Oreos for Breakfast: Chapter 38

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

I still knew her number. It had been two cell phones ago that we’d been together, but I still knew her number.

“Hello?” she asked, her voice cautious.

“Just me, buttercup,” I told her.

“I was hoping,” she said, her voice happy, and I could imagine the smile on her face. At least I hoped it was the smile that was just mine, her eyes soft when she realized it was me.

How long was it going to take me to get to her? How long had it been since she’d told me she loved me? An hour? I checked the clock on the dash. More like two. I needed to be with her again.

She was still talking, wasn’t she?

“I didn’t know the number,” she said.

“I’ve changed my number a couple of times,” I admitted. When I trashed stuff post-Paris, I’d included that cell phone.

“I’ll make sure to save this, then. Where are you?”

“I just left the venue.” Should I tell her I’d kissed Anna?

Maybe later. Or never. Never would be good.

“This is nice,” she said. “We can talk for a bit before you get here.”

“And then have sex.”

She laughed. “Right. In about an hour.”

“Getting here wasn’t that bad,” I said.

“We were in the car for a while,” she answered. “But we were together, so I was okay with that.”

“You were? Even in the car? Before…” Before, like, the best minute of my life? Even better than that moment on the beach two summers ago. Two summers ago, I didn’t know anything. I just wanted her, and being with her was better than I could have imagined then. Now I knew what I was missing, and I wanted it all back. Right now.

“Of course in the car. I was…” Her voice lowered almost like she was ashamed of what she was saying, “I missed you, Nick. I hadn’t really realized that until I saw you again, but I love talking to you and being with you. So a drive in the car was cool, just the two of us, talking about stupid stuff.”

“Speaking of drives- what are you doing tomorrow?”

“Driving to Vegas with you?” she said, her voice sounding hopeful.

I grinned. “You don’t leave for Japan tomorrow?”

“The day after. I’ll worry about my flight then. Where are you after Vegas?”

“I don’t know. San Diego? Anahiem? I forget. Back in California.”

“We’ll figure it out later. We have plenty of other stuff to talk about first. What time do you need to be in Vegas?”

“I don’t have to do anything until eight.” Right? Anna had told me a bunch of stuff about where to meet them and when, but I didn’t really remember any of it. I had other things to think about.

“The map I have says it’s about four hours, so we don’t have to leave until after noon.”

“Did you print out a map?” I asked, wondering where the map Anna had given me was.

Anna had kind of taken over a lot of the things that Rachel used to do for me. That was going to get weird soon, wasn’t it?

“Of course,” she said, making me laugh.

“So did Anna.”

“Of course,” she agreed. “Anna is good. What happened that you gave her such a nice present?”

Shit. What did Rachel know?

Everything. She’d read the blogs eventually, and see that I’d kissed Anna in the parking lot.

But… that was okay. We needed to tell each other everything, and Rachel wouldn’t be mad about Anna. Paris, maybe, but not Anna.

“Nick?” Rachel asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Sorry, buttercup. Traffic. What did you say?”

“Do we need to talk about Anna and the necklace?”

Oh. The necklace. “The necklace was because her bass got broken, and she was really upset by it.”

“Why?”

I considered for a moment, and then sighed. “Can we talk about this later?” It was just so complicated… buying the bass for Anna’s eighteenth birthday, then how upset she was when it broke, and that was the night I’d broken up with Paris, and…

I didn’t want to think about any of that now. I just wanted to be happy with Rachel.

“Sure,” Rachel said. “We can talk about Anna later if we can talk about Paris now.”

He groaned. “Really? Paris?”

“Paris or Anna, you pick.” I was way more curious about Anna. But we’d already established that I was way better than Paris, so Paris was safer.

“Neither.”

I laughed at him. “Hey, we gotta talk about something while you’re driving over here.”

“I could probably distract you with other stuff,” he assured me.

“Really? You want our first sexual experience back together to be phone sex? Isn’t it better to see and feel that live and in person?”

He gave me my favorite helpless, horny little whimper. “It’s better than talking about Paris,” he tried, but we both knew I’d won.

“We need to do it sometime. Talk about her now and then you get to come here and we’ll fuck it all away.”

“I love you, Rachel,” he said quietly. “I really, really, really do. More than anyone I’ve ever known, and I never stopped.”

“Which probably sucked for Paris.”

He snorted. “Paris didn’t care about me enough that I could hurt her.”

“No? She talked like you were going to be together forever.”

“Did she?”

“What, did you not read her press?”

“What, did you?”

Shit. Trapped. “A little,” I admitted. “Maybe James threatened to cut off my internet access a couple of times. Daily,” I confessed, and Nick laughed.

“Really?” He sounded almost happy about that.

“Yes, if you must know, I was pretty tortured by you and Paris.”

“Is it bad that I’m a little happy about that?”

“Yes!” I insisted, but he only laughed harder.

“Sorry. I really hate that lawyer guy,” he said. “And…”

My heart twisted as Nick’s voice caught in his throat. We could joke about Ben and Paris, but Justin was different. I knew that. I hadn’t really thought of the repercussions at the time… but now they were staring me in the face.

“Justin,” I said. I couldn’t avoid it, and Nick sighed.

“So it’s true.”

“You didn’t know for sure?”

“I knew from JC via Anna. But… part of me hoped, a little bit, that it wasn’t true.”

“Sorry,” I said. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t anything. I didn’t… I never realized how much it might hurt you until all the Paris stuff started happening.”

“That might be part of the reason the Paris stuff started happening,” he admitted. “Because I thought you were with Justin… or the lawyer guy…”

“Ben,” I provided.

“Ben,” he said, a noted of contempt in his voice, and I smiled a little.

“Anyway. I’d heard about Justin, and then I read about Ben, so you’d moved on, and Paris was… there.”

“Just there? That’s all she was?”

“Pretty much,” he admitted. “I mean… I liked her. Sorta. I liked being with her. Having this big life and going to all the clubs and parties and stuff, but… she was… it was never her. All she could talk about was gossip and where we were going next.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”

He laughed. “She’s not any different than the press makes her out to be, really. She tries to say that she’s sweet, and smart, but… she’s not. I might have fallen for that act for a while.”

“She’s not sweet. Look what she did to you after you broke up.”

“That was because I broke up with her.”

“Did you?”

“Oh, yeah. It was fucking awful. It was this whole… thing, with Anna and…”

“Anna?” I asked. Anna was the reason Nick had broken up with Paris? I wouldn’t have guessed that. But… way to go, Anna. I’d have to thank her for that.

“Anna really did not like Paris.”

“No? Why not?” I said, trying to keep my voice as non-judgmental as possible. I knew from my years with Jeremy and growing up with brothers that boys just didn’t understand the concept of ‘mean girls.’ They always fell for the sweet and sexy act.

“Because Paris is a bitch,” Nick said and I laughed. Maybe Nick got it. He had dated the mean girl to end all mean girls, after all.

“Anna is a smart woman,” I said.

“She really is. But… it’s a long story – that I’m too happy to really think about right now - but Anna and I had a talk that night and she told me I could do better than Paris. Because I should have you, but I’d never have you again if I kept fucking around with Paris.” He took a breath and I bit my tongue to keep from interrupting him. “I was an asshole when I was with Paris. Everyone around her is an asshole. They’re shallow and stupid and vain, and I am really good at being like that sometimes.”

“Yeah,” I said, eliciting a ‘hey!” from him that me made laugh.

“You’re the one that said it,” I told him.

“Yeah, but you weren’t supposed to agree.”

“Sometimes the truth hurts, bunny.”

“Yeah, Anna said that, too. Not that the truth hurts. But that I was an asshole with Paris.”

“Is that why you broke up with her?”

“Yeah. Because I didn’t like the guy I was with Paris. I like the guy I am with you.”

“Me, too. What about the guy you are when you’re just single, though?”

Nick was quiet for a minute. “He’s okay. I’m easily influenced, though. And I’m not good at being alone. It’s better when I’m around nice people like you.”

I laughed. Good enough.

“What about the single you?” he asked.

“She was getting better every day. But then I saw you tonight and fucked all that up.”

“Sorry,” he said.

“You don’t really sound sorry.”

“I’m really not,” he admitted, chuckling.

The chuckle. I loved that little laugh.

“I’m sure we’re fine people when we’re single, Rache. But we’re better together.”

“Yah, we might be. Hey, bunny?” I asked, remembering something.

“Yes, buttercup?”

“What did you do with the Porsche?”

“The Porsche?” he asked, sounding surprised and amused at my change of subject. “I didn’t do anything with the Porsche.”

“Yeah, you did,” I insisted. “Are you going to be here soon?”

“Unless I hit one of those weird LA traffic jams, yes. I think you’re the next exit.”

“Good,” I said, settling back into the sofa. I’d created a mood ages ago, but the candles might be melted down by the time he got here. “But you have time to tell me what you did with my Porsche first.”

“Rache, I didn’t… oh. Right.”

I laughed. “I knew that was you up at the Point.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I’d tried to forget about that.”

“You broke into my house, Nick. Freaked my mom out.”

“Hey, you moved the key!”

“I moved the key long before we broke up. Frank got me a lock box with a combination for Christmas, remember?”

“Frank is so weird.”

“Do you talk to him?”

“Doesn’t he tell you that stuff?”

I snorted. “Nick. We’re talking about Frank. He does not gossip. Because you already admitted that you didn’t hear about Justin from him.”

“He knows you were with Justin?” Nick asked, so indignant his voice broke.

Was he going to work ‘dang’ into the conversation now? I had forgotten how cute he was when he got all jealous over nothing.

“Frank snuck him into my hotel room once.”

“I am going to kick his gay Texan ass.”

I laughed, and after a second, Nick joined me. Nick could not take Frank in a fight. Ever.

“I’ll tell you that story some other time,” I promised. “But you still haven’t told me what you did with my car.”

“What?” he asked. “Sounds like you figured it out. I had a key to James’ place, then when I figured out you weren’t there, I got the key to the Porsche and tried to find you at the Point.”

“But we went to JC’s place in Florida.”

“I know that now. When you weren’t there, I got…” He sighed. “Don’t make me think about that day. I got upset and broke in, I guess. I just… I couldn’t believe you weren’t there. I couldn’t handle the fact that I couldn’t fix it.”

His voice was so sad. I remembered those horrible days after we’d first broken up, too. Well… I sorta remembered them. They were a blur of crying and being sad and talking to James.

I didn’t want to be sad right now. There was plenty of time to be sad later when we were together and he could kiss away my tears. Shit, when was he going to get here? I was growing more impatient with every minute that passed.

“So you were so upset you stole my car?”

He laughed, glad I’d made a joke instead of talking about the break up in detail.

“I brought it back,” he protested. “I just took it to the Point and back. You weren’t even in town. It’s not like you missed it.”

“But… you didn’t bring it back.”

He skipped a beat. “I parked it in James’ garage.”

“Where did you put the key?”

“In the glove compartment with the key to James’ apartment. I didn’t want to go back up there.”

I bit back a giggle. “You have to lock it from the outside, you know.”

“I… you… shit. Did the Porsche get stolen?”

“I thought you took it back.”

“I wouldn’t do that!”

“I thought it was weird.”

“You could have called and yelled at me or something. Is it too late to report it stolen?”

“Probably. Whoever got it thinks they are the best thief in the world. It’s okay. I never liked that car.”

“Sorry,” he said, and I knew he was sorry for everything, starting with the fight we had before he got me the car, and ending with today.

“Never buy me another car, Nick.”

“Never?” he asked.

“Yeah. I can afford my own cars.”

“Alright,” he agreed. “But just so you know - if you ever want to buy me a really cool car, feel free.”

I laughed. “So noted. Are you here yet?”

“Almost. I can see the hotel.”

“Awesome. I don’t have any sexy lingerie for you,” I said, glancing around the room. I’d scrounged up some candles and I always had a bath bomb in my bag so we could have a nice bath later. My body relaxed at the memory of being surrounded by steam and leaning back against Nick’s chest in the warm water.

“I don’t care, Rache,” he whispered.

“I know. I just didn’t want you getting your hopes up.”

“What, you weren’t planning to seduce me all along?”

“I really wasn’t,” she said. “I didn’t think anything would happen. And since I’ve been on my celibacy kick, the lingerie just stays in a drawer.”

“A what kick?”

“Celibacy. I haven’t had sex since New Year’s. Well, a couple of days before New Year’s.”

“What?” I asked. She hadn’t had sex in three months? I didn’t think I could go three weeks. Days.

Well, I’d gone without for a few weeks before, always because I was waiting to see Rachel, so it was worth it.

She laughed. “That’s only like two months, Nick. Hardly forever. I broke up with Ben on New Year’s eve- that morning. It’s not like we were at a party and there was a big scene or anything- and I resolved to not have sex again until it meant something. Or until I meant it. Something like that. Because it meant something with Ben. I really liked him, and I just hurt him in the end, and I felt like shit for it. It’s been good.”

“No sex is good?”

How the fuck did I get to the hotel off the freeway? I could see it, but none of the roads seemed to go that way.

“I have hands, bunny. And toys. It’s not like I’m not getting off.”

I might have to go the wrong way down a one way street to get to her. I definitely could not concentrate on driving while having this conversation.

“Speaking of getting off, buttercup, I just got off the freeway and I can’t figure out how to get to the hotel.”

“You found it earlier.”

“Yes, but I wasn’t talking to you about how you haven’t had sex in two months then.”

“Do you have any idea how much I want you right now?”

“Are you trying to make me drive off the road?”

She giggled. “Maybe. Before you called, I was sitting here wondering just how much you’d enjoy knowing that you were my first for a while.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

“Please don’t.”

I whimpered, and saw the hotel entrance on the other side of the road. Fuck it. No one was coming. I made a totally illegal turn and pulled into the driveway.

“Where the fuck is the valet?” I asked, making her laugh again.

“Are you here?”

“Yes, finally,” I said, sliding out of car and handing my keys to the valet who had finally appeared.

“Are you staying with us, sir?”

“Yes, I- what room are you in, Rache?”

“3522.”

I repeated it back to the valet and started inside, then remembered my bag. I didn’t… I’d want it later. “Wait,” I said, turning around. “Forgot my bag.”

Later, after we’d had sex about a dozen times, I’d want to show Rachel the notebook. And clean clothes in the morning, before we left, or I left, or whatever, would be good.

The valet popped the trunk and handed me my bag and I threw it over my shoulder, half-jogging inside. Just a minute, and I’d be with her again. And this time I could kiss her and hold her and do all the things I’d wanted to do before and wasn’t allowed.

“You need to take the blue elevators, bunny.”

“What?”

“Blue elevators. There are different towers, see?’

I looked around the lobby and sighed. This was the most confusing hotel in the world. And I’d seen plenty of hotels.

“Why did you pick the most confusing hotel in the world, Rachel?”

“It’s post-modern, baby. The rooms are nice. I have a big comfy bed, and the shower is amazing. Big enough for both of us.”

“Is there a tub?” I asked, trying to figure out where the hell the blue elevators might be.

“There is,” she said, her voice full of promises. “I don’t have my entire bag of tricks, but I do have a bath bomb and some candles.”

“Of course you do.” I would expect nothing less of Rachel. Even if she wasn’t planning a seduction, she liked things to be nice.

“Should I run a bath?”

“Not right now,” I said, finally finding the blue elevators. “3522?” I asked her.

“Did you find the elevators?”

“Yes. And I’m alone, so I can tell you that a bath will be stupid, because we are just about to get all sweaty. I’m about to do very dirty things to you, baby.”

She sighed happily. “Good. We can have a bath after.”

“Awesome. Where are you?”

“Right here,” she said, and I heard a door open ahead of me, and her beautiful face smiled at me from around the door frame.

I ran to her, turning off my phone. She grinned, tossing her phone over her shoulder as I reached the door. I went to pull her into my arms as she shut the door, but stopped. “Where’d you get that, buttercup?” I laughed and she stepped back and twirled around for me like a fashion model, showing off her Nick Carter tour t-shirt.

“There was a whole box by the stage door, so I might have stolen a couple. I didn’t bring lingerie, after all.”

“I wouldn’t call this sexy, Rache.”

She pouted, but couldn’t keep it up, either. Dissolving into giggles, she pulled something out of the trash can next to the desk. “My first attempt didn’t work so well.”

She held up a strip of fabric that used to be a tour t-shirt. I snatched it out of her hand, holding it up to see how it was supposed to work.

“You are many things, Rachel Connor, but fashion designer is not one of them.”

“I figured you were just going to rip it off me anyway, right?” she whispered, wrapping her arm around me to pull me back to her. As we kissed, we both stumbled a bit, overcome with emotion.

“Yeah,” I murmured against her skin, balling the fabric up in my hand and pulling it up to reveal smooth skin underneath. “This one is toast, too.”

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