Oreos for Breakfast: Chapter 28

Oreos For Breakfast: Chapter 31
By the Paperbag Princess and Pumpkin Coach

Clockwatching
Lately we're running out of time, aren't we?

"Anna!" I liked some of Nick's friends. Well, one. And Tony wasn't bad. So two.

Nick was doing the manly back-slap thing with Vinnie and Tony, and Anna ran over to me. "Rachel! I didn't know you'd be here."

"I think it's better that I didn't give Vinnie the time to plot against me."

"Good plan," she said, and I scowled at her. I didn't think she'd agree with me. She laughed, looking over at them. "He is allergic to commitment, and doesn't understand anyone who might think it's a reasonable idea. You, my dear, are a threat."

To what? I didn't have a chance to ask, because Vinnie spotted me. "Oh, good, Anna has someone to play with."

"I thank my lucky stars every day that I got away from your charm, Vincent. Rachel and I plan to stick on the three of you like glue."

Nick smiled, coming over to us. "I can't let Rachel out of my sight, or all the boating guys will be flirting with her."

I looked up at him. "Doubtful, when I have your name all over my body."

I could support this boat thing. Really. I just wish I got better clothes for the job. Nick had provided me with a baseball hat of my very own today. Great.

"Hey!" Anna complained. "I want some Nick Carter swag."

"Will any of it fit you?" Vinnie asked, but Anna ignored him. Three minutes in his presence and I already wanted to kill him.

"I have the complete set," I said to Anna. "I'll share." I started back towards the bedroom, and Nick caught my hand.

"We've got to leave in a couple minutes."

"I know. We'll be right back."

Maybe Anna and I could hang out here at the house all day while the boys went to the boat race. That was the nice thing about this race being in Marathon. It was right down the street.

"How did you survive the drive down here?" I asked Anna as soon as we were in the bedroom with the door shut.

"My god, how many t-shirts does he think you need?"

"He likes seeing his name all over me, he says. Seriously, how do you deal with Vinnie? I need some tips."

Anna picked up a tank top and considered it for a second. "Ignore him. He's a little boy. The more attention he gets, the more he'll act out. This is really ugly."

"I was not considered on any of the design decisions. James will kill me if any pictures of me surface looking like this. I have trouble ignoring Vinnie."

She picked up another shirt. "I've been honing my ignoring Vinnie skills for years now. I need scissors."

I picked them up from the dresser and handed them to her. I'd already taken scissors to some of the Nick Carter Racing gear. Nick liked the lingerie last night.

"Does he hate everyone's girlfriends like this, or is it just me?"

Anna sat down, cutting out the neck of her chosen t-shirt. "He hates you especially. You threaten his best girl magnet."

"Can't he get girls on his own? He's pretty good-looking."

She looked up at me. "He's freaking hot. But he's lazy. When Nick's around, the girls flock to him."

"He'll love the boat race. Suddenly, hundreds of cute girls have decided the power boats are the sexiest things out there."

Laughing, she pulled the shirt on over her tank top. It hung on me like a sack, but now it caught all of Anna's curves. "That looks so much better on you than me," I told her, and she smiled, looking in the mirror.

"I can tart that shirt up for you if you'd like. Is there anyone worth pursuing at this thing?"

"Besides Nick? No. They're all old guys."

"Rich old guys to afford these boats, right? Let me at 'em. I need a rich starter husband."

"Nick, you have to ditch Rachel." Vinnie hissed to me, and I looked at him.

"What?"

"She and Anna are scaring all the real girls away!"

I looked towards the bar, where Rachel and Anna were getting us more beers. Good thing home was just down the road, because I'd already had a few beers. When the hell was my race?

Rachel caught me looking at her and smiled at me. I grinned back until Vinnie poked me. "That look is why the girls won't come near you!"

I shrugged. "So? I have a girl. I don't want another one." I had the prettiest girl here. Woman. Lady. Whatever.

"Do you have to fuck it up for me and Tony?"

"I'm not part of this fight!" Tony protested, and Vinnie glared at him.

"What do you do when I'm on tour, Vin? Am I your only source of females?" I waved my hand around us. We were standing on the bridge, watching the race, so it wasn't exactly a crowded bar, but still. "There are plenty of girls here."

"They're all here for you."

They were, weren't they? I smiled at him, and he rolled his eyes. "So, pimp me out. You've done it before. Tell them we'll be at the Brass Monkey tonight. Promise them that I'm lonely or something. Whatever. Stop bugging me."

"Tell Rachel to go home or something."

"You are so fucking lazy. Do some work on your own. I want Rachel here. And Anna. Anna!" I said, as she headed back toward us with beers. "I love Anna!"

"You love the beer, superstar."

"And you, too," I said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and taking one of the beers out of her hands.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You never write, you never call…"

I kissed her forehead. "But you still bring me beer. Now that's a real friend."

"Damn straight."

"Thanks, Rachel," Tony said, taking a beer from her. Vinnie took one, too, but he didn't thank her.

"Worried about your boy, Rachel?" he asked her, motioning towards me and Anna. Rachel laughed at him.

"He should be so lucky."

I let go of Anna, taking Rachel's free hand and pulling her over to us. "The two hottest girls here have my name all over them. I rock."

"You're drunk, bunny," Rachel said, smiling up at me.

"That too," I agreed, kissing her. I liked her in my clothes. Last night, she'd cut up one of the shirts so that it just said 'Nick Carter' across her breasts. I'd ripped it off of her eventually. Could she make another one of those?

Disclaimer | Sudden Silence Website
Feedback to Authors | Tragical Fiction (home)

Subscribe to receive an email when this site is updated!

Powered by groups.yahoo.com