Oreos for Breakfast: Chapter 38

Oreos For Breakfast: Chapter 38
By the Paperbag Princess and Pumpkin Coach

I looked out the window, contemplating the view. When I’d first sat down, I could see the Shrine Auditorium below me. Now I had a great view of the 105. The 709? The 212? The 911? Why did all highways in LA have a ‘the’ in front of them? Highways on the east coast had names. The Long Island Expressway. The New Jersey Turnpike. It was much easier to remember which road was which with actual names. I got all the numbers confused out here. Which had led to me getting lost often while we’d been in LA recording the album.

I hated LA. I didn’t understand it, and I could never find anything. And everything I wanted was forty minutes from anything else I wanted. Why had I picked LA that night six months ago when Nick and I had made this date?

Because I’d still had that memory of Paris Hilton lingering in my brain, and she was the embodiment of LA- pink and plastic and blond. Nothing about her was real. Everything was overdone. Her heels were too high and her skirts too short and her hair too blond.

Maybe part of me had known then that Nick would end up out here. He’d always laughed at me while I complained about being in LA. He liked the weather and driving everywhere and having everyone in the business in the same area. Paris was the queen of Los Angeles, and he liked being her king.

Okay, maybe more like her consort. I’d read a couple of gossip pieces that he was refused admittance to some clubs after he’d broken up with Paris. He didn’t have any power of his own out here.

I wondered what it was like for him to be back here, post-Paris. The city probably looked pretty different when he was just another struggling musician playing gigs at small clubs.

Would Paris go to his show tonight? I took another sip of my drink, considering. Nah. In the few weeks since they’d broken up, she hadn’t said a word about him. She got her friends to spread a lot of rumors that Nick had beaten her up, but she herself hadn’t said anything.

Was it sad that I knew that?

I could see it now… he’d have a drink with me, then Paris would be at his show, and tomorrow the papers would be full of stories about their happy reconciliation.

Did I want those stories to be about our happy reconciliation?

I caught myself before I thought about those headlines too much. No, this was not about getting back together. This was about just seeing him. Catching up on our lives. AJ had told me that Nick was fine after breaking up with Paris, but I still worried about him. There had been a lot of terrible articles about him during that whole mess. I knew none of them were true, but they still had to hurt.

He was the one who had Anna call me to see if we could move up the meeting… so where the hell was he?

It was only five minutes before six. He wasn’t late yet. In five minutes he’d be late. Nick was always late, anyway. I knew he was coming because otherwise Anna wouldn’t have called me.

Unless she had finally realized her evil plan to have Nick all to herself. I could picture it like a scene out of a movie, in this town of movie-making. He was about to leave the hotel to come see me and she’d run out, stopping him as he opened the door of the cab. Their eyes would lock and he’d realize that he didn’t need me because he truly loved Anna. Anna had been there with him all along – before me, before all the other women in his life. She knew the true Nick that even I didn’t know.

That wasn’t exactly an evil plan. Anna would be good for Nick. She could have him. Maybe I should call her after he left and tell her that she could make her move. Was it wrong to offer advice to another woman on how to score with your ex-boyfriend?

I had to stop these bizarre fantasies of my Nick with other women. It had been a bad week, starting in New York with losing my beloved cat, and ending in soulless LA filming the video, and I was strung out and tired. I should have cancelled. I might not be up for this.

Shit. That was him, saying something to the hostess, and then turning to look around the bar. I felt blood rush to my cheeks as I watched him searching for me. His blonde hair was spiky and his bright blue shirt made his eyes sparkle even from across the room. He licked his lips like he always did when he was nervous.

Our eyes met, and I couldn’t catch my breath.

Shit. This might not be going according to plan.

I didn’t want him back. This was just an automatic response to seeing him again. It had been six months since we’d been face to face, after all. My body was just reacting like it always did when I saw him.

Racing heart, smiling, overwhelming urge to throw myself into his arms. Totally normal.

He told the hostess he’d spotted me, and started towards my table. I stood up as he approached, taking him in.

He was still gorgeous. That much hadn’t changed.

He smiled at me, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was nervous just like I was. And probably not planning on taking me back just like I wasn’t planning on taking him back.

“Hi,” he said in a quiet voice, and I smiled at him.

“Hi.”

Should we hug? Shake hands? Neither one of us knew what to do, so I took his hands and pulled him closer to me, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. He smelled good. Some cologne I didn’t know. Had being with Paris taught him to wear cologne? My Nick never would have bothered.

“Thanks for coming early,” he said, sitting down across from me as I took my seat. He seemed too close and too far away all at the same time. Did he want to be closer to me? Or further away?

“No problem,” I answered, trying not to overanalyze every movement he made. “We finished up around three today. I wasn’t busy. What time is your show?”

“I need to be back there by eight, and it’s about half an hour away. What are you drinking?” he asked, looking down at my drink on the glass tabletop. “Is that neon?”

“It’s just a light,” I said, showing him the bottom of my glass, and how the light at the bottom made the whole thing light up.

“Cool,” he said, and we both smiled. That was better. That was more like how we used to be, not like nervous strangers on a first date.

“I need something that comes in one of those,” he said, looking at the drinks menu, and I leaned over, pointing out which crazy martini I’d gotten.

“Have you eaten?” I asked. I should really eat something, since I was nearly done with my first martini and we’d been too busy at the video shoot today to really eat much. The last thing I needed to be right now was drunk and silly.

Not that I could entirely handle this sober, either.

“No,” he said. “Want to split an appetizer or something?”

We picked three. That was fine. We could talk and I’d have food to play with, instead of looking at him too much.

I’d really forgotten how lovely he was. He’d aged a bit in the last six months somehow. Maybe it was just the clothes. Jeans that fit and the shirt that made his eyes that shade of blue that I remembered. But his hotness was no reason to take him back.

The waitress took our order, and I had to look at Rachel again. It was better when I had the menu to play with, because I had forgotten how beautiful she was. Her hair was a little shorter than the last time I’d seen her, and I wondered if it was a recent change because she kept playing with it. I imagined how soft it would be if I ran my hands through it as I held her closer. That little half kiss wasn’t enough. I needed more of her than that.

No. I couldn’t think about such things. No way could I take her back. Not that she wanted me, anyway. She seemed nervous, but not like she was nervous because she wanted me back. She knew all she had to do was say the word and I was hers. Well, that used to be true. Not now.

I could pick someone up after the show and that would have to do. Being with Rachel again was just too big and scary. She was better off without me, and I could sense that we both knew that. I just had to get through the next hour or so, and then we’d say goodbye and part as friends. I owed her that much.

“So, tell me about touring as a solo artist,” she said, the lights of the city casting shadows on her face as the room slowly turned. She was wearing a sparkly silver tank top under her jacket and the lights played off it, distracting me from her smile momentarily. This was a really cool hotel with elevators on the outside and this futuristic bar that revolved at the very top.

“It’s great,” I told her. “It’s amazing doing a whole show on my own. At first it was hard… just singing for that long, you know? But now everyone sings along. Not just to the Backstreet stuff, either. It’s so cool.”

“Of course they sing along. You have good fans.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure if they’d actually show up. There was much debate on the message boards about how I was being unfaithful to the fellas or something. Like we’re married.” I couldn’t help but sneer the last bit. Stupid fans didn’t know the truth. The fellas didn’t want to be with me now, anyway. I wasn’t doing anything wrong.

“Well, that’s the sign of the end, isn’t it? Splinter groups and solo albums.”

I smiled at her. “You know what it’s like. The guys all told me how great your solo show was.” I could see Rachel breaking out on her own. James would go with her, but it would be the Rachel Connor: Rockstar show.

Maybe then I’d be allowed to go. It killed me that I hadn’t gotten to see her solo show.

She shook her head. “It wasn’t solo. And don’t believe my press. All is fine in Sudden Silence land.” She paused for a moment at that and I couldn’t read the look on her face. Were things not always good in Sudden Silence land? “It was me and Shirley, and Gwen for a bit. And all we did was covers, and it was one night for charity. Not like you and your whole tour.”

“I hear things, you know,” I said, teasing a little. “I know your two solo songs were the highlight of the night.”

“Who said that? AJ? He’s biased, because one of those songs is his.”

“He mentioned that.” I’d tried not to freak out that Rachel had written a song for AJ. She wrote songs all the time, about friends and boyfriends… hell, I’m sure Bates even had a song on two to his name. I just hated that she wasn’t writing songs about me any more.

Well… she’s probably written something about me for the new album. Angry break-up songs, I suspected. I hated that now I was the subject of angry break-up songs.

Rachel smiled. “I told him that I write songs all the time, and it wasn’t a big deal, but he was pretty excited by it. Did he play it for you?”

“The song? No. Did you record the show?” I’d thought of trying to find a copy of it online. But Anna was the one that helped me with those things and I didn’t want to fess up that I was that curious.

“Yeah, but we recorded ‘Sober’ the night I wrote it. Just a demo. AJ has a copy.”

‘Sober’. Definitely an AJ song.

“No. He didn’t mention that.” Suddenly I remembered how AJ had teased me when he had a copy of her doing a Backstreet song when we’d first met. Before I really knew her and was only crushed out. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

She smiled, at a memory I didn’t share. “Get him to tell you about recording with JC sometime. It was pretty funny.”

Our waitress came back with our drinks before I could ask Rachel about recording with JC.

Recording with JC? AJ had recorded with JC? What was wrong with the world?

I was glad I had a drink, because I needed something to do with my hands. I kept wanting to reach over and touch her. Old habits die hard.

“Anyway. We did record the charity show, but it’s taking forever to get all the rights cleared, since it was covers. I’m not sure that it’ll ever see the light of day.”

“Is that why you’re here? Charity stuff?” I asked taking a drink. I needed some alcohol in my system quickly.

She shook her head, finishing her first drink and then carefully pouring her new one into the fun lighted glass as she answered my question. “No, we shot the video for the first single on the new album and some press. We go to Japan the day after tomorrow.”

“When does the new album drop? I thought it’d be out by now.” She shot me a look like she was surprised I didn’t know their album was delayed. I’d heard that, but I didn’t want her to think I spent the last six months watching her every move online or in the papers.

I had, but she didn’t need to know that.

“April. Damn,” she said, spilling some of her drink and licking it off her hand.

Shit. Did she have to be so cute with the lighted glass? And then lick things? That was so Rachel - cute one minute and wanton sex goddess the next.

“April? I had expected it by now, since you were recording last summer.”

She gave me that look again like she was trying to decide whether I was pulling her leg. Hopefully I was a better actor now after a few lessons for that TV show I’d done a few months ago. She didn’t push me, though and just wiped her hand on a napkin before explaining. “Oh, right. We scrapped all of that. It sucked.”

“It did not!” I’d heard most of those songs and they were good!

Maybe. I didn’t really remember. I wasn’t paying much attention to anyone’s stuff other than my own last summer, which was unfair to her.

She held up her glass. “It sucked, and EMI agreed. To new beginnings.”

I smiled, clinking neon plastic martini glasses with her. “Is the new stuff better?”

“It’s… different,” she said, taking a drink and setting her glass down again carefully, trying not to spill again. “Darien wrote the single.”

“What? Darien doesn’t write songs!” At least not that I ever remembered.

“I know!” she said, making me smile. “It was very weird. It’s called ‘Nice,’ because he finally told Mari he loves her - on my advice, I’d like to note - and then Jeremy finished it!”

“Jeremy wrote a song called ‘Nice’?” I scoffed, taking another gulp of my drink. As she talked about their music her eyes sparkled and she moved more. Like just thinking about it animated her. It was adorable that she still managed not to be jaded by the business.

“I know!” she said, making me laugh this time, her tone was so shocked. “Lola has him all happy and shit.”

“Lola?” I asked, almost chocking on my drink. “Lola Lola? Your tour manager Lola?”

Rachel gave me a cute ‘I know, isn’t it crazy?’ look. “You’re so behind on the Sudden Silence gossip! Yeah, Lola and Jeremy. They hooked up in December, and she hasn’t killed him yet, which is really impressive. And Darien and Mari just opened a restaurant.”

I almost blurted out that their fans hadn’t figured that out, but then remembered that I wasn’t supposed to be keeping tabs on her.

“And JC came out,” I reminded her, moving back to gossip that was general knowledge, and her face glowed at the mention of it.

“That’s the best news. They’re just stupid happy.”

“And you?” I had to ask. “I saw you on all the gossip sites with some lawyer. What? No stockbrokers would return your calls?”

I snickered. I’d wondered if Nick had been reading my press as much as I was following his. Although, to be fair, you had to be a hermit not to hear about Nick and Paris over the last few months. They were the lead story on every entertainment show and most magazines.

“Ben. His name is Ben, and yeah, not a stockbroker. I have determined that I do not really want a safe, stable stockbroker – or lawyer - no matter how much I may have talked about it.”

“No?” he questioned, looking a little… hopeful? Relieved? Something. I couldn’t quite read his expression or his body language. He kept looking away from me, watching the buildings as they moved by.

“Ben was lovely. And I did the charity show because his mom is on the board of the organization. We’d already broken up by that point, actually, and I wanted to be nice. But… it didn’t work out. He only listened to classical music before he met me.”

Nick laughed at that and I told him the abridged story of meeting Ben and him having no idea who I was. I left out the parts about how much I liked that and how it might have worked if I hadn’t been rebounding. And I was pretty sure that last time I saw him he’d wanted things to work out.

“Speaking of gossip pages…” I said, and he groaned.

“I know…” he started, waving his hands in front of him as if warding away evil spirits. But then looked at me and a serious expression crept across his face. “I need to thank you.”

“For what?” I asked, taking another sip of my drink, hoping I looked unconcerned, and not like I was burning with curiosity. And maybe a little bit of jealousy.

“For sticking up for me during bruisegate.”

I had to laugh at his made-up word. “Bruisegate? Let me guess… Anna came up with that one.”

He smiled. “Yeah. We had to laugh about it eventually.”

“She just did it to fuck with you, didn’t she? Paris, I mean. Not Anna.”

He nodded, and I decided not to ask any more. All I needed to know was contained in that nod. Nick’s eyes closed for a second and I could see the sadness in his face. She’d really hurt him. Maybe he loved her, maybe he didn’t, but she’d hurt him by the way it had ended.

“I didn’t really defend you.” I said. “I just said you didn’t do it. I didn’t take any other questions about it.”

“That was enough. Thank you,” he said sincerely.

I had the feeling no one else in his life had stuck up for him. I thought about that for a second and remembered how his mother had acted that time he’d been arrested in Tampa. Somehow I knew she hadn’t leapt to his defense, no matter how much she’d said so to the tabloids.

Our waitress came over with our food, and we were quiet while she set it down, and then making some aimless chit chat about how good it looked.

“So…” I said, carefully arranging a tiny cheeseburger on my plate. “Tell me something else about Paris Hilton.”

“What?” he asked, almost choking on a tortilla chip covered with spinach dip.

I looked at him. “Something. That’s what I meant. Just… something.”

To explain how you could have gone out with her the night after we broke up. How you could have stayed with her for six weeks. Fall in love with her. Anything. Something.

It was his turn to carefully arrange food on his plate, and he put just the right amount of ketchup on his tiny burger.

“She is very… pink,” he said, after careful consideration.

My turn to nearly choke. Maybe food wasn’t such a good idea. “Pink?”

He looked up at me, smiling a little. “Everything’s pink. Her house and her clothes and her bedroom is…” He trailed off a bit. I didn’t really want to know about her bedroom, and he knew that. “Well, her bedroom is like pink exploded.”

“Six weeks and all you can say is ‘pink’?”

He shrugged, poking another chip at the spinach dip and breaking it. “I could say ‘stupid,’ but that’s more me than her. Not that she’s smart. But I was really stupid to get pulled into it all.”

That was pretty much what I’d expected to hear. Part of me had hoped a little that he’d tell me she had more depth than her image showed. That he thought she was nice girl and he’d been happy while they were together.

Then again, bruisegate had pretty much let me know that couldn’t be true.

“Did she blow your mind?” I joked, referring to one of his songs, which was actually about Willa, and he smiled, but still pretended to be really interested in the cheese plate.

“I didn’t think it could get worse than Willa. But… it did. She even spent my money!”

He sounded really annoyed and surprised by that, and I had to laugh. At him. Just a little.

It was good to know that I still won. I was still his only good girlfriend ever.

“All those millions and she spent your money?”

“Not on cars and stuff. But I paid for everything. And presents to make up for fights. And she has expensive taste. Really expensive.”

“That does not surprise me.”

He looked up at me, secure now that we were making fun of her. “Like, stuff I’d never heard of expensive. Tiffany’s was for the cheap gifts. She had boutiques put things on hold so I could go buy them for her!”

“Ben was like that. The expensive taste part,” I clarified, slicing off a bit of Brie. “He came from money. Old money. And his parents have this amazing place on the Upper East Side. Oh! This is a good one.”

I looked over at him, and he was smiling, waiting for my story. Because he knew from my tone that it would be a good story. I loved that about him. He always liked my stories, and I knew he’d always get the jokes.

Ben didn’t always get my jokes.

“Ben took me to his family’s big holiday party, and when I walked into their place, I realized I’d been there before. Because I used to work for their catering company!”

“No.”

I laughed at his disbelieving tone. “Seriously. We did it for at least two years. Darien tended bar and created the Hanukah-tini for them, which they still serve.”

“What is a Hanukah-tini?”

“It’s blue and silver. Like the festival of lights. Vodka, Blue Curacao, frozen blueberries instead of olives.”

“Sounds good. Think they could make me one of those here?” he wondered, pointing at his nearly empty glass.

There were blueberries on the cheese plate, and I tossed one into his drink. “There.”

“Not the same thing, Rache,” he said, fishing out the blueberry and popping it into his mouth.

He had such a pretty mouth.

“So, did Ben get to go to your holiday party?”

“No,” I said, pulling out the drinks menu to decide what to have next. One more drink. That would be more than enough.

Ben didn’t go to her Christmas Eve party. I still had that. I couldn’t help but compare everything she said about him to me. To us. And I realized that the thought of there still being an ‘us’ made my heart beat a little faster.

“He was skiing with his friends,” she said, considering the menu. “I joined him after Christmas and ended up screwing up my knee and… screwing up things with Ben, too.”

“What did you do to your knee?” I really wanted to know what had happened with Ben, but I knew I couldn’t ask. We were doing good here. I didn’t want to press too hard. I liked laughing with her and seeing the smile in her eyes.

“Skied into a tree. Turns out, I suck at skiing. Who knew?”

“Don’t you hate skiing?” I remembered that from last Christmas, because Colleen was going on a ski trip with her friends.

She smiled at me, nodding. “Yeah. I fucking loathe skiing now. Never again! Give me a beach and a book and I’m good.”

I laughed at her tone, and the waitress came to check on us. We both ordered another drink. Drinking was bad. Rachel was way too cute when she was drunk. She was being funny and adorable, and I could not remember why I wasn’t with her any more.

Because I was an asshole. Right.

“How’s your family?” I asked, mostly to just keep her smiling, because she always smiled when she talked about them.

“Good,” she said. “Everyone’s good. Yours?”

Mine was a disaster, and I was surprised she didn’t know that. “Aaron talks to Katie sometimes, you know,” I said.

“I do know,” Rachel answered slowly. “And her parents don’t, so tell him to watch his step or I’ll get Jon on his ass.”

“Her parents don’t know?”

Her eyebrow rose up as she gave me her warning look. “She is under strict orders that if it moves beyond emails she needs to tell me. She is not seeing that boy without my permission.”

“He won’t try to molest her or anything,” I defended, trying not to laugh at her stern mom tone.

“Well… the Carters are heartbreakers. I don’t want her to get all caught up with a rock star. She should learn from my mistakes.”

What was I supposed to say to that? I knew I’d broken her heart, but… a mistake? My stomach fell and suddenly the last cheeseburger didn’t look very tempting.

“Mom filed for divorce,” I said, maybe just to prove how fucked up my family was to get sympathy points. But that might backfire. Her nice family should probably just stay far away from us.

“Oh, no.” She moved forward and put a hand on my arm, but pulled it away just as quickly, like she wasn’t sure if she could touch me anymore. “ I’m – am I sorry?”

I had to laugh. She could always make me laugh. Even when my family was exploding, Rachel could find a way to make me laugh about it.

“You’re not anything. She filed, and they fought over Aaron, and then Dad dropped his girlfriend and all was forgiven.”

“Dad had a girlfriend?”

“Old habits die hard.”

I’d told her about Dad’s affairs, and how Mom always forgave him. But I’d thought he’d stopped with all that when I’d still been with Rachel.

“Why do they always fight over Aaron?” Rachel asked as she settled back into her chair. She knew everything about my stupid family. I had forgotten that. She hated how my parents would put Aaron in the middle of their fights. She hated how they used to do it to me, too.

“Because… the girls will pick sides, but he can’t. And because he makes all the money. He wanted me to become his guardian,” I said.

I hadn’t even told Anna that. I was too embarrassed that I’d said ‘no’. I knew I should take care of my brothers and sisters, but I couldn’t get my own shit together, let alone take care of them.

So why had I told Rachel? I stared into my drink, afraid to see the look on her face.

“That’s not very fair to you, is it?” she said, her voice quiet. “Twenty-three isn’t old enough to take care of a teenager. And it just pulls you back into the family drama, and you don’t need to be there again. You help them more from where you are now.”

That’s why I told Rachel. Because she made my cowardly decision sound really smart and mature.

“It would have gotten him away from them fighting over him, though.”

“No, then they would have fought about you, too. I know you want to save Aaron, but… that wasn’t the way to do it.”

Our waitress appeared with our drinks, saving me from having to say anything.

I wasn’t sure what I’d say. Besides that I’d really missed how Rachel could make sense of my stupid life. Anna could, too, but… she wasn’t Rachel. It was Rachel I’d wanted to call after Aaron or one of the girls would call me with the latest Carter family saga update. I never even mentioned the drama to Paris. Her family hated me as it was. I was never going to be good enough for their little princess.

The waitress took some of our dishes, and then we were quiet for a moment. “So, is Anna keeping you on the straight and narrow on tour?” Rachel asked, changing the subject, and I smiled at her.

“Sorta?” I tried to say, and she laughed.

“Or not. Is she the only girl on tour with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, I know her pain.” Nick laughed, and I smiled at him. That was better. I knew he was really upset about his family, and I wanted to talk to him more about it, but… I didn’t get to do that anymore. I couldn’t fix him. I had to leave that to Anna.

“It’s hard being the only girl on tour,” I said. “You have no idea. We have higher standards of decency than most guys. At least you have tour buses and stuff. Better than just the van with us.”

“Bus,” he said. “Just one.”

“For all of you? Really?”

He smiled at me. “Eight of us. Ten,” he revised, counting in his head.

“Are you okay?” I asked, joking. “Are you in a… bunk?”

I’d loved the bedroom on his Backstreet bus. It was still the height of rock star excess to me to have one bus for each of the Boys. Sudden Silence shared one bus and we were fine with that.

He smiled at my tone. “We’re all in bunks. We don’t even get hotels half the time.”

I gave him a horrified gasp, and he laughed.

Chuckled. Almost giggled. I fucking loved his giggle.

“Hey, I’m paying for the whole thing out of pocket. Gotta cut some corners,” he defended.

“Jive didn’t pay for a tour?” JC had heard that and reported back, but I didn’t really believe it.

His face closed off at that. “I’m not the successful ex-boy bander.”

Oh. Ouch. There was a little Justin angst there.

“Jive are fucking idiots,” I said, and his face softened a little.

Did he know about me and Justin? I didn’t want to ask. I knew JC had told Anna, and I was pretty sure that Anna would have told Nick. Or maybe she didn’t want to hurt him. Or maybe it was all part of her plot to get Nick all to herself.

“They are idiots,” he agreed with me readily.

“Fuck them, though. You didn’t make this album for them. You made it for you, and that’s a good thing. Is it amazing to be singing your own songs every night?”

He smiled for real at that. “It’s awesome. I just… it’s only been like three weeks, but this is the most fun I’ve ever had on tour. The actual performing part of it. I get up there and sing my heart out and it just flies by. I fucking love it.”

“Do you miss the dance steps?” I teased, and he laughed.

“No. It’s so much better to just sing. And you know it’s just my crazy fans who are out there every night, so they’re singing along and I can actually see them and reach out and touch them and talk to them. I love being in the smaller venues and getting to see people.”

“I miss that,” I said. “The No Doubt tour was the biggest thing we’ve ever done, and I felt like the audience was so far away. Gwen can get everyone on their feet, but we just had our pockets of Sudden Silence groupies.”

“You have plenty of fans, Rache,” he said, and I shrugged.

He knew that, I realized. He’d been at one of the No Doubt shows, and he’d gotten backstage with a ring in his pocket and James had sent him away.

We definitely didn’t need to talk about that. I changed the subject.

“We do. We’re doing a club tour in April, though, when the album’s released.”

“It will probably be a madhouse.”

“The record company doesn’t think so.”

“No?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink. He was almost done, and I knew we weren’t getting another round. He needed to go soon.

“The album is a little weird. Very ballad heavy. And a lot of Jeremy songs. It’s not the pop album they wanted.”

“Pop isn’t very big right now. That’s okay.”

“Backstreet ever getting back together?” I asked the question every Backstreet fan was dying to know the answer to.

He shrugged. “We keep trying to, then something happens. Bailee is just a few months old. Brian doesn’t exactly want to tour.”

“Yeah. Kevin tells me Brian’s a great dad.”

“Of course,” Nick said, like it was completely obvious. “Leighanne’s a little overprotective.”

“Of course,” I answered, echoing his tone, and we smiled at each other.

“Shit,” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Sorry, I have to…”

I waved him off as he flipped open his phone. “Hey, Ken. Yeah. Okay. Fine,” he said, giving me a quick glance. “Nothing. Okay. Ten minutes.”

“I need to leave soon,” he said, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“Don’t want to disappoint the fans,” I said, and he nodded.

“No. And everyone gets freaked out if I’m out of sight for too long.”

I smiled. “It gets that way on tour.”

“It’s worse since it’s just me. With the fellas, there are four others they have to find before they realize I’m gone. And usually AJ was the lost one.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said. I’d lost AJ myself. “But it’s all about you now, baby.”

“It’s weird.”

He looked around for our waitress to get the check.

“Can I come with you?” The words were out of my mouth before my brain had thought of them. Did I really want to go with him? Yes.

He looked back at me like my words didn’t make sense to him. “What?”

“Can I come to your show?” I said slower. Yeah, I wanted to see him on stage. I wanted to share this last thing with him. I was there when it all happened – when the songs were just ideas – and I wanted to see them from the audience. I’d just planned to go back to my room and assess how broken my heart was after seeing him. I was afraid it was pretty damned broken.

“Yeah,” he said, starting to smile, his eyes sparkling as it reached his eyes. “Of course. Howie’s coming, too. And you can see Anna.”

I could feel myself grinning. “Great.”

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