when you're lonely."

"You're everything I need, Rache." He was so sincere, and I just looked at him for a moment. Then he started singing softly, and I had to laugh. I'd missed the encore again tonight, but that new song fit us perfectly, didn't it? Even forever doesn't seem like long enough…

I moved over to him, kissing him before he could turn this into a horrible romance novel. I let him wrap his arms around me as I leaned my head on his chest, listening to his heart beating. "We have to change things, Nick."

He stopped humming and kissed the side of my head. "I know. I want this to be fun again."

"Me too!" I exclaimed. "That's exactly what I've been thinking. We did good before you went back on tour, didn't we?"

"Yeah…" he said quietly, running his hand down my arm. "It's been amazing, ever since I met you."

I snuggled closer to him, letting him touch me gently under the water, loving the way his hands felt slipping against my skin. "It was. Then you went on tour and we had no time, and it all went pear shaped."

He laughed. "It went what?"

I looked up at him, smiling. "Pear shaped. It's a British thing, means 'it all went horribly wrong,' I have no idea where it came from, but Alex uses it all the time."

He kissed me quickly at I looked up at him. "You're going to be in Europe for so long..."

"I know," I whispered. "Want to reconsider that other lovers thing?"

He shook his head. "No. But… something has to be different. I don't know what I'm going to do, knowing that you're going to see Damon and all your old friends."

"I don't want him. Really, I don't. He is so not a threat to what we have."

I believed her as she looked up at me, her curls falling in her eyes. But what about next week, when I couldn't get her on the phone and I was alone in a hotel room? What then? "What about flirting?"

"With Damon? He's a lousy flirt."

"No," I protested. "Can I flirt with other girls? Can I go out dancing and buy them drinks?"

"Sweetie, you could always have done that. I did, and I just recently realized how crazy it made you."

She moved away from me as I considered her seriously. "You have to tell me. If you're going out with one of your many friends, tell me. Because then I hear the gossip and I get crazy," I admitted.

"Okay. You have to tell me, too. Come back from the club and leave me a drunken rambling message that you danced with three girls and they were really hot but all you could think about was me," she smiled.

"Will we talk to one another at all while you're in Europe? I know you're gonna be busy, and the time difference…" I trailed off. Not talking to her made me jealous and depressed. We barely talked when we were in the same time zone.

"How about email? We did good on email before we got together. Because you're right, and I won't even have my cell phone."

"You won't? Is it broken?"

She giggled. "It only works in North America."

"Mine works in Europe. I'll get you one like mine." She started to protest, and I went on. "And money. Money's going to change. You have some now, Rache. But if my money means that we get to see each other or talk to each other more, why won't you take it? I don't care, Rache. I can't tell you how much I don't care."

"But you do care. You love that I pay my own way." I just blinked at her. "You do," she insisted. "You've told me, it makes me completely unlike any other girl you've ever been with."

She was right. I did like it. It made me feel… less taken for granted. "You're so different on so many levels, Rache. It's okay." She started to protest again, and I took her hands, pulling her close to me again. "I know if I pay for things you're not going to take it for granted that I'll do it again. That's one thing I am secure in."

"But I hate… owing you."

"You don't owe me. What can we do so you don't feel that way? You don't mind if I buy you presents, even expensive ones. Let me buy you a phone. And let me pay the bill, because it's going to be ridiculous."

"I can't let you pay my bills, Nick! I'm a grown up. I pay my own bills!"

She was seriously annoyed, I could tell as she pulled her hands away from me and retreated to the other side of the tub. I didn't even know how to begin to talk to her about this. I'd gotten Mandy about five credit cards, and she'd used them on everything. My accountant had once tried to make me look at a report on how much I'd spent on her, and I'd seen about six figures and given up.

"But, Rache, it's about us. I can't… look, if you're in London, and you have to use the hotel phone to call me, you're not gonna wanna talk long, because it'll cost a fortune. Let me buy you the phone, and pay the bill, and when you've got a free minute, call me. Consider it… I don't know. Consider it a relationship expense. I'll take care of the relationship expenses."

I was being stupid. I could feel it. But it had always been driven into my head to take care of my own finances. All my life, my parents had separate bank accounts and one joint one for house expenses. I took another drink of my wine, thinking.

"Okay. You can do that. For now. But when I get money, I'll pay you back."

He smiled indulgently. "Alright, baby."

"Don't baby me!" I snapped, but I smiled to show him I was joking. "You're the one who's always saying we're gonna be bigger than Backstreet. In five years, I'll be paying your phone bills as you constantly tour for your few remaining fans in Germany or Sweden or wherever."

He tossed some bubbles at me, laughing. "If it comes to that, I'll become your guitar tech."

I giggled madly. "Sorry, you need qualifications for that."

"Your love slave, then."

"Now you're talkin'. " I grinned, pulling him towards me.

He kissed me, and I was happy to not have to talk about this any more. I didn't want his money or his fame. He loved that about me. I know he did. I just wanted him. Another month or so, and we'd have that. He'd be finished with his tour, and we'd have to have at least a couple weeks off, right? We just had to get through this first.

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