Oreos for Breakfast: Chapter 30

Oreos For Breakfast: Chapter 30
By the Paperbag Princess and Pumpkin Coach

The door opened, and I rolled off the couch, going over to meet Rachel as she came in. "Hi, honey. How was your day?"

"Crappy. How was yours?"

"I am very sure it was worse than yours."

I wrapped my arms around her, and she smiled up at me, putting her arms around my neck. "Saffron said…"

I didn't care. I didn't want to talk about how bad my day was, or how many interviews she'd had to do. I kissed her, backing her up against the wall. With a small moan, she responded to my touch, pulling me closer by wrapping one leg around mine.

Since yesterday, we'd barely even kissed. What was wrong with us? Our jobs had gotten in the way. Fuck that. Now it was just us in this hotel room, and I didn't want to think about anything other than how she felt moving against me.

She pulled away, resting her head on my chest. "What was I saying?"

"I don't care."

"Neither do I."

I hugged her tighter. "I missed you, Rache," I whispered. "I can't believe we spent a whole month apart. And then, today… what were we doing, working?"

She looked up at me with a grin. "I have eleven days off! Well, ten now. Lola's already booked my flight home tomorrow. I almost went tonight, but I wanted to come back here and be with you. We're leaving at noon tomorrow."

But the 'Nsync tour started the day after tomorrow. In California. So we were going to stay in L.A. for the couple of days she had off. "What happened?"

"Evidently Justin and JC didn't want to jeopardize my health. Well, I suspect James bent JC's ear. So Puffy's going to do our dates for a few days, then we pick up with them in Anaheim. Isn't that awesome?"

She was so excited. So was I. I wasn't sure what was going to happen once the tour kicked off, but now I didn't have to worry about it for a few more days. We could go to the Point tomorrow and just be together, and I could talk to her about all the shit that had happened today, and…

Shit. "Well… I…" I let her go, and she looked up at me.

"What?"

"I have to stay tomorrow. Today sucked, and if I'm not here tomorrow, I'm not sure that I'll have a band any longer to go back to, even if the rest of them can get their act together. You can hang out here. Hell, it's warm here, and you can lie next to the pool and…"

Shaking her head, she walked away from me, sitting down on the couch. "No."

No? What did she mean, no? I wanted to go to the Point house with her, but I just couldn't. Hell, she'd been working since she got to L.A., and we'd had about five minutes together in the last day and a half. That wasn't my fault. I just needed one freaking day!

"This is a great hotel, Nick. But I have to go home."

"Rache, it's a day!"

"That will turn into two, and then three, and then it's my whole ten days off. No, I'm going home tomorrow." Seeing my angry face, she held out a hand to me. "Bunny… I'm sorry. Really, I… shit!"

Her eyes welled up with tears, and I sat next to her. I tried to take her hands, hug her, something, but she waved me away. "Don't pay attention to me. I had a bad day."

After a second, she took a deep breath and turned to me with a small smile. "This is fine. I'll go home, see everyone, and sleep. Then when you get there, I'll be well rested and we won't have to waste our time together visiting my family."

"I like your family!"

She stroked my cheek. "I know. But they put a cramp in our sex life."

"What sex life?"

My tone was angry. I couldn't help it. She dropped her hand from my cheek and moved away from me. "If you had come back to the room with me last night, instead of being all macho with James, maybe we could have fixed that."

"I was like fifteen minutes behind you!" Okay, maybe twenty. "I was trying to protect you from the paparazzi!"

"I didn't need fucking protecting! What I needed was for my boyfriend to just take care of me a little."

"I was doing that!" The paparazzi were all over her, and I was trying to get them away. That's what guys were supposed to do! They protected girls from other guys. Bad guys.

"Fuck the fucking photographers," she snapped, anger flashing in her eyes. "All that you succeeded in doing was giving them an even bigger story. My day sucked because I spent all of it doing damage control. I had to sit in front of cameras next to James and show that I don't have a black eye, and James had to tell the story of how he got pissed off."

"So what? Everyone hates the paparazzi, and now James is a hero."

"James doesn't need to be a hero! James doesn't hit people! You did that."

"What?" She wasn't even making sense now. I wanted to hit that jerk, but James got there first. How was this my fault now?

She poked me. "You were egging him on. If you had told him to cool it, he never would've done anything. But the two of you were acting like macho assholes, and you were just looking for a fight."

"I was not! You had just fainted, Rachel. I didn't want anything to happen to you."

"If you hadn't been picking fights with paparazzi, maybe I could have spent the day sleeping."

"If you had eaten a fucking sandwich yesterday, I wouldn't have had to get the paparazzi out of your way. I didn't start this whole mess, Rachel. You did."

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me. "Fuck you. I'm getting the hell out of here. I don't need you yelling at me." She got up and walked away from me. What the fuck?

The last thing I fucking needed was Nick yelling at me. Even Jeremy had been good about what happened last night. I knew the fact that I'd fainted was my fault, but I didn't need anyone else telling me that. I hated that I'd fainted like a woman in a stupid romance novel. I hated that I couldn't even have a conversation with anyone today without feeling like I was going to burst into tears. Why was Nick being such an asshole about it?

I pulled my suitcase out of the closet and started throwing clothes into it. It wasn't that late. I could still get a flight home tonight. I wanted to be as far away from L.A. as soon as possible. I hated it here.

Last night should have been one of the best nights of my life, and instead it sucked. We'd been too busy talking to the press to enjoy the fact that we'd won a Grammy. And the story today was all about my collapse, and how James had decked a photographer.

I just wanted to go home and see my family. That would make everything seem real again. Success just made me miss Dad, and I was allowed to be sad about that at home.

Well, I was allowed to be sad about it here, but only if it made me cry on camera.

"Rache." Nick's voice was quiet, but I could still hear him. "What are you doing?"

"Packing. I'll catch the red-eye to New York."

Coming over to me, he took the shirt I was holding out of my hands, tossing it into my suitcase. "No, you're not."

I reached to pick up the shirt, but he blocked my arm. "Yes, I am! I don't want to be here any more! I fucking hate this town! I want to go home and see people that aren't fucking air-brushed."

"I know. Can you stand it for just one more day? For me? Please?"

His eyes met mine, and he was so scared, my heart broke. I sat on the edge of the bed, covering my face with my hands and trying not to burst into tears for the millionth time today "No. I'm sorry, Nick, but I can't."

"Can you wait until the morning? Please, just stay tonight. Don't leave like this."

I uncovered my face, finding him kneeling in front of me, his face nervous and scared.

"Please, Rache. Please. I'm so sorry for what I said out there. It was stupid. You're right. I should have been taking care of you last night, and instead I was acting like a macho jerk. I have fucked up everything today. The band hates me now, and I've been a lousy boyfriend, and I just can't…"

He stopped talking when I reached out, touching his face. Shutting his eyes, he leaned into my hand, a tear moving down his cheek.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly. "I should have taken better care of myself, and then I wouldn't have ruined everything yesterday. I've been a lousy girlfriend. What happened today? Why are you staying with the Firm for your solo stuff when the guys are leaving?"

He didn't answer me for a second, but he winced when I asked the last question. "Saffron?" he finally asked.

"Yeah. I tried to call you, but you didn't answer, and then I figured I'd just see you…" And then he'd greeted me with a kiss at the door and somehow it'd all fallen apart.

Opening his eyes, he sat back on the floor just looking up at me for a moment. "I had a really bad day."

"Mary Hart made me cry," I offered, and he grinned.

"Mary Hart?"

"Mary fucking Hart! It's not like it was Barbara Walters or someone respectable! No, just Mary fucking Hart! She asked about Dad and there were the tears." And here they were again. I was a fucking basket case.

Nick joined me on the bed, lying down and pulling me against his body. God, I loved it here in his arms. This is what I wanted last night. To just fall asleep feeling Nick's body against mine. "I'm sorry. You miss him, don't you?"

"All the time," I admitted. "But especially when great things happen. I just… I need to go home, Nick. I feel closer to him there."

He kissed my forehead. I hated disappointing him, but I knew that he'd understand. "Okay. Do you want to go now? I'll help you pack, and I'll be there as soon as I can. Is that okay? Can I still come?"

I pulled away, looking up at him. "Of course! But I won't go now. I'll go on my original flight tomorrow morning, and you can stay here and do what you need to do. What do you need to do? What's going on, bunny? Why didn't you tell me any of this?"

He fell back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. "I don't know what's going on. I've fucked everything up, and… I didn't know what to tell you. Like, I knew I should tell one of the guys that I was doing solo stuff, but I didn't know how, and I figured it wouldn't be a big deal, and…"

"Hold up. They didn't know about the solo album? What did they think you were doing since the tour ended?"

"I don't think any of them really gave a damn. They have their own lives, so why worry about Nick?"

He was definitely sounding bitter about that. His band was so different than mine. We'd never been on a break like Backstreet was now, but I couldn't imagine that I wouldn't know it if Darien was doing a solo album. Sometimes, on our vacations, I wouldn't talk to any of the guys for a few days, but it never went more than maybe a week.

"Before last night, when was the last time you'd talked to any of them?"

He considered. "Christmas. I talked to AJ on Christmas. Everyone else was busy." I remembered that. We'd been driving from my place to see Nick's family in Albany, and he'd called the guys while I was driving. He certainly hadn't said much to AJ, now that I thought about it.

"Oh." I sat up, wrapping my arms around my knees, and he looked over at me.

"I know I'm a lousy friend. I suck at it. All my home friends know it. I get all caught up in my life and I never take the time to call people. I should have called one of them and let them know what I was doing, instead of letting them find out from the rumor mill."

"Is that how they found out?"

He rolled his eyes. "Howie heard from someone that I was laying down tracks because he got asked if they were for the new Backstreet album. He called me a couple of weeks ago…" he trailed off, looking guilty.

"And you never called him back."

"No," Nick admitted. "Because he sounded really excited that I was working on Backstreet stuff, and…"

I finished for him. "This is not Backstreet stuff."

It was completely different than Backstreet. This was all Nick. He deserved that, didn't he? Couldn't he have something in his life that was all his?

"I know! You understand that, why don't they? They all attacked me today, saying I should have told them, blah blah blah… It would be one thing if they wanted to get back together and record something, and I was holding them up. But I'm not! They don't want to go back in the studio, so why am I getting the guilt trip?" I started to say something, but he was on a roll. "I mean, AJ needs to work on his sobriety. Brian and Leighanne want to have a kid, and… I don't know what Howie and Kevin want to do. Whatever. But why is this my fault?"

He was getting mad now. He sat up, so that he could really get into what he was saying. "They get to take a break and they're all grown-up and responsible. I do something that really matters to me, and I'm being a stupid kid. It's like they think I'm doing this just to piss them off. Why can't I do something just for me?"

"You can," I told him. "They want to take a break, right? So who cares what you're doing with your time off?"

"They do, because now it gets to be all my fault. And they just about lost it when I said I was staying with the Firm."

"Why are they leaving?" I loved the Firm. They'd brought us all sorts of amazing things.

Okay, and I was working my ass for those things. But… I'd never had opportunities like this before.

"Because… we are." I raised an eyebrow at him when he didn't continue, and he shook his head. "I shouldn't say. You're still one of their clients."

"So are you! Nick Carter, solo artist, is still with them. It's just Backstreet who left." I poked his stomach, making him smile a little. "You're a walking conflict of interest. But if Backstreet wants to go, why do you want to stay?"

He took my hand, playing with my fingers as he considered his answer. "Because… we… Hell, I can tell you exactly why we're leaving. When AJ went into rehab, the Firm wanted us to make up a cover story. Then they told us to bring Sisqo in to take AJ's place."

"They wanted you to do what?" No one could take AJ's place!

"Yeah…" Nick said, drawing the word out. "That was pretty much the end of it. And we never wanted to do a greatest hits record, and the Firm really didn't stand up for us with the record company. I mean, it's another album on our contract, but… it's not where we wanted to be at this point. I'm not sure that the Firm knows what to do with us now. They're great with breaking new bands. Hell, everything we did with Millennium was because of them. They made us into the biggest band in the world for a while. But, now… we're not on the same page."

"That makes sense," I considered. "Any publicity is new to us, so we love it."

"And I love working with Ken on my solo stuff. He's been great. I don't want to leave all that now. I don't want to have to start all over."

"You shouldn't have to. The stuff you've done already is great. Did you get to play it for the guys?"

Shit. Bad subject. Nick's face closed down. "They weren't interested. We spent all day arguing about the Firm."

"What's to argue? Sounds like it was a foregone conclusion."

I shrugged. "AJ and Brian wanted to drop them. Howie and Kevin weren't sure. I wanted to stay. So AJ and Brian spent all day hammering at us."

"I can see AJ being insistent," Rachel said. "But Brian? Shouldn't he just be praying that the Lord would show you the way?"

I laughed. "The Lord showed us the way via Brian's mouth. It was just… exhausting." By the afternoon, I had stopped caring. I knew I was staying with Ken, so I didn't really care where Backstreet was. We were taking a break, so what was the big deal?

"Is that all you did all day?"

"Well, part of the morning was talking about taking a break. We agreed on that part pretty quickly." We were sick of each other. I'd thought it was just me, but I could see that no one else wanted to be in that room, either. "Then it was all day about the Firm, and then I told them I was staying."

"Wait. You waited until the end of the day to tell the others that you were sticking with the Firm?"

"Yeah," I admitted. I knew that was a bad idea. Now.

"Is that when you got yelled at?"

I nodded, preparing myself to get yelled at again. But Rachel just laughed. "You set yourself up for this stuff sometimes, baby."

I pouted at her. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. We had so many different things on the table I knew that would just confuse things. So we took the final vote and I said 'Sure, leave the Firm, but I'm staying for my solo stuff,' and… then it was another hour of them talking at me." They seemed to think I was being a traitor to the great Backstreet cause now. Hell, at the beginning of the day, Kevin and Howie wanted to stick with the Firm, too! Why was everything my fault?

"How did you get free?"

"I nodded a lot." She laughed again. "I didn't back down, though. I made the right decision. Didn't I?" I needed someone to agree with me. And Rachel was one of the smartest people I knew. I trusted her judgement.

She nodded, smiling. "I think so. You have the right to be a little selfish. It would be different if they didn't want to take a break anyway. But they do, so why shouldn't you do what you want?"

"Right!" I knew I wasn't being an idiot. "Am I just supposed to wait around until the rest of them get bored?"

"No. You're at different points in your lives. That's allowed. In a year or so, you can look around and see where you all are. But the five of you have spent so much time together in the last ten years or so. You need a break."

I pulled on her hand, and she laid down next to me. "I'm sick of even talking about them."

Grinning, she kissed me. "We could move on to other topics now."

"I have to tell you something first."

"Okay," she said, a little concerned.

"Never take these jeans off." I ran my hand over her ass, making her laugh. That was good. Laughing was better than talking about my frustrating day or hers.

"Aren't they great? They were in the Grammy gift basket. Whoever made them must love me today, because I did a lot of press interviews."

"Who made them?"

"I didn't check. I'm sure they cost a fortune. Which is bad, because I need a dozen more pairs, so that I can wear them all the time."

Sitting up, I made her roll onto her stomach. I took that as a good excuse to continuing running my hands over her ass as she giggled, and I found the tag. "Seven."

"Not a dozen?"

"That's the label, silly. And I bet after today, you can have all the free Seven jeans you want."

"There are some perks to being famous, I guess," she said, looking over her shoulder at me. Falling next to her again, I kissed her fully, concentrating on the feel of her lips as they slid against mine. She wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me into her again. This was what I wanted. I needed to lose myself in her, and then I'd feel like my world was okay again.

He kissed me fiercely, tugging on my T-shirt and growling as he sucked on my exposed breasts. Suddenly all I wanted was to concentrate on this. Him. Us. We pulled off clothes as they got in the way, quickly exploring each other like it was uncharted territory. His body had gotten softer since the tour ended and he wasn't dancing every day, but I didn't mind. I liked feeling his weight against me, between my legs as he pushed them open so he could taste me.

"This is what I need, Nick. So good," I panted as he licked me, suckling on my skin and making me beg him not to stop. As soon as I came, he was prepared, sinking inside me and prolonging my orgasm as he kissed his way up to my waiting mouth.

"God, I love you so much, baby," he gasped. I rolled on top of him as soon as I'd gathered my strength back and he smiled up at me, running his strong hands up to my waist and holding on as I moved carefully, helping me find the rhythm that he needed.

We needed.

Was it wrong that we were dependant on this connection? That I was so addicted to him like this? All month I'd dreamt about being back here with him, connected in this way that made me feel like I was the only thing that mattered in his life. But how long would this feeling last?

"Stop, Rache," he hissed, arching up against me as his fingers found my clit again. "Stop thinking and just feel. Feel me, baby."

I couldn't form a coherent thought as he pinched and rubbed me, chasing his own release. I didn't want to think, I just wanted to be content with this feeling. I wanted to bottle it and take it with me always. Part of him with me forever.

His hips pushed against mine a final time and I collapsed against him, kissing his chest as he gasped for air, trying to catch his breath. We held onto each other for a long time, lying together content as we came down from our high. Finally, he slipped out of me and moved away to clean up the condom.

But he didn't come back to bed. Instead he picked up the phone, a playful smile on his lips as he ordered us dinner. Yeah, I might need my strength for later.

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