Accidentally by evergreenwriter83, Pengi
Summary:
Photobucket


ac·ci·den·tal·ly adj. 1. Occurring unexpectedly, unintentionally, or by chance.

The moment Nick saw Lauren, it was all over. It was lust. It was (gulp) love. The problem is, he was already in a relationship.. . with Heather, the girl who might as well be Brian's little sister.

Unable to figure out trouble brewing in his own life, Brian decides to work on Nick and Heather's instead. Except there's not much a guy can do with a lying, cheating best friend... and there's way too much a guy can do for the girl who's not so little anymore...

Categories: Fanfiction > Backstreet Boys Characters: Brian, Nick
Genres: Drama, Dramedy, Humor, Romance
Warnings: Sexual Content
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 40 Completed: Yes Word count: 80369 Read: 69664 Published: 04/30/11 Updated: 05/22/11
Story Notes:
Nick's POV written by evergreenwriter83
Brian's POV written by Pengi
Heather's POV written by evergreenwriter83 (odd chapters) and Pengi (even chapters)

1. Chapter 1 by evergreenwriter83

2. Chapter 2 by evergreenwriter83

3. Chapter 3 by evergreenwriter83

4. Chapter 4 by evergreenwriter83

5. Chapter 5 by evergreenwriter83

6. Chapter 6 by evergreenwriter83

7. Chapter 7 by evergreenwriter83

8. Chapter 8 by evergreenwriter83

9. Chapter 9 by evergreenwriter83

10. Chapter 10 by evergreenwriter83

11. Chapter 11 by evergreenwriter83

12. Chapter 12 by evergreenwriter83

13. Chapter 13 by evergreenwriter83

14. Chapter 14 by evergreenwriter83

15. Chapter 15 by evergreenwriter83

16. Chapter 16 by evergreenwriter83

17. Chapter 17 by evergreenwriter83

18. Chapter 18 by evergreenwriter83

19. Chapter 19 by evergreenwriter83

20. Chapter 20 by evergreenwriter83

21. Chapter 21 by evergreenwriter83

22. Chapter 22 by evergreenwriter83

23. Chapter 23 by evergreenwriter83

24. Chapter 24 by Pengi

25. Chapter 25 by evergreenwriter83

26. Chapter 26 by Pengi

27. Chapter 27 by evergreenwriter83

28. Chapter 28 by evergreenwriter83

29. Chapter 29 by evergreenwriter83

30. Chapter 30 by Pengi

31. Chapter 31 by Pengi

32. Chapter 32 by Pengi

33. Chapter 33 by Pengi

34. Chapter 34 by Pengi

35. Chapter 35 by evergreenwriter83

36. Chapter 36 by Pengi

37. Chapter 37 by Pengi

38. Chapter 38 by evergreenwriter83

39. Chapter 39 by evergreenwriter83

40. Epilogue by Pengi

Chapter 1 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter One

Nick

Looking back, I remember it was Brian that had first introduced me to her. I remember my surprise that Brian - Brian married man Littrell - had been able to spot such a hottie. It was August of 2008. Bri had already been married for about a billion years, he was obsessed with Baylee's rendition of Jesus Loves You, and I was sure he had no friggin' clue that hot-blooded females were still walking the earth amongst us. We were in Kentucky when he hooked up with this guy he had known in high school, a guy that had a younger sister that was dying to meet us.

Brian had brought this beautiful, eager blonde angel up to me after our show and made introductions with an over-exaggerated drawl. I still remember her holding out her shaking hand, her face turning a deep shade of red as her own country twang proclaimed, "Hi, I'm Heather." It was love at first sight.

Heather. It was the perfect name. You know how some people look more like an Erin or a Jessica? Well Heather looks like a Heather. Her blonde hair curls over her shoulders and she has these blue eyes that sparkle like Christmas tree bulbs...

Except they aren't sparkling at the moment. At the moment she's tossing pairs of rolled up socks at my head, her face crumpled in anger. The country twang has lessened over the years; I've corrupted her with my California-ness.

"Y'know what? I don't want to go to Germany, anyhow. You go and--and--eat your chocolate!"

If there's one other thing about Heather, it's that she doesn't know how to fight well. She aimed another sock ball that I dodged as I zipped my suitcase.

"Babe, don't get bent outta shape," I said. "It's just that I'm going to be working nonstop. Don't be so...clingy."

"Clingy?" she repeated.

I didn't answer. I had a knot in the pit of my stomach that I couldn't loosen.

Guilt.

It all started when I first started organizing my solo concerts in between all this NKOTBSB stuff. It was when I had first met Lauren. Everything that happened afterwards was completely unplanned. Heather and I were okay up until that point; Lauren just changed it all.

Lauren and Heather were as opposite as two girls could be. Heather was the bubbly blonde; Lauren was the sultry brunette. Heather apologized if she uttered a mild curse; Lauren had no remorse.

Lauren had joined the crew I had slapped together to document my solo journey unexpectedly. She had breezed through her interview. Actually, she had walked in, camera around her neck, big boobs out to - here - and I had hired her on the spot. Luckily, her skills were as good as her looks. From the moment we met, she had flirted with me like no tomorrow. By the time we got to Japan a couple months ago, we somehow ended up naked in my big ass hotel bed and I swear I forgot my name no fewer than three times. Luckily, her shouting it at the top of her lungs helped me remember it.

But that was why I was keeping Heather stateside. Unfortunately, even Ms. Patient's patience was wearing thin.

And I wasn't quite sure what I was going to do with her.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

"I'll be back May 20. Then you'll be coming on tour with me for NKOTBSB. Trust me, I just don't want you to get sick of this tour stuff. You know how it was last summer."

Nick's big puppy dog eyes did me in. Besides, I had no more balled up socks to throw. He grabbed my limp arms, wiggling them playfully. "Give me a hug?"

I wrapped my arms around his neck, inhaling the scent of his aftershave. He pressed a kiss against my neck.

"Be safe," I said. He pulled away, a perfect white smile lighting up his entire face.

"Promise. And promise me you won't get all work-a-holic on me while I'm gone."

A giggle rose in my throat. "Promise."

Nick stepped back, a doubtful look replacing the smile on his face as he swung his duffel bag onto his shoulder. "Hun, you know no matter how hard you work, they're never going to give you a chance. It's a dying field."

I struggled not to let him know yet again how much his lack of confidence hurt me. "I know," I said softly.

He pressed his palm to his lips, tossing it back at me in an air kiss.

"Bye, Heath Bar."

"Bye, Nick."

He turned and I heard the sound of his footsteps on the stairs as he descended. I sank down on the bed, sighing softly.

I couldn't put my finger on when things had begun to change, but they had. Somehow the Nick I had started with had changed into the guy who had just left. Hot and cold. More judgmental. Unattentive.

I felt an unwanted tear trail down my cheek. I brushed it away and exhaled loudly. My eyes flickered to the large pile of printer paper stacked on the desk near the door.

For as long as I could remember, I had wanted to be a writer. When I had met Nick, I had been fresh out of the University of Kentucky with a degree in writing. At twenty-six, I thought that I'd have no trouble becoming world famous in a year. I was destined to be the next Nicholas Sparks. Or Danielle Steele. Or Barbara Taylor Bradford.

Three years later, that confidence was gone. I free-lanced to have a semblance of an income, but my dream resided in the incomplete romance novel the was sitting just feet from me. No one would bite. 'It lacks passion.' 'There's not enough emotional connection between characters.' 'Devoid of conflict.'

No matter how many rejection letters I received, I had never given up.

But now that my own romance was seemingly waning, it was becoming harder and harder to think about love.

The sound of the phone ringing broke through my thoughts. As my eyes fell upon the display and recognized Brian's number, I smiled through the tears.

Maybe instead of a love story, I would be better off writing about friendships.

At least my friendship with Brian hadn't changed; if anything, it had just been getting stronger.

And at the moment, I totally needed a friend.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Brian

"Fine whatever, go call Nick, tell him what a bitch I am. I don't care." Leighanne slammed the bedroom door and I slammed my office door. I growled and launched myself across the room.

We'd been home from California maybe fifteen minutes before it started. Baylee had excused himself immediately to go to his room, abandoning me with the woman from The Ring screaming in my ear. I'm not even sure what had set her off this time, all I knew was that I was pissed.

My fingers jabbed at the number pad on the phone. Nick would have some good man advice for me. He'd tell me to do something ridiculous like go out, let some steam loose. He'd probably tell me to sleep with the first thing I saw with boobs and two legs.

Childish as it sounds, that's what I needed right now.

"Brian!"

Heather was not what I expected. I felt my palms go all funny and I turned away from the door, my eyes flashing to the LCD to see if Leighanne had picked up the other line (she hadn't). "Heyyyy kiddo," I drawled out, my Kentucky poking through naturally. I'd grown up with Chris - Heather's older brother - and somehow I'd always be that nine year old country boy who was giggling at the two year old with sand down her diaper.

Heather was a little sister I never had.

"How are you, Bri?" she asked.

I glanced at the door of the office, which seemed to still shiver with the force I'd slammed it with, then back to the LCD. Now she was listening. "I'm -- I'm okay. Is Nick there?"

"You just missed him, he's on his way to LAX, if you give him a call you can probably catch him before his flight takes off."

I sighed. "Nawh, I'll call him another time, I don't wanna stress him out."

"Serve him right," she muttered.

"Something wrong?" I asked.

Heather sighed, "Nawh. Nick's just... I dunno, he's already stressed. This whole solo tour thing. You know Nick." I could hear the forced smile in the words.

Yeah. I know Nick alright.

"Sorry," I managed to say outloud.

It was like being stuck between a rock and a hard place. Nick - my best friend in the entire world - and Heather - my might-as-well-be-sister. I tried not to get involved when they had fights and stuff. I didn't want to hurt either of their feelings. I wanted to side with both of them.

"Maybe the trip to Germany will cool him down," I suggested, "You know he likes Germany."

"Yeah," Heather sounded sad. She paused, "Something wrong with you?" she asked.

I glanced at the LCD. Leighanne was still listening in. I sighed. "No..." I lied, "I just wanted to wish Nick good luck on the trip to Berlin, you know." I fingered the phone cord, twisting it around my digits. The thing about Heather and I was since we'd grown up together, sometimes even the silence felt like a conversation. After a long, long pause of such feelings, I said, "Hey kiddo? Don't worry about Nick. He's probably sitting on the plane right now, thinking about how much he misses you..."
Chapter 2 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Two Nick

Holy fucking hell.

Those were the only three words that kept running over and over in my mind as I watched the beautiful vision right in front of me stretch up slightly and shove her bag into the overhead. About three amazing inches of stomach splayed out bare for the world to view. But it wasn't the stomach that was getting to me.

It was the hair.

Lauren had shown up at the airport a fucking strawberry blonde. Okay, maybe strawberry blonde isn't right. Reddish blonde? Dark blonde?

I dunno what color girls would call it. All I know is that the last time I saw her she was a brunette and now...

Blonde.

Unlike Heather, who was a good five inches shorter than me, Lauren was my height. She was all legs and girly bits and...

I was addicted. I positioned myself right against her, locking her into position as I put my own bag up in the overhang. Her hips pressed right into mine and I knew that I wasn't going to get off the flight without joining the mile high club. Again.

"I missed you," she said out of the corner of her mouth, a mouth that was curled up seductively at the corners. She reached behind her, tweaking my left nipple. I sucked in a breath, my hand sliding just barely into the crack that was showing from her low-slung pants. A thong, maybe. I was going more towards commando. The temperature spiked up another few thousand degrees.

"How much?" I asked as she shifted away, a laugh getting caught in her throat. She took the window seat, flopping down and running her hand over her long, messy braid. I almost connected my tightening groin with the upraised armrest, trying, but failing, to suavely get into my seat beside her.

Somehow, she had made me sixteen again. Experienced Nick Carter was a buffoon.

I watched as her hand fell from her braid and she leaned down, straddling her laptop bag. While hunched over, her hand shot out and grabbed the back of my calf. She ran her hand as far up as it would go and then slid it over so that she had a nice chunk of my thigh.

"Enough that I almost felt like a damn fangirl," she admitted. "Your fans document your every move."

"I know," I said. She didn't have to tell me. It had been tricky at the airport. When I had seen blonde Miss Lauren across the way, I had wanted to hump her right there. Of course, that was hard to do when you have about a hundred fans posed with IPhones ready to post pictures where a certain girlfriend could easily see them...

Suddenly, Lauren let go of my thigh and I got a clear view of cleavage. I turned around in my seat, practically salivating like one of Pavlov's dogs. My eyes focused on the bathroom.

"I might need some assistance once we reach elevation," I said slowly. Her body swiveled and I knew her eyes followed the same trajectory I had just taken. She clicked her tongue.

"Dirty," she said.

"I brought hand sanitizer," I blurted. I almost choked on my own tongue. Did I seriously just say that?

Lauren's laugh confirmed my stupidity. "Might have to trade in your man card for that," she said.

My mouth curved into a smile. "You won't be saying that soon," I teased. Her eyes darkened.

The sexual innuendos hit a fevered pitch as the rest of my crew settled down. I had my boy Andrew, a couple security guards, and my PR people to make sure I got to events on time. Or at least as close as Backstreet time would allow. Needless to say, I had surrounded myself with people who knew me well enough not to be too shocked that I was being a player. Andrew didn't even look up as Lauren and I both slid into the bathroom - and he was sitting right next to it.

I didn't have a lot of time to think about the fact that he was about to hear a lot of bumping, moaning, and grinding. The minute the door closed behind Lauren, she had her hands on the bottom of my shirt and I had my teeth locked somewhere in the proximity of her left boob.

I've got to admit that I've had sex in airplane bathrooms a few times. I'm certainly not a rookie when it comes to the mile high club. Unfortunately, the best days of large private planes were behind me. The first class bathrooms are way better than just coach, but they still leave a lot to be desired. Like size. It's not always easy maneuvering in a space barely big enough for a toilet and a sink. That's why you've got to use the sink as your friend and the toilet as your enemy.

"Crap!" Lauren cried as I half-dropped her onto the ledge of the sink. The plane had hit a bump and my best laid plan had failed. She scooted herself up onto the pedestal and I felt the muscles in her legs tighten as she wrapped those long puppies around my waist. She smiled and ran her hands into my hair, her long nails massaging the scalp.

"You know your fangirls call it Thor?" she asked as I worked at my jeans. I paused, looking at her in surprise.

"They have conversations about it?"

Lauren smirked. "They speculate."

"Did you join in?"

Her eyes sparkled. "I might have added a comment."

"I hope you gave me credit."

Her hands replaced mine on the zipper. "Oh, trust me. I gave you credit."

Lauren proved it by giving me a lot more than credit. Unfortunately, I guess I either forgot how thin the walls of plane bathrooms are, or Lauren and I together just created more chaos than even I was capable of singly. My super hero strength combined with the sheer force of banging her against the sink must have done something to the laws of nature (don't ask me what). One minute I was close to putting Mt. Vesivius to shame...

The next minute there was a large hole in the wall, Lauren was contorted backwards, her boobs on display to all first class passengers and her braid practically touching the ground. Andrew was screaming, having crawled out of the way just in time, but not before pieces of wall had gotten lodged in his hair.

I swear, if it wasn't for the fact that I had a pissed off stewardess heading towards me at a hundred miles an hour, I think Lauren and I still would have finished.

She's just pretty cool like that.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

I was sitting at the desk, staring at yet another rejection letter. Sorry, it said, your work that you've poured your sweat, blood, tears and hopes into for years of your life is too shitty for us to print for human eyes to see.

Well it didn't exactly say that. It just felt like that's what it said.

Anyways, that's when the phone rang.

I glanced at the caller ID. "Twice in one day, Brian? This has gotta be some kind of record."

"Have you been online?" his breath was a little short.

"Online?" I asked, glancing at the closed laptop. "No, why?" Instinctively, my hands reached for the computer.

"Okay. Um. Don't. Don't until you've talked to Nick, okay?"

"Brian?"

"Talk to Nick."

And just like that he'd hung up. I stared at the phone as the dial tone took over and puzzled as I put it back to its cradle. My eyes traveled back to the sleeping computer. Then my heart skipped a beat. Of course. It all made sense. My mouth went a little bit dry.

I imagined the picture I was about to see as I clicked the buttons on the PC to wake it up. His tall, thin frame, leaning over a glass case. The pale blue and white boxes in a stack by his arm. Jealous fans drooling in windows. Andrew standing by his side on his cell phone, explaining why their appointments in Germany were cancelled. I pictured Nick coming waltzing in the door ready to sweep me off my feet with a rock the size of Pluto on a band of platinum.

I started mentally planning the wedding. Italy on the beach. Nick in jeans. Me in a beautiful gown.

I could totally finish my novel, once I'd had the most romantic moment of my entire life... I'd feel inspired, and I'd knock out some of the hottest romance anyone had seen in years. I could almost picture the article where NY Times interviewed me asking where I'd gotten my inspiration.

"I was inspired," I said outloud, as though answering the reporter, "By Nick, when he asked me to marry him. Oh, the look on Nick's face when---"

But I stopped midword because front and center on TMZ was, indeed, Nick's face. But it was not looming over the glass cases of Tiffany's as I'd expected it to be. In fact, there were no diamonds anywhere in the entire image. The closest thing to a rock was the rock-hard nipples on the bare tits of Lauren Kitt protruding through the broken wall of an airplane bathroom.

"Oh. My. God," I whispered.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Brian


“What in the hell were you thinking?”

“Well, for starters, I was thinking that airplanes walls were sturdier than that. I mean, dude, hit a little bit of turbulence and boom she’s sitting on Andrew’s lap.” Nick’s voice was saturated with amusement. “I mean dude, how many times have you taken a leak on a flight and hit turbulence and you catch your balance by leaning on the wall, right? Dude just think; one of these times, you could go though the wall and your wanker’s out there for the world to see and –“

NICK!” I growled the name and he shut up instantly. “Nick, have you even thought about Heather?”

Nick hesitated, “I’m working on it.”

“Working on what?

I could almost hear the shug in his voice, “The – you know – cover story. I’m thinking Lauren was probably sick and she needed someone to rub her back.”

“Nick, Lauren is not flat enough that anyone would believe you thought her breasts were her back.”

He hesitated. “Brian, I just—I dunno, Heather hasn’t been putting out a lot lately and I needed some – you know, relief.”

The last thing in the world I wanted to know about was whether Heather was putting out or not. In my mind, she was still a four year old with jelly fingers and pig tails. I shuddered at the thought of Heather and Nick and Nick and Heather and – “UGH! I don’t wanna hear it,” I groaned, “Nick c’mon, dude, I didn’t introduce you to Heather so you could drag her around on your little love party string like you do every other girl. Hell, I didn’t introduce you two so you could decide to go out with her in the first place, but that’s okay.”

Nick laughed, “Kentucky ladies are finer than I remembered them being the first time you took me to your momma’s.”

“I dunno why you think Kentucky ladiesare any different than regular ladies, Nick, but okay.”

“It’s like – I dunno, it’s the pig tails and cowboy boots and all that --- that --- what the hell is the name of that checkerboardy cloth again dude?”

“Gingham?”

“Yeah, that.”

I sighed and massaged my forehead. “This is so not what we were talking about.”

“What were we talking about?” Nick forgot topic flows so easily it was ridiculous. It was that ADHD in him.

About Heather,” I reminded him, “And what you’re going to say to her?”

“Oh yeah. So, yeah. Lauren was sick. I was comforting her.”

“How about the truth?” I asked. “There’s a revolutionary idea.”

Nick mused quietly, “The truth dawg? Really?”

“Yes Nick, the truth. I think you should talk to Heather, come clean about this whatever-you-have-going-on-with Lauren and do like… I dunno, couples therapy or something.”

Nick snorted. “Couple’s therapy? Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”

“Nick, she’s a fantastic woman,” I said, “And it’s not everyday that a fantastic woman is willing to put up with you and your bullshit. You need to invest something into this relationship. Couple’s therapy will help you and before you know it you’ll be happier than ever. With Heather.

“Like you are with Leighanne?”

I felt my mouth go dry. “Yes,” I said quietly.

Nick laughed, “She listening in on us again? Hi Leighanne.

“She is not listening in again,” I stammered, looking at the LCD on the phone cradle - she wasn’t - “I’m not unhappy.”

Nick’s laugh didn’t die. “Okay, you go on about that couple’s therapy til ya blue in the face, man, but just remember eventually people will think you’re a smurf. Cos you’re short like that.”
Chapter 3 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Three

Nick

"Hey babe. I'm in Germany."

"Is that all you're in?"

Heather didn't sound relieved that I had made it to another continent alive. In fact, she didn't sound happy. At all.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized it wasn't really my fault. How was I to know that TMZ had booked seats in just for the purpose of catching me doing something? It was a low move.

"Ohhhh," I said, drawing out the word. I had prepared an excuse. After hanging up with Bri, I realized he was right. The comforting thing wouldn't work. But I had a better alibi. It was friggin' genius. "You saw the thing on TMZ didn't you?"

"Didn't I," Heather twanged.

"I can explain," I said. I took a breath and launched into my well rehearsed story. "See, we had a lot of turbulence and the stewardess was heading towards my seat with a cart of drinks when the plane bumped. The stewardess tripped her whole tray of drinks and they went airborne. They landed on me and Lauren since we were both sitting on the aisle.

"You were both sitting on the aisle?" Heather repeated. I nodded even though I knew she couldn't see it. My gaze went to Lauren. She looked up with a smile, wiggling her fingers. I stifled a moan and tried to concentrate on keeping my lie going.

"Yeah. Lauren was sitting right behind me. We were covered in Sprite and apple juice and, well, it was just a mess. We both needed to change so Andrew came up with the idea of putting up one of those airplane blankets in the bathroom with a couple pairs of suitcuffs."

"Suitcuffs?" Heather's voice was losing the bitchy edge. I was winning. It made me even more excited to get to the end of my tale.

"Yeah! Suitcuffs! So, needless to say, we were both changing in our own little makeshift booths when the plane rocked again and my big Pooh ass hit the wall. Lauren must have been sitting on the sink doing whatever girls do cause she tipped backwards. The sheet disappeared and I tried to be a gentlemen and catch her, but well--"

"Nick, it looked like--"

I made a noise that I hoped strove towards sympathy and horror. "Babe, I know. I'm so sorry. Sometimes I forget that my friends aren't the smartest people in the world."

Heather giggled. Lauren kicked her shoe in my direction. I knelt down and picked up the little strappy sandal. The next one hit my head. I almost dropped the phone, but I caught it just in time.

"Are you at the hotel?" she asked.

I straightened up just in time to be assaulted with a pair of shorts. There was stripping going on and I wasn't sure how long I could maintain my attention.

"Yeah, I'm at the hotel," I rambled. I leaned against an ornate table propped against the wall and watched as the newly blonde object of my desire kept reducing apparel. "But, I'm not going to be doing anything but performing. Besides my solo concerts, starting Monday I'm getting feeds wired from California so that I can keep up with the choreography for the NKOTBSB tour."

"Really?" Heather sounded surprised. "Why are they making you do that? Brian just got back to Atlanta."

A little piece of lace landed directly on my lap. I was doomed.

"He's flying right back to be at rehearsals Monday morning. He and Leighanne had some couple thing they had to do and um--"

Flesh. Flesh was my weakness. I purposely leaned over and opened and shut my hotel door.

"What was that?" Heather asked.

"Radio dude. Hotel interview. I gotta go, but I'll call you soon." I made loud kissing noises even as Lauren came stalking over to me. My finger looped around the neck of my t-shirt and I yanked. God, clothing was uncomfortable.

"Okay, love you," I heard Heather say. I didn't respond. I hadn't said the 'l' word to her until six months ago, and it still wasn't coming easily. Instead, I hung up and decided to pray for forgiveness later.

"Good story," Lauren said. She pressed her palms into my thighs; her lips devoured mine.

One thing was for sure: that kiss was better than ten million pounds of German Chocolate.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

It was ten o'clock at night and the light from my laptop was the only thing illuminating the room. The black print contrasted deeply with the bright white background of the open Word document. I bit my lip, twirling a piece of hair around and around my finger.

I was trying to place myself in my story. After all, publishers said it wasn't personal enough.

I needed to make it personal.

The first thing I did was tweak the description of the female character. I gave her a country twang and a love of plaid shirts. Instead of being born and raised in New York, 'Holly' was born and raised in northern Tennessee. She no longer spent her free time crunching numbers or going to the opera. No, she ate corndogs and went to baseball games - something that I realized as I typed that I missed like hell. Holly watched little kids with a hunger in her eye. She was a good girl, but not so good that she didn't enjoy making out in the middle of a thunder storm.

That was me in a nutshell. It was the easy part.

The more difficult part came in changing up her love interest. He was Bryce Jennison, playboy extraordinary, but an angel at heart. Holly and Bryce had a 'love at first sight' type of story. She made him a better man and he knew by the middle of the story that he couldn't live a day without her. The saccharine sweetness of the story would have given Cinderella cavaties.

And that was why, the more I read it, the more I realized it really was boring. I didn't have any conflict. I needed conflict. Life was full of conflict.

I knew that firsthand.

Thinking about the events of earlier in my day, my fingers hovered over the keyboard and I hesitated for just a moment before letting them fly. I wasn't usually an unconscious typer, but it was almost as if someone else had jumped into my body. Suddenly, Bryce wasn't so angelic; he was cheating on Holly with his secretary. A mutual friend who couldn't stand to see Holly duped was created to break the news.

And just like that, that's all I had. My fingers stopped. What I wrote sounded good; I just had to figure out where to go from there. In my story and in my personal life.

I wanted to believe Nick's explanation of that incriminating photo. It wasn't impossible that a stewardess spilled a cart full of drinks. And I knew Andrew well enough to know that he could have very well come up with that brillant 'dressing room' idea.

Still...there was something about that photograph that kept me coming back and it wasn't Lauren's chest on display. No, it was the look on Nick's face.

I knew that face. I hadn't seen it in a few months - honestly, there's nothing romantic about getting poked in the shoulder and hearing the words 'Let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel,' so I hadn't exactly been ready and willing. But it hadn't been that long ago: I still knew the one thing that prompted that spasmodic look on Nick Carter's face...

And it took a walk on the wild side to produce it.


-------------------------------------------


Brian

I was putting forks on the table for dinner when the phone rang.

Some time during the night, Leighanne and I had made up. Don’t go thinking exciting things happened or anything – I haven’t gotten make up sex in months. Not since fighting became a regular Littrell Family Activity. You’ve heard of Prince Spaghetti Night and Family Game night? Well it wasn’t just a one night a week thing. Every night in the Littrell house had become a constant screaming match.

“Brian,” Leighanne called, her voice sounded stoic. “It’s for you.”

I dropped the last fork onto Baylee’s folded napkin and wiped my hands on my jeans. The forks were still hot from the dishwasher. I trotted into the kitchen and Leighanne jabbed the phone into my hand like she was Brutus striking down Caesar. I took it, blinking in surprise, as she made a face of disapproval and turned back to the stove.

“He-hello?” I stammered.

“Brian?”

“Hi kiddo,” I said. It was just Heather. I glared at Leighanne’s back. What the hell is your problem? I wondered, Am I not allowed to have friends now? I rolled my eyes when she couldn’t see, and turned the other direction, away from her.

Well, we’d almost made it through a night without a fight.

“Brian,” Heather’s voice was broken, I realized.

“What’s a matter, kid?” I asked.

“I saw TMZ,” she whispered.

I swallowed and leaned against the fridge door, resting my head against the freezer. Some magnets slipped down the length of the fridge and Leighanne groaned and snatched them up and slammed them onto the cold door – hard. She turned back, ferociously, to stir the spaghetti sauce she was making.

“Did you talk to Nick?” I asked carefully.

“He said they had drinks spilled on them and Andrew made a make shift dressing room,” Heather summarized.

“Ah,” I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. I wasn’t sure how to proceed.

I’m so glad Nick follows my advice, I thought bitterly.

“Doesn’t that sound like one of Nick’s bull shit stories to you, Bri?” Heather asked. “Do you think he was – you know - effing her?”

I couldn’t help but smile at Heather’s choice of wording. She was such a sweet girl. I could strangle Nick for hurting her. It was like when Kanye West got on stage and busted up Taylor’s night that time. I’d read an article that said Kanye might as well have stepped on a kitten as done what he did. I pictured Nick stomping on kittens. Many kittens, not just one, because Heather was that many times sweeter than even Taylor is. Don’t get me wrong, Taylor’s sweet as pie, but Heather was like pie with whip topping and ice cream on the side.

Leighanne suddenly shoved me aside, and pulled open the fridge, and shoved the pot of spaghetti into it, on the top shelf, glared at me, and slammed the fridge door. She grabbed her keys off the hook by the door. “BAYLEE?” she yelled.

“Hold on a sec kid,” I said, lowering the phone. “Leigh, where are you going?”

“Out.” She grabbed her purse from the counter and moved to the doorway. “BAYLEE THOMAS WYLEE LITTRELL COME DOWN HERE.”

“Brian?” I heard Heather’s voice echo from the ear piece of the phone.

“Leighanne, what the hell is the matter with you? Where are you going?”

“Like it matters to you where I’m going!” Leighanne snapped. She breezed into the dining room, headed for the stairs. “You probably wouldn’t even notice if you hadn’t seen me grab the damn keys.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“I’m sorry, I thought we were having a family dinner tonight?”

“WE ARE!” I yelled, waving my arm at the table, “What the hell does that look like? A freaking circus?”

“BAYLEE!” she bellowed up the steps again.

“WHAT!” Baylee’s voice was agitated. We’d probably interrupted a Wii session.

“We’re going to McDonalds, c’mon sweetie.”

I rolled my eyes, “Oh please. You can’t wait four fucking seconds while I talk on the phone?” I demanded, feeling my blood pressure about to pop my skull open.

“Nice mouth,” she snapped.

“What is the matter with you?” I demanded, “What are you like PMSing or something?”

Leighanne’s eyes were stone cold. Baylee thumped down the stairs and ran past us, carrying his Playstation portable. He disappeared through the kitchen to the garage door. Leighanne’s eyes never left mine, and Baylee had barely even glanced at us. “Don’t you dare act like this is my fault.”

“I’m sorry, it isn’t? Because I’m the one flipping off the handle right now, right?”

“Maybe if you spent more time listening to me than to Nick’s current whore then maybe you’d know what’s going on between us.” Leighanne shoved by me and out of the house the same way Baylee had just gone. I stared after them, shell shocked and dumbfounded.

“Brian?” I heard Heather’s voice echo through the phone. “Brian? Hello? What’s going on?”

I sucked in a deep breath and held the phone to my ear, “Nothing,” I answered, watching through the front windows as the car backed down the driveway. “Nothing at all.”
Chapter 4 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Four

Nick

"Tell me something."

I looked up from my plate. I know that doesn't sound like a big feat, but I had a huge steak surrounded by a rainbow of steamed vegetables that the cook had seasoned with a light spritz of butter. It tasted like sex. Okay, it didn't really, but it tasted amazing. I met Lauren's gaze and swallowed the huge chunk of broccoli I had just shoved in.

"Yeah?"

"Why is it so important to keep Heather from knowing the truth?"

The question could have signaled major trouble if it wasn't for her calm voice. She wasn't accusing me of being a jerk. She was just...curious. I pressed my fork into the tender meat and watched a little red juice drip out.

"We've been dating for three years," I said slowly. "And Brian's known her since she was like, born."

Lauren nodded. "Mmm."

The 'Mmm' made me feel like I hadn't said enough. I stabbed a pea and took a bite while I thought about it.

"It's really none of my business," Lauren continued. "We're both in agreement that this is just a casual thing. I'm not the commitment type."

Our eyes met again; we smiled.

Lauren's lack of desire for a commitment was just one of the reasons that I was seriously in over my head with the girl. It didn't take a genius to realize that Heather wanted more than what I was giving her. She wanted the ring, the wedding, and the two-point-five kids. The scary part was that it had almost sounded possible six months ago.

But Lauren had reminded me why I liked no strings attached. Since we had hooked up, I hadn't had one nightmare about blue Tiffany boxes. Gone were the cold terror night sweats.

All I had to do was keep lying. It was a good thing I was so damn good at it.

As I devoured my succulent steak, I realized that I wanted to keep talking. Lauren and I had the sex part down pat. The conversation part was slowly developing.

"Now tell me something," I said suddenly. Lauren wiped her mouth and propped her elbows up on the table. Her hands came up to provide a rest for her chin. "Shoot."

"What do you like to do for fun besides have mind-boggling sex with me?"

Lauren laughed. "Who says that's fun?"

"HEY!"

Her foot came out to nudge my leg. "Kidding! No, seriously I like to be outdoors. My dad has this huge boat and we go out on the water and we do a little fishing. I love working out. I like to use old 35 mm cameras and spend hours in a dark room waiting to see what I've created."

The more she talked, the more animated she became. She had me at 'dark room.'

"I've never been in a dark room," I said. (Okay, that was a lie.) "I'd love to see some of your work."

"If you're willing to be my subject, I think I can make it happen."

"Are you implying I actually have to do more work?" I asked. Lauren scooted back in her chair, tossing her crumpled linen napkin next to her plate.

"What did you think you were going to do here? Have me on my back for two straight weeks?"

"Not always your back," I replied. "On all fours...on top..."

Laur pressed her hands into her hips, shaking her head. "It can't always be about sex, Nick..."

I just grinned. Sex was the easy part. There was a small part of me that worried about getting to know more about this freshly blonde vixen. Something told me that if I got to know more than just her bra size that I was going to do something crazy like turn into Brian. Lauren and I would end up wearing matching clothes and I'd be calling her Wifey and--

No, I couldn't do that. Brian's life was boring.

I was happy staying in my two-woman world. For as long as I could drag it out.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

“Brian, something is obviously the matter, I’m not deaf, I could hear that.” I shifted uncomfortably in my computer chair. I’d never heard Leighanne and Brian fight before. I mean typical, light hearted bickering, sure, but not like that.

He let out a shaky sigh. “It’s not a big deal. I just… I don’t know. I need… a break.”

“A break?”

“Yeah. I can’t do anything to please her. I don’t know what to do.”

He sounded so defeated and confused, I just wanted to squeeze him like a little teddy bear. “I’m sorry, Bri,” I whispered.

He laughed, “It ain’t your fault, kiddo,” he said gently.

Brian had called me kiddo since I was three. He was ten. I remember the first time he’d ever called me it. I’d been playing on the playground at the school where he and Chris went to elementary, on one of those spinning merry-go-rounds. My mom was sitting at the end of the big silver slide, reading a romance novel, and I was sitting on the merry-go-round, spinning it slowly so I wouldn’t get dizzy. I didn’t like dizzy. We were waiting for the boys to get out of class so we could go for a walk together to get ice creams. My mom baby sat Brian sometimes when Brian’s mom and dad were busy because Brian liked to play with Chris.

When school let out, though, Brian and Chris were slow coming out, and a bunch of other kids came onto the playground while I was still playing quietly on the merry-go-round. My mom stood up and walked a little bit away, looking for Chris. Suddenly, unattended, this big, fat, mean kid in Brian and Chris’ grade came over to the merry-go-round, and told me to get off of it. He yelled at me, and I said that I was there first and he should go away. Well instead of going away, he grabbed onto the handles of the merry- go-round and started spinning it so fast that everything around me blurred and I couldn’t see anything except colorful lines.

I screamed and screamed for the fat bully to let me down, but he just spun it faster and faster and faster and laughed loud like he was Dracula or something. I could feel the Hostess cupcake I’d had at snack a couple hours before threatening to escape my mouth.

Suddenly, like a roar of a lion, I heard his voice. “Stop it!” and there was a thump and some shouts from other people and a bunch of commotion, and suddenly the merry-go-round stopped going-round and I tumbled off it and onto the mulch that lined the bed of the playground, my stomach whirling like crazy. As my eyeballs stopped spinning, I focused on Brian, all little tiny bit of him, trying to pummel the crap out of the fat bully.

And winning.

When my mom had pulled him away from the fat bully and scolded them both – and the bully had run off crying - we walked back to the car and my mom put me in my car seat. “That was awesome,” Chris was saying under his breath while my mom was outside the car still, “You so crushed Dean.”

Brian leaned forward though, rested a hand on my shoulder, and asked, “Are you okay, kiddo?”

Sometimes I wish that we were still that little and Brian was still pushing bullies off of merry-go-rounds for me every day.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Brian

Leighanne came home a couple hours later and I was sitting at the kitchen table, my hands folded on the table top, a bottle of beer on beside me. I’d hung up with Heather only moments before, our plans set. My mind was made up. All that was left to do was pack.

And tell Leighanne.

She at me with sheepish hesitation as she stepped through the door. She seemed almost crest fallen when she saw the look of determination on my face – set jaw and all, like she’d expected me to forget the blow up we’d had. Baylee bounded into the room, “I totally beat Uncle Nick’s high score, dad!” he shouted, “When we were at McDonalds and I was playing, I got a score of –“

“Go to your room, Bay,” I said.

Baylee looked up at me, and sighed. “You never wanna talk about cool stuff anymore, all you want to do is yell at Mom.” He rolled his eyes and slammed the Playstation on the table before leaving the room.

I sighed and picked up the game, noticing a multi-million point score flashing on the screen before I turned it off and placed it on the table again. I stood up. Leighanne was hovering in the door way. She stared at me, her jaw also setting, the determination rising in her, too. We stared at each other.

“Leighanne,” I said, my voice heavy and sad, “I need a break.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Brian,” she whispered.

I raised my hand to shh her. “I’m going to my mom’s in Kentucky,” I said quietly, “She could use some help with Dad anyway, he’s not been feeling too great. I just need time to unwind, away from…everything.”

“You’ll be gone all summer on the stupid tour,” she protested.

“And by autumn, we’ll see where we stand, okay?”

Leighanne’s tears leaked from her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. “Brian, this is so frustrating. I know I’ve been a bitch to you, and I don’t really know why, but you’ve been a jerk right back, and I don’t – I don’t want this to happen to us. What’s happening to us?”

“I think we’re just… changing…” I said slowly. I sighed heavily and I stepped up beside her and pulled her into my chest. “I just need a break, okay? It doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

Leighanne nodded.

“I’ll always love you,” I added, for good measure. Then – and here’s where I made my mistake, I said – “and it’ll give me a chance to help try to smooth things between Nick and Heather.”

“Between Nick and Heather?” Leighanne looked up at me. “What?”

“Nick cheated on Heather with that Lauren girl he’s got working for him,” I said slowly, “And Heather – well, she needs a break too. We talked, and we’re gonna go home.”

Heather is going?” Leighanne asked, her voice suddenly cold.

“Well Kentucky is home to more than one family, contrary to popular belief,” I said, my voice catching some edge as well.

Leighanne’s tears turned bitter. She shoved me into the counter and stormed out of the room. A moment later, there was thumping on the stairs, and the bedroom door slammed closed.

I sighed.

I definitely needed this.
Chapter 5 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Five

Nick

"She's gone MIA. The florist said no one was home to accept the delivery."

I was frowning at the phone, giving it my sultry death glare, hoping it would give me answers. Instead, Lauren's arm wrapped around my neck; her head pressed against my shoulder.

"She could be out shopping or something."

"She's not answering her cell."

I ducked out of Lauren's hold and twirled my IPhone around in my palm. It wasn't like Heath to just disappear. I couldn't remember a time when she hadn't answered on the first or second ring.

"Dude, the feed's coming through!"

Andrew was waving at me furiously. I was exhausted. I had done two morning shows and an impromptu performance the day before. Now it was ten o'clock in the morning and I was being forced to go through the NKOTBSB routine.

"Dude, can't we just DVR it? I promise I'll do it later."

"Donnie already warned me you'd suggest that. He said you always tell him you DVR Bluebloods to watch it later, but he doesn't think you've watched an episode."

"Fucker," I muttered under my breath. The worst part was that Donnie already knew me too well.

I scratched my ass through my 'Winning' sweatpants as I walked towards the large TV set up in the unoccupied dance studio. Even though I hadn't hopped on the Charlie Sheen bandwagon, I got a kick out of his random slogans. My 'Tiger Blood' tank top completed the attire. I saw D and Joey chillin' in the corner. A second later, J's bald dome pressed right against the lens.

"You better be up and ready to do this! Do you know how fucking late it is here?" He paused and turned around. "What the hell is the time?"

I didn't hear the answer. I was shitty with time zones. As soon as AJ stepped away from the camera, I did a mental boyband inventory. Someone else was missing...

"Where's Bri?" I asked.

"They can't hear you. You can only hear them," Andrew said. He looked up from the computer apologetically. "Sorry, man."

I leaned down, stretching my leg muscles while I tried to get my fingertips close to the ground. "No problem. Let's just get this over with," I sighed.

"If it makes you feel better, I swapped out my SLR today," Lauren said. She squatted down next to the widescreen TV, cupping an old 35 mm in her hand. I smiled. "Dark room?"

Her eyes sparkled. "Maybe."

Andrew looked up. "Dark room? It better not be right next to my room. No offense, but I don't need to see your wanker again," he said, waving his hand at me. His expression changed when he glanced at Lauren. "Now, you..."

"Shut up," Lauren and I said at the same time. My attention was pulled back to the TV as the choreographers came into view. Music began to flood the room and for a second it was like I was really in Cali.

Except for the fact that no one but Lauren and Andrew could hear the curses fly from my mouth every time I missed a step.

Singing came natural. Dancing?

I was never destined to be a swan.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

Gone to Kentucky for a few weeks to think about things. Maybe you should try thinking about what you want too??

I stared at the screen of my phone and for the umpteenth time I erased the message. All around me, people were getting their bags down and heading towards the plane's exit. I had just landed; for hours I had struggled to figure out the words I needed to let Nick know I was tired, hurt, and scared. And yet, nothing worked.

Some writer I was, right?

Sliding my phone back into my purse, I grabbed my duffel and trailed after the last stragglers on the plane. The stewardess gave me a bright, sunny smile that I returned, if only because it just came so natural. I cared about what other people thought about me.

That was why, as if my own problems with Nick weren't enough, ever since Brian had finally let me in on his own issues, I couldn't get him off my mind. More than anything else in the world, I wanted to see him again. He had spent weeks in California before Nick had left for Germany, and I hadn't seen him once. The tour was consuming their lives just like it always did.

But this time things were bad enough that Brian couldn't put work first. The last time we had talked he had mentioned going to a studio in Lexington to practice the choreography via video feed, but other than that our conversations were consumed with going home and seeing our families again.

I couldn't think of anything I needed more than my mom. Except for homemade chocolate chip cookie dough. California bakeries tried to imitate the real deal, but nothing beat Midwestern desserts from a home kitchen.

Just the thought of the gooey batter sent my thoughts back in time. I couldn't count the times that Brian and Chris had come stampeding through the back door of the house as mom was getting ready to drop large spoonfuls of dough onto cookie sheets. Early on, I'd be sitting on the counter; later on, I'd be standing by mom on a stepstool. It was as if my brother and his buddy had a sixth sense that sent off an internal alarm at the slightest inkling that milk chocolate chips were in range.

It was this memory, this mental picture of Brian with his face covered in melted chips that made me smile again. The smile only widened when I heard two words that always made me feel welcome. I whipped around, the tails of my pink flannel shirt slapping against the top of my denim shorts and held out my arms instinctively.

"Hey, kiddo!"

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Brian

Heather wrapped her arms around me and I felt at home at last. I grinned as I held her tight and smiled into that thick, wonderful-smelling hair of hers. I squeezed her tight before letting her go and stepping back to take a long look at her. “Wow, kid,” I said, laughing, “California’s done you good, huh?”

She giggled, “It’s insane what a difference Kentucky Tan and California tan is!” she winked and lowered the edge of her shirt so I could see her tan line.

“What’d you do, try to bake yourself like your momma’s cookies?” I twanged, teasingly poking her in the abs.

She giggled, “I was thinking about my mom’s cookies just now, funny you should mention them.”

“Funny? Aw nawh,” I drawled, “It ain’t funny – it’s just that it ain’t home ‘til those Toll house chips are in my belly.” I rubbed my stomach and Heather laughed heartily. I grinned down at her, “You know it’s true.”

“HEY! Look what the cat dragged in!”

We both looked up to see Heather’s real brother – Chris – come walking towards us. He high fived me over Heather’s shoulder even as he pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. He lifted her off the ground and spun her in the air once, her legs flailing. “Let me down,” she giggled, “Or Brian’ll give you a thing or two, like Dean.

Chris laughed, “Oh Lordy! Brian do you remember pummeling that punkass?” he asked, “That was the best day.”

I smirked, and winked at Heather. Of course I remembered that day. It was the first time I realized I --- well, nevermind. “He was crying like a Betsy Wetsy doll by the time I was done with him.”

“Pretty sure we should’ve checked his britches for Hershey swiss,” laughed Chris.

I laughed, “Gross!”

I swear, it was like I was eleven again.

Fifteen minutes later, our bags were chucked into the back of Chris’ truck and we were on our way to their mom’s house. When the truck pulled into the drive, I recognized my Dad’s old blue pick-up already parked and on the porch sat the droopiest looking dog I’ve ever seen -- Barrett.

Heather gasped and leaped from the truck the moment it had stopped, racing to greet the dog. I smiled stupidly, watching her. Chris adjusted his rearview mirror to stare at me without turning. He smirked. “You’re impossible.”

“How’s that?” I asked, glancing forward at his eyes in the mirror.

Chris laughed, “You just are,” he answered, and he pushed open the door.

“It’s just nice to see her smiling,” I answered, “She’s been so down the last couple days, cos of Nick and all…”

“Remind me if I ever bump into that guy, I’m taking his balls off with a pair of rusty pliers, okay?” Chris asked, almost growling, “Cheating on my sister, what a fucker.”

Chris jumped out of the truck and spit on the ground before walking around to join Heather on the porch with Barrett. I took a deep breath. Exactly I thought, Why I don’t wanna get mixed into this.
Chapter 6 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Six

Nick

"That's gross, man."

Even though it was gross, Andrew couldn't take his eyes off of the sight. Blinking through large drops of perspiration, I held my shirt in my hands, twisting it like one of those Sham-Wow rags. Sweat poured onto the wooden floor.

"No, the gross part will be for whoever has to clean it up," Lauren said. She was hunched over her equipment, carefully packing her lens' away. She gave me a look and I knew exactly what she was thinking.

It suddenly became mass middle-school hysteria. Lauren and I both got out a loud 'Not it!' before Andrew even opened his mouth. He jumped up, his eyes wide like he had just stepped onto a land mine. He looked around the room as if someone else was bound to appear that he could trump his own 'Not it' on, only to meet five of his own reflections in the large mirrors.

"Fuck," he muttered.

"If it makes you feel better, you can bottle the shit up and sell the DNA," I said. "My sisters would probably jump at the chance."

Andrew scowled. I looked around; Lauren had disappeared. We both stared down at Lake Carter.

"Hey," Andrew said, his voice lowered. "It's none of my business, but what happened to Heather?"

"What? Nothing happened. She's at home."

We shared a look. "So you're still--"

"Yes. No. I don't know," I said. "I don't know what I'm doing. Why?"

Andrew grabbed a mop and bucket that was chilling in the corner and began a half-assed attempt at cleaning. "Well, I was just thinking that if you two had broken up that maybe I--"

I almost choked. "Are you shitting me?"

He held his hands up innocently, dropping the mop he was holding onto the floor. "I was just asking! She's a hottie and she's a sweetheart. I usually don't care about the girls you cheat on, but she's put up with a lot of your crap and--"

I groaned. It was like I was hearing Brian's speech all over again.

"I know she's perfect. That's just it. I'm not sure I can deal with perfect. I mean, that's exactly what I needed while I was going through this crap with my heart and my weight loss and stuff. I needed support. But Heather's the type that I can see in a kitchen with two little floppy haired kids holding onto her legs while she makes...meatloaf."

"She makes damn good meatloaf," Andrew said. He gave me a 'What' look as I just glared.

"I know she does. But now that Heather's almost thirty she's getting all biological clock-y on me. When she sees those Kay Jeweler's commercials she gets all weepy. Same with the Huggies' commercials. I'm not ready for that."

"All thirty year old women are like that though," Andrew said. "It just comes with the territory."

The sound of a door opening caught our attention. Lauren walked back in, minus her camera case. She stared at the smeared sweat on the floor and just smiled.

"Do we have time to go out and try some German beer?" she asked hopefully.

"Hell yeah!" Andrew said. The word 'beer' was magic; he seemed to forget entirely what we were talking about. I gave them a nod.

"I'll meet you guys after I take my shower," I said.

Lauren playfully knee'd Andrew's ass. She turned and laughed. "Don't be long. I don't know that I want to be seen in public alone with this one."

"Hey!"

I laughed. "Don't worry. I'm the Lightning McQueen of showers."

The two of them left, bickering good-naturedly back and forth. I finished cleaning up my own sweat and kicked off my pants before heading towards the archaic showers. As I turned on the hot water and felt the ice cold sting pierce my shoulders, I thought about what Andrew said.

He was probably right. Most thirty year old women did want the whole 'fairy tale' thing.

"But not all women," I muttered under my breath.

At that exact moment, Lauren was probably walking past that huge jewelry store we had passed on the way to the studio. I would have bet a thousand dollars that her head hadn't even turned. Her thoughts were on a large stein of beer.

And did Andrew think I was just going to give Heather to him? I wasn't stupid; I knew she put up with a lot of my crap. And maybe, this whole Lauren thing would work itself out of my system by the time my solo tour was over (yeah, right).

I needed Heather. She was my backup. Even if that meant putting a ring on it to keep her with me--

It was probably a good investment.


- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

The thing about a Kentucky home is that it’s always home no matter how long you’ve been away from it. I felt instantly better the moment the old screen door shut behind me, like my life with Nick in Los Angeles was some other world, some other life. The only thing that connected me to it was Brian. We’d had a marvelous afternoon. My mom had indeed baked cookies and pinched Brian’s cheeks. Brian and Chris had played catch with Barrett out back while I sat on the steps and watched. And as the sun started going down, Brian had announced it was time for him to go home and I’d waved from the driveway as the rental car he’d chosen had driven away.

I was sitting upstairs in my bedroom, staring at my laptop screen. When I’d last finished writing, my character, Holly, was dating Bryce, who was cheating with his secretary. Eric wasn’t quite as dreamy as Bryce was, though only because Eric was older than Bryce and had a more boyish charm than Bryce did. Bryce was a fierce animalistic kind of hot. Eric was more… squeezable, pinchable. Eric was the kind of guy that girls do make friends with, the kind of guy that moms approved of. Holly loved Bryce, Bryce loved his secretary, and Eric loved Holly.

I stared at the blinking cursor point on the screen at the end of that sentence and wondered how to explain Eric’s love for Holly. My mind filtered through various things he could’ve said or done, but they all seemed obvious, like Holly would have to be a freaking idiot not to see Eric’s love for her. Then I got a brilliant idea.

I’d use Brian as my model for Eric. I mean, Eric was a good hometown country boy and so was Brian. Eric had to be protective of my female character, and Brian was pretty good at protecting me most of the time. Eric had a lot of the same qualities as Brian. Funny, cute, sweet, kind-hearted. The only difference, actually, was that Holly was going to fall in love with Eric.

I was not in love with Brian.

I knew this because I had a chance to be in love with Brian once, a long time ago, and I let it pass me by.

It was 1997 and the Backstreet Boys were on tour and I hadn’t seen Brian in months. I was seventeen and my Junior Prom was coming up. I was ecstatic. I had the best boyfriend a girl could ask for – aside from Nick, of course – and I had a gorgeous dress. It was seafoam blue with shimmery netting that hung down like petals from my waist. The skirt was hooped and hung in a bell around me. I had a tiara and my hair had been done up in a loose, curly updo that hung with tendrils that coiled on either side of my face. My mother was looping her arms around me to hang my Titanic Heart of the Ocean knock off necklace around my neck.

“You look beautiful,” she whispered in my ear.

“Thanks mom,” I answered, smiling into the bathroom mirror.

She laid her hands on my shoulders, “Now Heather, we need to talk about something important.” I looked into her eyes and I just knew I was about to get the sex talk. I didn’t want my mom to bring up the talk. I had plans, you know? I wanted to end the night experienced, no longer a virgin. And Keith, my date, was the perfect guy to do it with for the first time. He was the captain of the football team and he had dark hair with chocolate brown eyes and wore a letterman’s jacket. He was going to go to college on a full scholarship for football.

My mom opened her mouth to continue talking ,but downstairs, the door banged open loudly and a thunderous shout echoed up stairs, “MA! YOU’LL NEVER GUESS WHAT THE CAT DRAGGED IN!” It was Chris.

Chris had moved out several years before, just a couple months after graduating high school actually. So it was weird that he was at our house at eight o’clock at night. My stomach rolled with butterflies. Could the cat have dragged in my Keith? My mom sighed, “I’ll be right there Chris.”

“Okay, but hurry up,” he said with a laugh, “You never know when the screaming fan girls might come whisk him away!”

“HI MRS. JOHNSON!”

My eyes widened and so did my mother’s. Her mouth curled into a grin and I squealed and ran for the door, both our minds off the sex talk instantly. I flurried down the stairs, holding my skirt high so I wouldn’t trip over it in my hot pink Converse sneakers (yes, that’s what I was wearing under my princess gown, got a problem with that?). “BRIAN!” I squealed.

He looked different than I remembered him. He was better dressed, for example, and his beautiful strawberry blonde curls had been dyed a dark bricky-reddish brown color but it didn’t mask the most bluest eyes in all of Kentucky. I leaped at him and he caught me midair and laughed, “Heyyy kiddo,” he laughed, spinning me in the velocity of my jump before putting me down. He looked me over, “You look like a seasick cupcake,” he said with a snort.

“It’s junior prom night,” I’d laughed, “I’m leaving in just a couple minutes when Keith gets here.”

“Keith?” Brian raised an eyebrow, “Keith – Keith, hmm. Do I know this Keith?”

“Keith… you know, Roland’s younger brother,” Chris said, answering Brian.

“Ah, Roland, yes,” Brian rolled his eyebrows. “Is he a player like his brother was?” he asked me.

“Keith is a gentleman,” I said simply, then added, “Keith is a football player and Keith is—“

“—not coming,” finished my father, a little more giddy than he should’ve been, considering Keith was my date for my junior prom.

What?” I demanded.

“Yep,” my dad nodded, wiggling the cordless phone to show he’d just hung up with him, “Keith called and said to apologize to you but he doesn’t think he’s going to be able to come pick you up tonight as he’s violently ill and he hopes maybe ya’ll can go together next year.”

I’d never felt so heartbroken in all my life. Tears sprang into my eyes and I felt my throat close up. I reached to my forehead dejectedly and took hold of my tiara, pulled it off my head and sank into the chair at the foot of the stairs. I covered my eyes and started to cry.

“What’re you taking your crown off for?” Brian asked, his voice concerned.

“Because I’m not going,” I cried quietly.

“Why?” Brian asked.

“I can’t go alone,” I sobbed, “I’d look like such a loser.”

“Aw you are a loser though, Heath,” joked Chris. I heard my father clear his throat and knew Chris was getting The Look. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Suddenly there were hands on my knees and I blinked up through a blurry wall of tears. Brian was on his knee in front of me. He stared up into my eyes. “I’ll go with you.”

“What?” me, Chris, Dad and Mom all said at the exact same time. My dad followed it up by chuckling and Chris said jinx.

“I’ll go with you,” Brian said, “If you don’t mind me not wearing a tux that is, all my suits are in Orlando…” he smiled gently, “No beautiful woman should go through all the trouble of dressing up all beautiful like and not get to go to the prom.”

I could’ve fallen in love with Brian that night.

But I didn’t.

But that is how Holly would fall in love with Eric.


- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Brian

It felt good to be home. Once my mum had calmed down and stopped smashing me with kisses and hugs and all, I’d settled myself down on the back porch with my dad. The smell of pot roast lingered in the evening air and across the yard, by the creek that rain under the trees that I’d climbed as a child, I could see the tiny glowing dots of lighting bugs. I sipped my sweet tea and rocked in the air quietly.

“How’s Baylee?” my dad asked, “You should’ve brought him with ya, we could’ve gone fishin’.”

“He’s good,” I answered. “Leighanne didn’t want him to miss school.”

“Ah, yes,” dad nodded.

My parents didn’t know I was there to get away from Leighanne. When I’d called them, I’d told them I had a couple weeks while Nick was in Germany and wanted to spend some time with them. I hadn’t told them about the fights. I know they thought it was kind of weird that I’d come alone – they’d prepared for the three of us. I think, honestly, that they’d thought Leighanne was pregnant again and that’s why I was coming , to tell them face-to-face because I’d seen the look of disappointment on my mom’s face and a box of cigars on my dad’s desk.

At least they’d been prepared.

“You seen the Johnson girl lately?”

“Heather?” I asked.

Dad nodded, “Yeah, isn’t she going out with Nick?”

I nodded back, “Yeah. Actually, I met her at the airport. She’s home for a couple weeks, too.”

Dad glanced at me. “She’s here too? Fancy that!”

I smiled. “Yeah. She’s looking great,” I said, “California’s done her great. She needed a break from the pace, too, I guess. She’s been really busy. She’s been freelance-writing you know? That takes a lot of work, doing the research and stuff on the articles. But she’s really good at it. She’s been working on getting a novel she wrote published, but they’re being a little hard on her with it, I guess. Well, that and Nick’s—“ I had been about to say mishap on the plane then realized it was my dad I was talking to and I didn’t really want to describe the photographs of Lauren Kitt hanging out of the hole in the wall of the Berlin Air jet latrine. “—in Germany,” I finished lamely.

My dad nodded. “You know,” he said, “You just said more about the Johnson girl than you did when I asked how Leighanne was.”

Before I could respond, the backdoor slammed open and my mom came out onto the porch. “Dinner’s ready.” She smiled, “Mashed the carrots for ya and everything, Baby Duck,” she added.

I grinned, “Mmm,” I said, glad to be rescued from my dad’s awkward statement. “Can’t wait!” I jumped up and quickly followed my mom inside… acutely aware that my father was staring after me with a smirk on his face.
Chapter 7 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Seven

Nick

"I have the best fans."

"Seeing that, I'm not so sure."

"You know you like it. It's long and fuzzy. Just the way you--"

"What the hell do you have on your head?"

I turned just in time to see Andrew looking at me, half in awe, half in horror.

"A fan just gave this to me," I beamed.

"Was she drunk?" Andrew asked. Lauren smothered a laugh behind her hand.

"Y'know, you guys are jerks."

I whipped out a perfect pout as I swung myself into this horrid orange chair that looked (and smelled) like it was from the 70's. The dressing room left a lot to be desired in terms of design, but I couldn't deny it was comfortable. The chair kinda reminded me of the couch at Heather's mom and dad's house.

Heather. Hmm...

"I just don't think gray's your color," Lauren said.

The flash went off right when I turned to glare at her. She burst out laughing.

"It's Babar on crack!" she announced. Andrew snorted as he handed me my IPad.

"Is this what you wanted?" he asked. I gave a nod as I took it.

"Thanks."

Andrew gave the trunk of my fuzzy, gray elephant hat a flick as he walked off. Lauren crouched beside me, her eyes hidden behind large, dark J-lo-esque sunglasses.

"How's the headache?"

"Better. You shouldn't have let me drink so much," she chastised.

"You were unstoppable," I replied as I powered the IPad on. Lauren clicked her tongue, but she didn't disagree.

The night before, she had left every single man in the bar speechless. As it turns out, Lauren has a penchant for German beer. She was friggin born to down the cold lager...and dance on a couple tables...and turn her navel into my own personal drinking well.

And fall clumsily into my arms. And--

Grace has 16 jellybeans in her pocket. She has 8 red ones, 4 green ones, and 4 blue ones. What is the minimum number of jellybeans she must take out of her pocket to ensure that she has one of each color?

The voice pulled me out of my drunken girlie reverie. White numbers shone against a black background and the mechanical voice sounded like Rosie from the Jetsons. I pursed my lips. I tugged on my trunk. I slid down in the chair. I began to wonder how many jellybeans I could fit in my mouth at one time.

This was how I studied. But why was I studying?

It all started with a promise. Two years into dating Heather, it had become increasingly clear to me that I might be a little low on the 'book smarts' meter. One night (when I was still getting some), we were laying in bed and I mentioned that I had never gotten my GED. Heath had wiggled up on me with those cute, short little legs of hers and made me promise that I'd take the test. With her in that position, I wasn't able to say anything but 'yes.'

And I was kinda keeping my promise. I might have been cheating on her, but at least I was studying.

The funny thing about practice tests is that they always sock you with the really hard questions first. I had forgotten this until I started working my way through the Pre-Algebra section. I fumbled my way through the questions, cussing out the robotic voice, and listening to the soft sound of Lauren's rhythmic breathing as she slept propped against the chair. I was finally hitting some of the easier questions when I heard a click. I looked up just as Andrew began to laugh.

"What the hell, dude?" I asked. Andrew pointed at the screen.

"Six-times-eight? Really?"

I yanked the trunk again, stretching out the wire so that the thing looked really phallic. I made a big show of intently studying the screen and quickly stroking the elephant shaft.

"Six...times... eight..." I said slowly. My hand slid up and down, up and down. I broke into a grin.

"Gotta be sixty nine, bro," I declared. "Right?"

"Shut the fuck up," Andrew laughed. Then he paused. "You're not serious, are you?"

"About the equation or about the pleasure of the answer?"

Andrew mouthed something I couldn't decipher as I turned the IPad off and stood up. Who could concentrate? For some reason, my question caused us to both look down at Lauren. I quietly took off the elephant hat and put it on her head. She smiled in her sleep as I stroked her cheek.

"So about Heather..." Andrew teased. I stopped and stood up.

"What?"

"That look."

"What look?"

Andrew stepped back and tucked his phone back in his pocket smugly.

"You've got it bad."

"What?"

"I don't think I have to tell you, man."

"This?" I asked, pointing at Lauren. "Dude, I just have to go it out of my system. Then I'll be good to go back to Heather."

"Seriously?"

I sighed. "I have to."

"Why? God Nick, you're acting like--"

"You don't understand," I said. "I know in my gut Heather didn't buy the story about me and Lauren crashing through the airplane. I can't just dump her."

"Excuse me? That would be the right thing to do."

I shook my head furiously.

"No, dude. You have no idea. You've never met her brother..."

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

Day two and I was spoiled. More that spoiled. I was in heaven. My belly was full of biscuits and gravy, I had been totally productive on the revamp of my story, and most importantly...

I felt like I was back where I belonged.

My love for Nick had caused me to do a lot of irrational things in the past three years. Like elevator sex. And almost getting breast implants.

And believing stupid stories about turbulence on an airplane.

Now that I was home, I realized that California might have done well for my complexion, but that was about it. There was nothing better than waking up and smelling the sweet dew on the Kentucky blueglass that blanketed the front and back yards. There was nothing like getting spoiled by mama and getting a giant bear hug from my daddy.

And living within two blocks of Chris wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.

A year and a half ago, Chris and his wife Sandra had snagged a house by mom and dad. I remember razzing him on the phone for a half hour straight when he had told me his plan. Chris was the one who had wanted to live in New York City and vacation in Japan. I had always been the one who wanted to stay home and be the little country housewife.

Somehow, our roles had reversed. Chris and Sandra settled down for a life of country living and had a little girl. I had hooked up with Nick Carter and moved to California - all within three weeks.

Yet another irrational move caused by the hot blonde.

I tried to push Nick out of my head as I finished up the breakfast dishes. I was itching to get back to work. Having Brian as my inspiration had given me a whole bunch of ideas that I couldn't wait to play with. I had so many stories stored up of him coming to my rescue. It was amazing that we had packed so much history into our lives, especially since he hadn't resided in Kentucky for nearly half his life now.

"I smell biscuits and gravy. Ma, you got any left?"

Chris' voice was as loud as always. I had never seen my brother make a quiet entrance. I turned away from the sudsy water, wiping my hands on a towel just as mom breezed back into the kitchen.

"Doesn't that wife of yours feed yo---aww, hello pun'kin. Look at that pretty outfit. You're just the apple of gammy's eye aren't you? Well, aren't you?"

Where babies were concerned, mom had lightning quick reflexes. Tessa was out of Chris's arms and into mom's in a flash. I smiled. My little niece looked so much like my brother it wasn't funny, right down to her light brown hair and big blue eyes. She babbled loudly at mom, who proceeded to talk to her in that high, squeaky voice reserved for the smallest of kids.

"Hey midget, hook your brother up with some biscuits and gravy."

Chris swung himself into a chair, grabbed an unused fork and banged it against the table. I put my hand on my hip.

"If I was Sandra, I would kick your--"

"I don't treat Sandra like this. I reserve this special treatment for my favorite sibling."

I scowled. Even so, I grabbed the leftovers I had just stuck in the refrigerator and placed them in the microwave. "Only sibling."

Chris smiled, but the smile was short lived. "Speaking of kicking someone. How about we kick that sorry excuse for a boyfriend to the curb?"

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. There was a grease stain directly over the stove. I couldn't remember a time when it wasn't there. "Chris, please."

"Nick?" mom interrupted. "Is that why you're here? Something's going on with Nick?"

"You didn't tell her?" Chris asked.

I tossed down the kitchen towel. My hands smelled like Palmolive, but the rise in my throat was all breakfast. Mom was giving me one of her looks and I felt the sudden need to find a reason to leave. Tessa bursting into tears was the perfect out. I spied her stroller parked right outside the screen door.

"Gee, I'd love to talk about it right now, but it looks like Tessa might like a stroll around the block." Mom let me take the bawling babe from her arms. "You enjoy some quiet time with your big-mouthed son and I'll be right back."

I flashed them both a smile - a smile that had won me 'Miss Congeniality' at the Cherry Time Pageant Parade two years running. Mom walked over to the beeping microwave, shaking a warning finger my way.

"You better come back."

"Or I'll getcha for kidnapping," Chris added. "Oooh, man, what brand of sausage is that? Smells delicious."

While Chris and mom discussed the new brand of sausage at the grocer's, I headed outside. Tessa wiggled like mad as I strapped her into the stroller. Her screams pierced my ears and the two little teeth she had coming in on the bottom of her mouth almost clamped onto my finger. It wasn't until I started walking at a good clip that she settled down.

"See, this is good," I said, more for my benefit than for hers. "You get time away from daddy and I get time away from the Spanish Inquisition."

Somehow, living in a place all of your life, gives you direction without even consciously planning it. My stride took us towards the park. Summer robins flew overhead, chirping happily in the early morning. A few super moms already had their kids climbing over the playground equipment. I slowed my pace as I neared a bench. I lined the stroller up next to it and scooped Tessa out. Her tears were completely gone. She stuffed her fist in her mouth and gave me a drool-y smile.

"I'm sorry I've been such a bad aunt," I cooed. "I haven't seen you for months."

I pressed a kiss on her cheek and sat down on the bench. The scent of baby powder was like crack; as I bounced her lightly, I inhaled greedily. After awhile, she took her fist out of her mouth and made grunting, babbling motions, her wet finger pointing at anything and everything.

"Grass," I said. Or, "birdie." I was extolling the wonders of the monkey bars across the way when the slight movement of the stroller almost gave me a heart attack. I looked up, shielding my eyes from the direct line of the sun. Tessa, realizing she had lost my attention, looked up and laughed. But what I saw wasn't a laughing matter. The man standing in front of us had on old denim jeans, his old high school jersey, and ginormous Nikes. A basketball was tucked under his arm.

It was a blast from the past. He didn't say anything for a minute and the look on his face sent a weird feeling directly into my stomach. Tessa broke the ice by reaching towards the basketball. Brian's blue eyes danced.

"Good mornin'," he drawled. "I didn't know Babies-R-Us was having a sale."

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Brian


Heather was still staring up at me in surprise as I dropped the basketball to the ground, holding it stationary with one foot, and scooped the baby up from her arms. I stared into the baby’s face. “Good Lord child,” I laughed, “There ain’t no denying who your daddy is. You gotta be Tessa.” I grinned. I hadn’t been home since Tessa had been born. “Lordy Lord does she ever look identical to Chris!”

Heather laughed lightly, shielding the sun from her eyes with one hand. “Yeah, she sure does,” she said, squinting up at me. She watched as I blew kissy noises at Tessa’s face.

The truth? I miss having babies and little kids around. I had the best time with Baylee when he was an infant, I absolutely adored chasing him around in his terrible T’s (‘cos let’s face it, the terribles do not end with two). Spaghetti O’s and tuna fish and Campbells Chicken soup with PBJ were my favorite two lunches now. I was just cut out to have kids around me. But the problem was Leighanne… well, she didn’t really like the baby-stages.

Our fighting had really started there.

If I had a nickel for every time Leighanne got pissed off because I wasn’t home to change a diaper due to tour I’d be a rich--- well, I’d be a richer man, anyways. She’d accused me of never helping out, of not caring, of avoiding responsibility . And with that said, she’d announced that she didn’t want to have anymore kids. Ever. She’d then gone and, without consulting with me first, had the operation.

At first I’d thought it was great – what guy wouldn’t? Until Baylee had gotten bigger and started getting more independent and not needing me and not being – you know – a child any longer. Somewhere around eight years old, they start thinking they’re grown up, stop seeing Dad as superman, and instead realize Dad’s just a goofy old guy.

I missed being superman.

The first argument broke out over the suggestion to adopt. “I told you seven years ago Brian,” Leighanne had hissed, “You don’t have to do the work that’s involved, of course you want more kids. You’ve always got the fun part. I’m always the bad guy.”

But I wanted them so bad.

When I’d confessed these feelings to Nick he’d stared at me, one eyebrow raised, and muttered, “What are you? A friggin woman? You don’t have a utility, Brian.”

“A utility?”

“Yeah, yanno, that thingy the babies like hatch in?”

I’d stared at him for a long moment. “A uterus?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Back in the real world, I handed Tessa back to Heather before I tried to stuff her in my pocket and run away with her. Chris wouldn’t notice, right? Ha. “So what are you two gorgeous ladies up to today?” I asked.

Heather smiled into Tessa’s eyes, “We’re just killing time while mom forgets about the game of Twenty Questions we were about to play.”

“Twenty Questions?” I asked.

Heather nodded, “Yes, your jackass of a best friend – alternatively known as my brother – informed my mother I’m here because of Nick.”

“Oh good Lord.”

“Yeee-ah,” she drawled out. “How exactly do I explain to my mom that Nick fell through an airplane wall while joining the Mile High Club?”

I felt a twist in my stomach. “I dunno,” I said.

Heather sighed. “I wish he took this relationship as seriously as I do,” she said quietly. She looked up at me. “I love him with all my heart Brian,” she explained, “I wish he’d understand that I’m not fooling around with him, that I’m not gonna leave him over silly things, that I really think that he’s - The One.

“To hold you?” I asked, smirking, “And make sure that you’ll be alrii—ii-iiiight?”

Heather raised an eyebrow.

I grinned.

“You’re such a corn cob,” she laughed.

I lifted my Wildcats hat up from my head and tilted it respectfully. “Corn cob, at yer service.”

“So where you headed with that ball anyways?” she asked, eyeing me.

“We have a hot date, me and the ball,” I answered, “We’re gonna make out behind the Monkey Bars.” I kicked the ball up into my arms and pretended to be kissing it. Heather laughed and kicked at me and I jumped out of the way and stuck my tongue out at her. “Gonna hafta kick faster than that, kiddo.”

“Bring the game to my place and I’ll show you know it’s played,” she said in a challenging voice.

“Thems is fightin’ words, kiddo,” I laughed, “I’d hate to burst your sweet lil bubble…”

“Bring it, shawty,” she teased.

“Ooohh, you’re going down, Johnson.” I growled.
Chapter 8 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Eight

Nick

If I could have just one kiss
If that's all it is, I'll know that is over
If I could have just one kiss
If there's something more
We could start over...


The camera was on me. It was fun to pretend I was in the middle of a staring match as I ended a song. I leaned into the mic stand, dragging out each Just One Kiss until I thought I saw a fan in the front row swoon. Applause rang out as I ended my orgasmic series of 'Oh-ohhhhh's.'

A second later, the enthusiastic host was beside me rattling in German so fast that it almost made my head spin. As a seasoned veteran of the biz, I knew that all I had to do was just stand there, smile, and nod even though I sometimes wondered if the host was telling national TV that I was a mule.

"Danke," I said softly. That brought about another round of applause. I ran out into the audience, shook hands, and darted backstage. I was a man on a mission; I had to be across town at my own soundcheck in less than an hour.

"Let's go," Andrew said, slapping me on the back.

I was sweaty and pancaked full of makeup, but I had no choice. I followed him to the waiting town car. The makeup I could try to scrape off; the sweat I couldn't fix. I was only going to get sweatier. My only consolation was that I had plaid on my side.

My plaid wardrobe had greatly increased since I had started dating Heather. She said there was something sexy about it that brought the country out in me. I didn't argue, and the fan response was great. But sometimes I thought it made me and Bri look like a less boob-a-ful version of the Doublemint Twins.

I was almost done scraping the left side of my face and Andrew was cursing at crazy German traffic when my cell rang. I didn't recognize the number at first, but another glance told me that it was coming from Kentucky.

Kentucky?

"Hell-lo?"

"Nick? This is Marietta."

I almost pulled the ultimate mistake of saying - 'Who?' - but luckily, at the last second I remembered. Heather's mom.

"Hi," I repeated. I was going to go with a traditional 'What's up?,' but that didn't seem appropriate. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Andrew turn to me, mouthing the words back. I held up a finger.

"I want to know what's going on with you and Heather," she said sweetly.

Crap. What did she already know?

"Nothing that I know of," I said, preparing myself for a sudden international reaming. "I'm in Germany and Heather's home working on her boo--"

"No, she's not."

"She's not?"

"She's here. Actually, she's playing basketball with Chris and Brian to avoid talking to me."

Fuck. So that explained why she wasn't answering my calls. She really WAS pissed.

"What a nice surprise for you!" I said in faux-happiness. My mind raced. "Wait, Brian's there too?"

"Yes. It's just like old times," she drawled. "But I want to know why," Marietta pressed, the whole 'mama bear' tone creeping into her voice, "why my daughter isn't with you."

I tossed the soggy Kleenex I was using to scrap the makeup off my face onto the seat. "There was a slight misunderstandi ng, but it works into my...uh...surprise," I rambled.

"Surprise?" Now I had her mother's interest.

"Yeah, a surprise," I said, my wheels turning. "Actually her being with you guys is perfect. Perfect. I'm gonna need you to keep her there until I fly in. I'll be there May 13."

"What's the surprise?"

I leaned forward and lowered my head between my legs. I thought about Lauren's naked body lying under mine. Then I thought of Heather's pink little apron hanging on the refrigerator at home. I'd had Lauren for about three months. I'd had Heather for three years. I had a week and a half to get Lauren out of my system. I could do it. Say it, Carter.

"Well, I think I need to talk to her dad too, but..." I felt the sweat taking care of the rest of my makeup. It was coming off in rivlets. "I want to marry your daughter."



- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather


“I do believe I’m winning. Against both of yall.” I bounced the ball at Brian and he caught it instinctively, though he did look a little shell shocked and worn. He glanced at Chris, who was doubled over, holding his knees, panting.

“Buck up, bro,” Brian drawled, slapping Chris on the back, “We can’t get slaughtered by a girl.”

“I can’t,” Chris wandered to the sidelines and collapsed on the grass beside Tessa, who was cooing from her stroller. He groaned as he closed his eyes and covered them with his hands.

I looked at Brian. “Forfeit?”

Brian bounced the ball back to me. “No way. I’m not being beat by a girl,” he said.

“Well,” I said slyly, “You better get used to the idea.”

I quickly dribbled the ball, maneuvered myself around the driveway, backing into Brian’s chest and pushing him back toward the net, then spun and leaped up, pounding the ball into the net. Again.

Chris laughed from the grass. “Oh God, just give up, Bri,” he called, “She’s embarrassing you.”

Brian laughed and reached for the ball as it bounced away, then he dribbled, and quickly scooted down the driveway and about-faced to come back and dunk into the hoop. When he jumped off the ground, so did I, and somehow I ended up jumping on him. Brian toppled backwards onto the grass, me on top of him, straddling his body, my chest smashed against his chest, both of us breathing heavily from the game.

We laid there on the grass like that for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes. It seemed to last a lifetime. Brian’s blue eyes searched mine, then, he laughed and rolled and dumped me into the grass. “Good Lord,” he muttered, his face pink.

“Right?” I laughed. I struggled to my feet and dusted myself off. A quick glance over my shoulder revealed that my brother was staring at us with a goofiest looking smirk on his face – one that I knew all too well… it was the same look that Chris gave me when he was about to tattle on me to mommy. “What are you looking at, Mr. Cat-That-Swallowed-the-Canary?”

Chris shrugged. “Not a thing,” he replied. He picked Tessa up from her stroller, pulled her onto his hip and let her sit upon his arm. He grinned as he kicked the stroller closed and hung it over his opposite forearm. “See you inside?” he asked, and headed for the house.

Brian jumped up from his position on the ground like he was some kind of crazy gymnast. He dusted off the seat of his pants and looked me over. “Good game, kiddo,” he said with a smile. “Gotta give ya a hand, you kicked some serious ass.”

Somehow ass sounded like a terrifically terrible word because it had poured out of Brian’s mouth. It was like being 5 years old and hiding behind the swings on the playground and saying every naughty word we could think of… like poop.

I giggled.


- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Brian

That night, I was exhausted, but happier than I’d been for a very long time.

I was sitting at the desk in my old bedroom from high school in my parent’s house, surfing the net and trying to decide what sort of thing would qualify as special. I leaned back in the chair, folded my arms over my chest, and closed my eyes, thinking about how the day had gone. It had been the first time I’d felt completely comfortable with a woman in a long time. Too bad it hadn’t been Leighanne.

The idea of Leighanne playing basketball made me laugh. She was far too much of a girly girl to want to bounce the ball around with me in the driveway. I imagined her squealing over dirt on her Wylee shirt or not wanting to shoot the ball because she was too afraid to break one of her freshly manicured fingers.

Really, it was a wonder I’d ended up with someone like Leighanne in the end. I’d never been into the kind of woman who knew what nail beds were. Not to mention one who would train me to care about nail beds. I mean -- please. I’m a Kentucky boy. I like dirt and skinned knees and sweating from hard work in the sun. My first job had been mucking out the stables at Uncle Jerald’s barn with Kevin and Harold. I was in my element in the mud.

When I brought Leighanne home in 1996 for the first time, I remember Chris’ reaction. He’d pulled me aside, “A Barbie doll? Really?” he’d laughed. “Is she licensed by Matell?” he joked.

“She’s gorgeous,” I’d said.

“Yeah, she certainly is pretty to look at,” he agreed – who couldn’t agree with that? But he’d hesitated. Finally, he’d said, “High maintenance, though, I’m guessing?”

“So she needs a couple hundred a month to pamper herself. Isn’t that what being a rockstar is for? Being able to spoil the ones you love?”

He nodded absently, staring at her from across the room. “I guess we just all assumed you’d end up with ---“ he stopped mid-sentence, laughed then said, “You know, a tomboy.”

Leighanne had been leaning against the kitchen counter, talking with Heather, who had her hands wrist-deep in meatloaf. At sixteen, Heather was still a tomboy. She had a smudge of ketchup on her cheek and her hair was hanging in a messy ponytail. She looked like an exact opposite of perfectly polished Leighanne, who looked so hot in a sun dress printed with giant red tulips.

“I guess I always thought so too,” I said, watching the two women talking and smiling across the room. “ But you know… things change,” I answered.

I realized my mind had gone off on a tangent, and opened my eyes to find my screen saver blinking at me from the computer. I ran my fingers over the mouse touch pad. The beauty about Heather, I thought to myself, was that she was so opposite of Leighanne. I guess that’s what made us such good friends.
Chapter 9 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Nine

Nick

A week and a half flew by. But really, how couldn't it? Between my TV appearances, my record store signings, the soundchecks, concerts, and being constantly followed by rapid (gorgeous) European fans, I was exhausted.

Besides, I was pretty sure time had sped up because the world was about to end. I, Nick Carter, was about to fly to Kentucky, buy a ring, and pr...pr...

Yeah, that.

Needless to say, the night before my flight, I wasn't in a great mood. My chopsticks were like daggers to the little bits of sushi on the smorgasboard. I drizzled a tiny bit of wasabi sauce on the corner of my plate and turned to look at Lauren.

She somehow had gotten prettier in Germany. I don't know how, but she did. She looked up at me with a knowing smile as I settled in across from her.

"What time does your flight leave?" she asked.

"Three a.m."

"Did you even know there was a three a.m.?"

I smiled. "That's usually my bedtime."

We laughed and started to eat in companionable silence. I felt the toe of her pointed flat shoe graze against my leg. That was always a good sign.

"So I've decided I can't let you leave," she said. I waited for her to say more, but she picked up her small cup of tea and sipped, her eyes devouring me over the rim.

"You can't let me leave?" I asked. She shook her head.

"You didn't keep your promise."

"What promise?"

"I have a whole roll of film in my purse and it needs developed."

Hot damn. I had forgotten about the dark room. How the hell did I forget about the dark room?

"I'm sure we can find a nice, small room to do it in," I said, my voice lowering dramatically. Laur laughed, but a second later, the laugh faded into seriousness.

"Nick, why are you doing this?"

My eyes widened. "Doing what?"

The tips of her fingernails tapped against her teacup. "We both know we're going to end up having sex while those pictures develop. And yet, tomorrow you're going to fly into Corn Country, USA and propose to a girl you can't stay faithful to. Why?"

"Once I'm married, I'll be faithful. This is like the bachelor party," I argued.

The look I got back screamed bullshit. "Really?"

"Yeah, I mean...I can't keep doing this forever, can I? Besides, she is good for me." Suddenly, I realized who I was talking to. I tugged at the collar of my shirt. "Not that you're not good, but--"

"I'm not that kinda girl." She smiled. "But I have a goal."

The tone of her voice sent my adrenaline pumping. "A goal?"

She scooted back. I watched as she stood, her long frame swaying as she walked around the table to me. She nudged the table back with her hip and settled into my lap. My arms wrapped around her slender waist. Her hair tickled my arms as her lips met mine. I tilted my head back, savoring the contact of our two tongues wrapping around each other like cobras. When she pulled back slightly, I felt her nails dig into my shoulders. Her lips were still so close that they continuously brushed against me as she spoke.

"I'm gonna rock your world so hard that I'll always be the girl you'll want...and that you'll never forget." I didn't answer; she didn't give me time. But as she became my own personal sushi buffet (we had to warm up, you see), I realized something she didn't:

Even without the dark room, I was never going to stop lusting (gulp - loving) Lauren Kitt.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

"I can't believe this thing is still standing. This should be a historical monument or something."

I laughed as Bri's voice sailed up to me. My hands were wrapped around the frayed rope ladder. My body twisted and turned awkwardly until I had a grip on the wooden frame. With a grunt, I hoisted myself up and scooted back. A moment later, Brian's head popped through the hole. Even though the sun was setting, I could see the sparkle in his eyes.

"This brings back a lot of memories."

For the past week and a half, I couldn't think of one moment that hadn't brought back a lot of memories. Finding out my brother had transferred his old tree house (aka boys club) to the backyard of his house had just been the icing on the cake.

"You know how bad I always wanted to come up and see what you guys were doing up here?" I asked in mock hurt. Bri rubbed his hand through his hair, scattering it messily. It was longer that I had remembered; perhaps the Kentucky air had rejuvenated life into more than just our psyches.

"Chris made the rule," he explained. He pointed past my shoulder. I turned to make out the crude 'No Girls Allowed' sign.

"I don't think that applies anymore," I said. "He was telling me he's going to remodel this place for Tessa."

We both laughed. "I can see it now," Bri said, holding up his large hands. "Lace curtains, a tea table, and a bright pink tiara painted on the side."

Looking at the place as it was, the idea was absurd. Yet, somehow, I really could see it. I felt the smile forming on my face.

"Times sure change, don't they?" I asked softly.

"Yes, they do."

The tone of Brian's voice was melancholy. I looked at him, noticing the pained expression between his eyes. He caught my stare and visibly shook it off. In the next second, he was walking across the floor on all fours. He began to laugh.

"What?"

"It's still here," he muttered, more to himself than to me.

Curiosity had always been my weakness. I slid over to where he was, my shoulder pressing against his. He was staring at the wall, a wall that had several scratches in it.

"What is it?" I asked.

His grin was contagious. Even though I had no idea what had gotten him so excited, I couldn't help but share his enthusiasm.

"This," he said, tapping the scratches. "Was the Summer of 91 bet."

I looked back at the wall in confusion. "Bet?"

Bri sat back. I pulled up my legs, wrapping my arm around the smooth, bare skin. It was unseasonably warm in Kentucky, my hair clung to my clammy neck.

"Chris and I had a bet to see how many girls we could kiss by the end of summer," Bri said with a laugh. "Anytime we got one, we scrambled up here and put a scratch on the wall."

I squinted at the wall. Sure enough, there was a rough 'C' and 'B,' both with lines underneath. But 'C' had almost a dozen. 'B' had three.

"What happened?"

Bri tapped the marks. "That was the summer I started dating Sam. You probably don't remember..."

"I remember," I said quickly.

Boy, did I remember. I had been nine. That was the summer that I had developed a little crush on my older brother's best friend. It had been a stupid thing, a result of seeing Brian in Grease. I had been obsessed with all things Grease for two years; ergo, I had developed a newfound love for the sixteen year old boy the night I sat enraptured in the audience.

Mom and dad had put Chris in charge of watching me one night while they went out to dinner with the Littrells. Chris had other ideas. He obviously went out to work on another tally for the wall and left me alone. It didn't take long for my nine year old self to get bored. I remember grabbing our old basketball and heading over to the Littrells to see if I could beg for a game.

What I got was so much more. Brian had his own plans while his parents were away.

I remember hearing noises as I approached his backyard and just feeling happy that he had stayed home. I quietly slid the stick that kept the wooden gate closed aside and wiggled my stick skinny, non-developed body through. My goal had been to scare him. It was so funny to see his face contort. He would hold his chest and scream 'Lizabeth, I'm coming to join ya!' which was a line from an ancient TV show.

As soon as I was in the backyard, I slid behind a large azalea bush. I peered through the branches, trying to hone in on my target. When I finally spotted him, my prepubescent mouth dropped open.

Brian was in the hot tub. He was shirtless. He had a girl with him. He was kissing her. She was making noise.

My little girl heart broke. I ran off as fast as I could. To this day I know that he never suspected I was there.

And from the time I was about thirteen, I realized that he had been making muffins with Sam in that hot tub.

"I didn't care about the bet after that," Brian was saying. I had a feeling I had missed a little story, lost in my own thoughts. Bri was smiling at me and I was still thinking about Sam. He didn't play games. He was faithful. Leighanne didn't know how lucky she was...

Mortification struck as I felt the first tear slid down my cheek. Then a second. A third. I slapped my palm to my skin. I caught the glimpse of sympathy in Bri's eyes right before I turned away.

"Aw, Heath," Bri said quietly. "Why the tear?"

His hand wrapped gently around my shoulder. I stared at a really old cover of a Wheaties box featuring the Wildcats that had been nailed to the opposite wall. It was yellowed and beginning to disintegrate. The tears fell over the palm I was still holding to my face.

"I'm never going to get it," I said morosely, the gentle squeezing motion on my shoulder breaking my barrier.

"Get what?" Bri whispered.

A salty drop hit my mouth. I ran my tongue over it, my misery mounting. "I'm almost thirty. I wanted to be married by now. I wanted to start having children. I thought Nick was the one, but now I'm back at home and I'm terrified at having to start all over. All my college friends are talking about diapers and mortgages and all I've got to show for my life is a romance story I've rewritten a dozen times that everyone..." I took a breath and shuddered at the illicit word ready to spill from my mouth. "Everyone fucking hates. And why? Because I suck at romance. That's why."

The power of cussing did me in. I dropped my soggy face to my knees and just let loose the most dramatic cry of my life.

At the same time, I felt Bri's hand leave my shoulder.

I knew at that moment that I had even scared off my knight.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *




Brian

It scared the bejebus out of me, like the Lochness monster rising out of the depths of the dark pools of Hell. My shirt collar suddenly felt tighter, like in some B-rated cheesy horror movie Nick would be watching on the bus. Attack of the Killer Tuxedos. I barely felt my hand fall away from Heather’s shoulder, my throat was swelling with a gigantic lump. My hand balled into a fist – to restrain myself.

See, Heather’s words had done more than broken my heart. They’d broken my image of her. Ten seconds ago, she’d been Chris’ little sister, a pint sized pain in my ass whose diaper I’d clumsily helped to change. Then she suddenly became a woman. Gone was the kid with the skinned knees and the PBJ stains around her mouth… Instead, sitting in front of me was a woman whose chest was heaving as she cried, and whose chest had very –uh- erect –uh- you know, nipples, and who was so not a little girl that it made my –uh- you know also –uh- erect.

This was not good.

“I gotta go,” I gasped. And I slid across the floor quickly and attempted to drop into the hole.

No puns intended?

Heather looked up, a panicked, desperate expression on her face. “I’m sorry,” she begged, “Please don’t leave. Please. I’m sorry. I know Nick’s your best fr—“

“Nick is an ass,” I snapped quickly, interrupting her. “I need to go.” I dropped to the ground without using the rope ladder and hit the grass rolling, sprung to my feet and sprinted across Chris’ back yard, even as Heather leaned out the window, screaming for me to wait and come back.

I was high tailing it, my mind on overload, my heart slamming in my chest. I was more than halfway to my parents’ house before I slowed my sprint to a run, and even closer by the time the run dissipated to a jog, then a trot and finally a slow, tired walk. After a moment of that, I doubled over, crouched and held my ankles and breathed.

More than the boner – which was definitely a problem – what was bothering me was the fact that it was there because of Heather Johnson, Chris’ sister.

I’d wanted to lean over and kiss her. I’d wanted to comfort her… to touch her… to taste her… to be in her.

I shook my head. “Chris would kill me,” I said to my sneakers on the pavement below me.

And that brought on a whole new wave of guilt.

What kind of friend was I? Heather, at her very most vulnerable moment, had just confessed her fear into me, and I’d run away. I’d run away. Worse! I’d been ready to take advantage of her, and then run away. She probably thought I was mad at her, and I wasn’t .I was just terrified of the feeling that had coursed through my body, of seeing Heather as though she were a woman instead of Chris’ little sister.

And also terrified that, had I tried, she might have said no.

What would have happened, I wondered, if I’d done it? If my mouth had touched Heather’s, if my hands had moved to her breasts, if I’d squeezed them between my fingers, if I’d let my tongue touch her skin, taste her flavor…

Oh my God.

I could’ve destroyed everything. I could’ve destroyed a lifetime of friendship in one stupid, careless, thoughtless move.

I had to apologize, like now.

I turned around and started walking back to Chris’ house.

When I got to Chris’ driveway, I looked ahead and saw him sitting on his front stoop with Tessa in his arms, watching me as I made my way up the driveway. When I got to him, he held up his hand. My car keys danged from his forefinger. “Forget something?” he asked.

I rubbed the back of my neck nervously. “Heather didn’t leave, right?”

Chris shook his head.

“Where is she?” I asked.

“Still out back,” Chris answered, “She was screaming your name for quite awhile there…” he paused, staring at me. “Might there be something we want to talk about, Brian?”

I shook my head. “Just a misunderstandi ng.”

Chris stared after me and I started to walk around the house to the trees our fort was in. I paused at the corner of the house. “Hey Bri?” he called.

“What?” I asked.

Chris stared at me, “If you hurt her, don’t think I won’t kick your ass as much as any other person’s.” And with that, he didn’t wait for an answer. He stood up and went inside the house with Tessa on his hip.

I rehearsed my apology all the way out to the tree house. Heather was still inside. I climbed the ladder until my head popped through the door. Heather looked up at me tearfully. “Brian?” she choked out my name.

I’m sorry I was an asshole Heather is what I meant to say. What I actually said though?

“Do you wanna go out to dinner tonight? Just you and me?”

Heather stared at me for a long moment, then she said, “I thought you’d never ask me.”

The strangest part of it all, though, I didn’t realize until I’d crawled into my passenger side car and turned the engine on. I’d felt so guilty about my relationship with Heather that I’d forgotten to feel guilty about two things:

1) Her boyfriend, my best friend, Nick.
2) My wife.
Chapter 10 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Ten

Nick

"I met this girl at your last show and she offered me the use of her darkroom."

"Did you show her the frog chimp?"

Lauren laughed. "I'm surprised you haven't been kicked out of Germany for walking around and showing everyone that thing. It's gross."

"It's epic. Everyone needs a good frog every once and awhile."

"Every once in awhile? I think you're a multi-frogger."

Lauren stopped in front of an old brick building and yanked open the glass door. I leaned towards her, grinning.

"But you like my chimp--"

"IN!"

I laughed as I followed her instructions. My heart squeezed uncomfortably as she took my hand and led the way. The whole frog chimp banter was just another thing that I loved about being with Lauren. Heather would have realized what the chimp was doing in that video and shut it off. Lauren had curled up on my lap and watched the whole thing, helping me with a running commentary while we began munching on apples.

In my mind, I had a different image of a darkroom then what it really turned out to be. For one, it was loaded with equipment. Walk space was minimal. Harsh lights dangled overhead and two large spotlights were positioned at an angle coming out of the wall and aimed right at a large basin.

"You look disappointed."

Laur swung her bag up on a table and began yanking out...stuff. I shoved my hands in my pockets.

"I'm not disappointed," I said. "I just thought it would be more...Ghost-like."

"Ghost-like?"

"Yeah, yanno, where Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore--"

"That's pottery. This is photography."

"I know, but--"

"You'll be using your hands in a second."

She said it with a smile. She had her hair (blonde, sigh) pulled up in a french braid. The loose peasant top tried, but failed at hiding her killer body. I rocked from foot to foot and kept my eyes on her. Slowly, I began to relax. Watching her was cathartic for some reason. "We'll develop these as black and whites," she explained. "If we did color we'd have to work in pitch black and since you're a novice--"

"I work great in pitch black," I said. Laur's eyes sparkled.

"Maybe with me, but not around chemicals."

I watched as she poured a large bottle or two in the basin. I had seen enough horror movies that included random chemicals as part of the torture that I didn't push any farther.

"A little light's good," I said aloud.

In fact, it was good. She flipped on the angled lights and warm red light flooded the room. It got kinkier when she flipped off the mainlight.

"It's the red light district," I whispered, my head tilted up to the ceiling. Laur's fingers gripped my scratchy chin, yanking my gaze back down.

"Watch and learn."

Now, I tried to be a good student. I really did. She was a great teacher. But she was also a great teacher with an amazing ass. And the room was so small. It wasn't really my fault I ended up grabbing her hips and pushing her back against me.

"When do we get to the step where we have to occupy our waiting time?" I asked. I slid my hand up her side and around to the front. The loose material of the blouse was no match for my roaming thumb and forefinger. She sucked in a breath as I made nipple contact.

"Two minutes," she said breathlessly.

I have to give her credit. Her concentration was totally fucked, but she still managed to do...well, whatever the hell she was doing. I had stopped being a good student about five minutes in. Finally, she clipped the last picture up, yanked off her gloves, and spun around. The red light on her blonde hair made her look like she was glowing. All of a sudden I realized she looked like that one really hot babe from World of Warcraft.

Zing.

I'm not sure how much time passed after my 'zing' moment, but Lauren's hands were pressed into the counter where she had put her camera bag and we had ditched frog chimp for doggy when I distinctly heard a sound outside of the darkroom door. At first I chalked it up to one of Lauren's moans, but pretty soon I heard it again. My hands pressed into her slender bag and I leaned down closer to her.

"Someone's out there," I whispered.

"What?" Laur asked distractedly. "No, no...keep going."

Two things happened at that exact moment. The first was that the red lights went off. Lauren and I were bathed in blackness.

The second thing that happened was the door opened.

I know it doesn't sound romantic, but I still had my pants hovering around my ankles. For once, that worked out to my advantage. I made fast work of penguin stepping back and yanking them up.

"Hello?" I called. I felt like I had somehow gotten a role in a remake of Hostel or Saw. I screamed like a girl when a hand wrapped around my arm. A flashlight flicked on right in my face. The girl looking at me couldn't have been older than twenty. She had light brown freckles scattered over her cheeks and her hair was done in rasta braids. No joke. She smiled and began to ramble in German.

My German wasn't good. People fed me lines, I repeated said lines, and that was it. My mouth fell open as she stopped and seemed to be waiting for me to respond. Her hand kept squeezing my arm. I turned and looked at Lauren. She ran her hand over her skirt, her face flushed.

"This is the Hilda. She owns this place."

"Uh...danke," I said.

Hilda's eyes lit up. She pointed at Lauren and started rambling all over again. Lauren looked as lost as I did. Hilda seemed to catch on when neither of us responded to her a second time. So, she did what anyone with a language barrier would do.

She used action. She walked over to Lauren, grabbed her arm, and pulled her out of the darkroom. I had taken exactly three steps towards the exit, when Hilda spun around.

"Nick, I think-" Lauren said loudly. Hilda slammed the door right in her face. I heard the lock turn...

And then she turned off the flashlight.

Uh-oh. I was stuck in the pitch black with some German chick. Something told me my 'danke' had just committed me to something that I didn't want to do. And even if I had wanted to do it (which, I didn't), I didn't have time.

This had been my swan song with Lauren. My plane was set to leave in a little over two hours.

Somehow I didn't think Heather's mother would believe I missed my flight because I was being raped in a German darkroom.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

I was so excited. I was about to get some killer notes for Eric and Holly. Dinner with Brian was going to be fun, of course (most things with Brian are fun after all), but I needed to make sure that it was also partly business as well. After all, Brian was Eric, wasn’t he? I needed to study Brian and take notes about things like mannerisms and the way he held his fork. I needed to know all his little idiosyncrasies that would bring the third dimension to the character. The readers had to adore Eric the way that I adored Brian. Except even more. They had to want Holly to end up with Eric in the end.

Like people had once thought about Brian and I.

I remember Brian’s wedding in 2000; I was one of the “best men”. Chris took the ultimate honor as the official best man, but I’d joined the crowd of people that he’d had standing by his side at the altar, dressed up like penguins with pale carnations pinned to our chest. I’d been given a form-fitting women’s tuxedo style outfit and a tie. It was so silly, but it was so Brian.

My mother and I were sitting in the private room across the hall from the boys’ dressing room, where Chris and Brian and the other fellas were shouting anxiously. Mom had closed the door to afford us some peace and was braiding my hair so that the top hat I’d be donning during the ceremony would sit slightly crooked on my cranium. She smiled quietly as she smoothed flyaway hairs from my face into the braid. “I can’t believe Brian’s getting married,” she said tenderly.

“I can,” I answered. “Brian was bound to get snatched up by someone. He’s a great person.”

“I just can’t believe it’s not you that’s going to be walking up the aisle,” she said quietly.

“Mo-ohm,” I groaned, “Please – this is BRIAN we’re talking about.”

She smiled sadly, “I know, I know… I’m sorry, but honey, I honestly thought you would end up together in the end. So didn’t Jackie. He’s just always been so gentle with you.”

“Ew, no! That’s like incest, practically,” I said, scrunching up my nose. “God, it’s people like you that give Kentucky a bad name, ma!” But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that her words were crawling under my skin, tingling somewhere under my left breast. In my heart. I swallowed and tried to shove it from my mind.

Suddenly the door creaked opened and Brian’s head poked in. He smiled, “How’s we doin’-doin’ ober heres?” he asked in a goofy voice only Brian could speak with. He smirked and came in the rest of the way once he’d seen that we weren’t like naked or something.

“I think we’re done actually,” my mother said, standing up and smiling at me. She smoothed the very last piece of my hair behind my ear and turned to Brian with sad, doe-like eyes. “You’re the most adorable groom there ever was,” she told him.

“Thanks Marietta,” Brian said, smiling. “And speaking of adorable,” he’d turned to me. “Look at you, kiddo!”

My mom petted Brian’s arm carefully and said, “Well I’m going to go get myself a seat on your side of the church before it fills out and they make me sit out in the street.” She pecked his cheek. “Leighanne is a lucky woman,” she said quietly, “You’re a wonderful man. I can only wish that there were more men like you left in the world.” And with that, she scurried out of the room.

Brian waited until my mom had left the room before he turned to me. “Since you weren’t interested in the bachelor party…” he held up a tiny bottle of liquor and two teeny tiny, thumb-sized shot glasses he’d popped into his pocket. He dropped them on the side table I was seated next to and filled them before handing me one and holding his own. “To my favorite best man.”

I blushed. “To my favorite groom.”

Brian laughed, “I’m the only groom.”

I nodded. Suddenly my mouth felt dry around him. Suddenly, everything seemed to be spiraling like crazy. Suddenly Brian was Brian. And it was then that I realized I had secretly always thought I’d end up with Brian, too.

But I’d gotten over it. I’d stood there at the alter, and watched as Brian’s face light up as Leighanne Wallace walked up the aisle between the pews. I’d seen the solidarity in his eyes as he’d spoken the words I do and watched as their mouths touched, sealing the deal with a kiss.

I’d let him go before I ever knew I’d been holding on.

But I was a big girl now and Brian was a married man.



I’d been tempted to pull out my teal prom dress, which mom had carefully preserved all these years. She even still had the tiara. For your little girl someday she’d said when I asked her why she was keeping it. I fingered the material as it hung in the closet. But I’d settled on a quaint yellow gingham sundress and I stuck a small sunflower in my braided hair. I stood by the mailbox in my dress and Converse sneakers until Brian pulled up. He stopped the car and got out to open the door for me and smirked as I climbed in. He pointed at my sneakers, “Some things just never change, huh?”

“My feet need to be comfortable,” I said, “Besides, God only knows when I might have to jump up and sprint after you.” I stared at him pointedly.

Brian flushed, and quickly closed the door.

Four hours later, I was laughing so hard I thought I’d split a seam and my stuffing would fall out as Brian bounced from foot to foot, wildly wielding the plastic and foam hammer, playing Whack a Mole. He was shouting and making crazy sounds – noises only Brian was capable of making – springing about in his big goofy white sneakers like he was Speedy Gonzalez or something. “I’ll get yoooou!” he sang out, the oooo ringing in the arcade.
All around us, activity flurried, but I’d only been concentrating on Brian for the past several hours. I had about a million notes crammed into my head about things that Eric could do that would make any reader fall madly head over heels in love with the character. I’d never felt so inspired to go home and work on my novel as I did at that instant. Basing the character on Brian had been the best idea I’d ever had in my entire life.

“Here,” Brian gasped, breathless and holding up his weapon of mass mole-struction to me. “You try.”

I laughed, “I’m okay, thanks though.”

Brian put the mallet down on the game and studied me a second. His eyes traveled from my head to my toes and he smiled. “You’re pretty,” he said.

It was so out of the blue that I was caught off guard. “Excuse me?” I asked.

Brian laughed, “You’re pretty. I just never noticed before.”

“Are you saying I’m usually ugly?” I blinked in surprise.

Brian snorted, “Aw kiddo, you’re funny.” He wrapped an arm over my shoulders. “No I’m saying you look extra pretty is all.” He tucked me closer to him and I felt safe as he led me through the arcade and out the door onto the sidewalk and the night air.

We’d gone to dinner at our once favorite diner and enjoyed some small talk over frappes and burgers and Brian had listened to me as I talked about my insecurities about Nick. He’d nodded and munched his fries, and amazingly had not run off like he had that morning. Of course, I didn’t sob quite like I had in the tree house, either. Somehow it was harder to feel sorry for myself when Brian smiled.

The sidewalk was nearly empty at this time of night, and the few yet still beautiful lights of downtown twinkled at us, like they were winking knowingly. I’m not sure why, but I suddenly felt like I was on a date instead of just a thing with a friend and I wondered what Brian was feeling.

I shivered.

“Aw kid,” he untucked his arms from around me and pulled off the loose-fitting flannel shirt he’d worn over his t-shirt. He slid it over my shoulders. “I know it’s not a whole lot,” he laughed, “But I didn’t bring my jacket.” He smiled.

I breathed deeply, smelling the Safari cologne he’d always worn on the fabric. I looked at him, “Thanks, Brian.”

“You must be tired,” he said, reading into my shiver. He glanced at his watch. “And no wonder, it’s late!” He laughed, “Let’s get you home, Cinderella, before you turn into a pumpkin.”

When we reached the house, Brian walked me to the stoop like the gentleman he’s always been. He held my hand. I stare down at the place our hands met, where our fingers coiled around eachother. I stared at the slight whisper of hair on Brian’s knuckles and imagined them when he was old, clutching the arm of a rocking chair on the porch, staring out at a sunset. He would have sexy old man knuckles, I thought to myself.

We stood on the porch awkwardly, Brian staring down at me with a smile on his face. “I really enjoyed tonight,” he said quietly.

“I did too,” I agreed. My heart was pounding. Why was my heart pounding? “It was just like old times,” I added.

Brian hesitated. “Not… quite… like the old times,” he disagreed. He started to lean closer to me.

It took his eyes closing and his mouth slowly parting open before I realized that Brian was about to kiss me. And in the seconds it took him to lean in, my mind spun through a series of thoughts so fast that I could scarcely keep up with them:

Brian’s gonna kiss me.
Why is Brian kissing me?
What about Nick?
What about Leighanne?
Does Brian love me?
Do I love Brian?
Oh my God, I love Brian.
I’ve always loved Brian.
I want Brian to kiss me.
Why have I never kissed Brian before?
Oh God, what if I screw up this kiss?
I’m gonna screw up this kiss.
Close your eyes and pucker up, Heather! He’s almost there!

Brian’s mouth was so close now that I could taste his breath sliding between his lips and I felt the brush of his skin on my mouth and his lips parting mine and his hands touching my hips, pulling me closer… I was about to melt into him and once I melted there would be no turning back

My knees went gooey and I started to lean in…

And that’s when the front door opened.


Brian

I leaped back so fast that I could’ve made the earth spin the wrong way if I’d been a little heavier of a guy. My head was certainly spinning the wrong direction. Heather’s mouth had been so close to mine, my chest so close to having hers pressed against mine, my hands dangerously close to her bottom… and the door was pouring out incomprehensible light, that pooled at our feet like liquid gold, massive portions of it blocked out by the hulking shape of……

Nick.

Hey guys!” Nick yelled, too enthusiastically. And I knew, the moment he spoke, he’d seen it. He knew what had been about to happen. He reached out and wrapped his arms around each of our necks. I pictured him squeezing just a little too hard, popping me like a zit and mourning the loss of his best friend as though it’d been an accident that he’d killed me.

“Nick!” Heather gasped, her eyes sparking. She stared up at his slightly unshaven chin in surprise. “When did you –“

“I just got here,” he said, sprawling out his words the way Nick is infamous for doing. He grinned, “I had a helluva time in Germany…” he glanced at me, then looked back at Heather, “Looks like yall are having some fun, huh?” he asked.

I looked at my feet.

“We went to the arcade!” Heather said, laughing. “Brian killed about a million Whack-a-Moles.”

“Yeah, Brian’s always been good at whacking,” Nick said. He disengaged his arm from my neck and guided Heather to the door. “C’mon lets go inside,” he suggested brightly.

I feigned a yawn. “I’m exhausted actually I’m gonna just go ho—“

“No.” Nick firmly grabbed my arm, “I want you here for this.”

He pulled me and Heather inside and kicked the door shut behind him, leading us into the living room. “So when did your flight get in?” Heather asked.

“Not too long ago,” he said, “I left a little later than I’d planned.”

“Where’s your car?” I asked. “I didn’t see a rental in the driveway…”

“Marietta picked me up.”

“Oh.”

I felt sick in the pit of my stomach. Something was nagging me… and I had a feeling that I knew what Nick was here for. After all… why else would he come to Kentucky, the place he referred to as America’s buttcrack?

I watched Heather as she moved through the room, and everything got kind of fuzzy around her, like when the focus of a camera is only on one part of the image. Every noise except the sound of her laugh faded away into a hazy humming and I felt like some part of me had sunk to the very depths of my toes.

I’d waited too long.
Chapter 11 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Eleven

Nick

Holy shit.

Those were the only two words running through my mind as the three of us headed back into Heather's parents house.

Holy shit.

The past eighteen hours had been a blur. After an awkward confrontation with the German police in which I was found in my boxers handcuffed to one of the red developing lights, I had missed my first flight. The only thing I could get on the next flight out was coach. To make matters worse, the flight had two layovers due to weather, which had given me even MORE time to spazz out, doubting myself and my actions. Was I NUTS? But finding Brian centimeters from Heather's lips had suddenly woken me up.

Had he really been about to kiss her?

I glanced at Bri out of the corner of my eye as we made our way into the living room. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, his face unnaturally red considering it was chilly in the Cornhole of Hell, aka Kentucky.

"How'd you find me?"

Heather's words were a mixture of anger and hurt. She too looked flushed. Her big blue eyes flickered over at Brian and something bubbled up in my stomach.

If I hadn't been sure of what I needed to do before, I was now.

"Your momma and I had a chat," I said with a smile, a smile that Heather didn't return. I plopped down on the couch and held onto her hands.

"I missed you."

Heather glanced back at Brian again. "I don't think this is the time--"

"No, this is the perfect time," I said.

"Mom, I've never heard you sound so excited. What happened?"

Every muscle in my body tensed at the sound of Chris' voice. Heather's brother and I had never gotten along. Well, I take that back.

We had gotten along really well the first time we met. That is, until I called his wife a hooker.

It had been a complete misunderstandi ng, of course. I hadn't known the gorgeous girl walking the street at ten o'clock at night was Chris' wife. We had gone out drinking and I was a little, er, buzzed. When he had slowed down the car I nudged him in the ribs, slipped him a hundred, and told him I would leave him and the hooker alone for a little sometin' sometin'.

By the time I actually found my way back to Heather's parents house, I was sporting a black eye the size of Texas.

"It's getting late. My parents..." Bri drawled. It never ceased to amaze me how much more 'hick' his accent got when he got anywhere close to home. Sometimes I had to double check to make sure he wasn't gnawing on a piece of hay.

"You're thirty-six years old," I said. I reached out and gave him a light kick in the shin. I wanted to give him more, but I didn't want to press my luck. I knew that the Johnson's considered him the second coming of Jesus - or so it seemed. Besides, I needed him. I hadn't exactly gotten a ring yet and I was hoping I could talk him into coming with me in the morning and pick one out. Until then, I was gonna lie. I mean, what girl wouldn't believe her fiancee had personally designed a ring - a ring that hadn't gotten done in time but would arrive in town the next day?

The slamming of a door from somewhere towards the back of the house distracted me. A second later I heard the voice I had been dreading.

"That's not--" I heard Chris say from the kitchen. I turned around, ready to defend myself as his head poked around the corner. His eyes narrowed.

"You."

"Hi Chris!" I said, in my overenthusiast ic, shih-tzu sort of way. A second later the hooker herself, er Sandra. She had a slobbery little baby dressed in pink PJs clinging to her tit.

"What's going on?" Heather asked.

A million things happened at one time. Brian's legs seemed to give out on him and he sank into a chair. He cupped his hands together and hunched over, the former flush turning into a pasty white. Heather's mom Marietta pushed past Chris. Heather's dad, Luke, came up from the basement. He took in the scene, looked at me, and gave a slight nod.

"What's going on?" Heather asked. The anger had left her voice; it shook noticeably.

"Aww, hell no," Chris muttered.

I blocked it out. I had to do this. Sure, I wasn't prepared, but when had I ever been prepared? I sprung out of my seat and wrapped my hands around Heather's slender little waist. We did a little dance as I moved her to the couch.

"Sit down," I said, my throat tightening.

Heather's eyes were the size of saucers. They swung over to look at Brian once more before locking on mine.

"I'm mad," she said.

As I stood hovering over her, I realized she was still wearing Brian's flannel shirt. I exhaled loudly.

"That was my plan," I said smoothly. I heard a snort coming from the kitchen doorway and Marietta's faux-quiet reprimand.

"Your plan?"

I smiled. The words had just dripped out of my mouth. I planted my feet shoulders apart. I couldn't ignore the fact that her face was lined up perfectly with my crotch. Mm--wait, I had something to do.

"I know the plane thing looked bad, but I seriously haven't stopped thinking about you even for a second in the three years we've been together."

I'm sure no one else heard it, but a noise escaped Brian's voice. It almost sounded like he was self-suffocating. I was about to feel sorry for him, except for the fact that I couldn't get the image of them out on the doorstep out of my mind.

It was now or never. I sank to one knee.

"Heather Johnson, you've put up with more than any decent girl should. I know that I haven't been the perfect guy, but I am the luckiest guy in the world. You're everything a man could want: you're beautiful, you're sweet, and you've got the biggest heart ever."

"Nick," Heather whispered. She looked around. I could see the dawning realization in her eyes. "Nick..."

"Baby," I took her hand. It was damp. I ran my thumb over her knuckles. "Baby, will you marry me?"

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

"Baby, will you marry me?"

The second the words left Nick's mouth, my mom burst into uncontrollable tears. My dad was rolling four cigars around in his hands, a grin lighting up his perpetually youthful face.

And I glanced at Brian again.

He was staring fixedly at the ground as he had been since Nick had sat me down on the couch. But something made him lift his head and make eye contact with me. The breath left my lungs.

Suddenly I was stuck back on the bumper cars.

The Kentucky State Fair is the biggest event of the year. For a kid, it's paradise. When I was five, the Littrells and Johnsons joined forces; our parents tossed us kids in a van and drove from Lexington to Louisville to camp out. The first night, Brian and Chris had a pair of super soakers and I remember they chased me around for three hours. The only thing I had to defend myself was one of those tiny little plastic bright pink water squirters. Sometimes being a girl sucked.

The next day, we got to spend the entire day at the fair. It was right after lunch when Chris demanded that he go on the bumper cars. Maybe it was because I already felt slighted over the water squirter, but I had begged to go on. Not only that, but I had begged for my own car.

It was a disaster from the beginning. I didn't understand the instructions on how to turn the wheel. I whipped that thing to the right and just hung on for dear life as my car did perfect circles, only interrupted when all the other kids decided to pick on the stupid girl who couldn't drive.

After about the tenth hit, I began to cry. My corndog with the special ketchup/mustard sauce mom had mixed up was coming back up in my throat. My knuckles were white on the wheel and my little foot slammed at the floor with all my might. Chris was shouting, but I couldn't tell whether he was laughing or defending me.

I was about two seconds from puking all over the cute little green buggy car when a bigger pair of hands wrapped around mine. The smell of sweaty boy made me look up into Brian's smiling, upside down face.

"It's okay," he said. "I'll tell you what to do. Let's get these guys."

"Will you marry me?"

Nick's voice shook as he asked me for a second time. Brian's eyes drifted back to the floor. I had so wanted him to pull a bumper cars again - I wanted him to tell me what to do - but for the second time in a day he was running away.

As any MARRIED man should do.

The thought slammed into my brain from out of nowhere. I blinked rapidly.

Brian was married. Yes, I loved him. God, it had taken me THIS long to realize it...but I did. But he was MARRIED. And he was a DAD. And he was a good Christian boy who would never think about giving all that up for some ratty haired girl he knew all his life...

"Yes."

The words left my mouth even as my thoughts were consumed with Brian. "Heath, my God, are you sure?" Chris said.

"CHRIS!" Sandra chastised.

"What? I mean--"

"Yes," I said again. My hand was shaking uncontrollably in Nick's. I looked down at my ring finger. When Nick didn't make another move, I looked back up at his face. He gave me a sheepish smile.

"You know I'm kinda bad at keeping secrets," he said with a laugh. "Uhm, I was working with a jeweler here while I was in Germany and I thought it would be done by tonight, but it wasn't. So I have to wait until tomorrow to give you the engagement ring."

"Of course," I heard Chris mutter under his breath.

"You're gonna love it though, I promise," Nick continued. He was beginning to sweat. He let go of my hand and cupped my face. A second later, his lips brushed lightly over mine. He tasted stale, the type of stale that he always got when he spent almost a day hoping airplanes.

"This deserves a toast!" mom cried as he pulled away. "I'll get the wine!"

"I've got cigars!" dad said. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my cheek. "Congrats, baby girl," he whispered. He shook Nick's hand and handed him a cigar. He turned to Bri next, but when he held out the cigar, Bri hesitated. Finally, he took it, rolling it around between his thumb and forefinger. It was agony as he looked from me to Nick.

"Congrats," he said.

"Thanks, man!" Nick said. He walked over and clapped his arm around Bri's back. "Let's step outside and light these puppies up. I have to talk to you..." he winked at me. "I need to let my best man in on some classified information."

"Best man?" Bri and I said simultaneously .

"Of course!" Nick said. He laughed. "Heath, you weren't planning on making him maid of honor were you?"

I flushed. Bri's fingers tightened around the cigar. He stood and for a second I could feel the heat radiating from him. A huge rock of guilt settled in my stomach as I remembered the way his hands felt on my body...

"So, I was thinking you could sing that one song at the wedding," Nick said as he led Brian towards the front door.

"What song?"

"That one country one you did on your solo tour. Yanno, the one by Tim McGruff."

"McGraw?"

"Yeah!"

"I can't sing Don't Take the Girl. It's depressing. The woman dies in child birth."

"Oh. Gross."

With that, the front door closed behind them. I stared down at my bare hand and let out a shivery breath.

So I was going to end up with Nick. That was OK. I had at least lived the dream for a few hours...

And Holly would still end up with Eric in my story.

At least someone would win.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Brian

The minute we were outside Nick’s hand dropped from my shoulder and he shoved past me and walked away across the lawn into a pool of moonlight. He stopped and stood still, breathing deeply. I swallowed. I was about to get my ass kicked. I stepped slowly, cautiously towards him. “Nick, before you flip out, can I at least start to explain what was –“

“I need help picking out a ring,” Nick said, spinning around.

I stared at him. “You said that you –“

“Dude, I know what I said,” Nick snapped. “I forgot, okay? I had the day from hell. I got practically raped by this psycho German chick and the flight and delays for weather and –“ he stopped, he stared at me for a long moment. “Why were you kissing her?”

My throat practically closed up. I shied away, stepping backwards. My palms became mini oceans. I took a deep breath. “I wasn’t,” I answered. “I just was trying to comfort her…” I stared up at him, “I mean I don’t know if you realized it or not, but she’s no idiot, she knows you were out there sleeping with Lauren. She was hurting.”

Nick snorted, “Like you’re one to talk about cheating now, huh?” he laughed.

“Nick,” I said, “Nothing happened.”

“Right, Brian.”

“Nick!” I barked his name with an edge.

He raised his eyebrow. “You’re really defensive for an innocent guy,” he said with a shrug. He sighed, “But you’re also my best friend, and… well, honestly, I need your help in all this, so… for this one time I’m gonna overlook what was about to happen and trust that if you say it didn’t that it didn’t.” He smiled like he was doing me some huge favor.

I wanted to choke him.

Seriously, I’ve known the guy eighteen years – more than half of both our lives – and this was probably only the second time in all of those years that I’ve ever truly wanted to kill him. One of previous times had been following an incident long ago that involved a late night chase around a parking lot with a paint gun in 1996. For the most part Nick and I had always gotten along or else ---- well, I’d overlooked a lot. I’d let him get away with hurting me and others around me, and let Nick walk over me because he was my best friend and he was just, well, Nick.

That was his greatest excuse. He was Nick.

“So you’ll help me out tomorrow, right? I mean you know what Heather would want in a ring.” Nick smiled, “I need something perfect if she’s gonna believe I custom ordered it.”

“Yeah,” I muttered.

Nick grinned and pet my shoulder. “Thanks man.” He winked, “I gotta go chill with my fiancé.” He looked back at the driveway where my car was parked. “Didn’t you say you had to go home to your mom?” he asked pointedly.

My mouth felt dry. “Uh huh.”

“See ya later then. Tomorrow.” He went inside and left me standing on the front lawn.

I walked numbly to my car and climbed in and started the engine. I sat there, the car idling, and my hands on the wheel, staring at the Johnsons’ house. My hands were shaking and I felt like I was gonna throw up. As I sat there, the front door opened and Chris stepped out onto the porch. He saw I was still there, and started walking across the lawn with purpose. He opened the passenger door of my car and got in, slammed it behind him and sat there beside me in silence for a long time.

“Am I allowed to kill him yet?” Chris asked quietly.

I nodded.

Chris took a deep breath, “Brian, why don’t you just tell Heather?”

I looked at him. “Tell Heather what?” I asked.

Chris stared at me for a long moment. “That you love her?”

My mouth felt dry. I looked forward again, studying the speedometer. “I-“

“Don’t lie to me,” he cut me off. “Dude you’ve always loved Heather.”

There was a long pause between us. Finally, I turned and looked at him with searching eyes. “Why didn’t I realize it sooner? Before it got so complicated and -- too late?”

Chris shook his head, “It’s never too late. Just go in there and tell her and they’ll break this shit wedding off and –“

“Chris, I can’t,” I said, “That’s my best friend. And Heather—“ I shook my head, “Heather didn’t – she –“

“What?” Chris asked.

“I gave her pleading eyes,” I said, “When she hesitated. She saw them, and she said yes. To Nick. She saw me, begging her, and she said yes.” My stomach ached. “She doesn’t want me,” I said, “She wants Nick.”

“So you’re gonna give up just like that?” Chris asked.

My heart ached. “I don’t know,” I said quietly. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

Chris opened the passenger door. “Have a good night Brian,” he said, climbing out.
Chapter 12 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Twelve

Nick

"Heather..."

"Heaaattth-errrrr..."

Due to my complete inability to comprehend time, I had woken up at seven a.m. I had two options: go to sleep or try to get lucky. I was attempting the second plan. Heather had been ridiculously quiet after Brian left the night before; her mom had been the one who was talking a mile a minute. I had tried to get a little sometin' sometin' after we had gone to bed, but Heather had made a big show of taking her time in the bathroom. By the time she got out, I had apparently fallen asleep.

But now I was awake and I needed her to wake up. I stretched my arm out around her and grabbed a nice handful of boob. I nipped at her neck and swung my leg over her slender ones.

"Heathhh-errr..."

"Br---hmmm."

She moaned and rolled over, staring up at me. Call me crazy but she looked...

Disappointed.

"Good morning," I said with a smile. I ran my thumb over her nipple. "I'm up."

I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively and pulled her back against me. She let out a little gasp.

"I can't," she said quickly. My hand fell from her cantaloupe.

"What? Why?"

"I started."

I groaned. Sometimes Mother Nature royally fucked up my plans.

"Oh."

Heather tugged the blankets up to her chest, her forehead wrinkling. "Sorry."

"Hey, you can't help it," I said. "But how about--"

I was cut off by the ringing of my phone. I rolled over as Heather curled back up and checked the display.

Brian. Really?

"Lo?"

"I need to talk to you."

"Do you know what time it is?" I asked.

"You sound awake."

More than he knew. A forbidden image of Lauren sliding down my body sprang to my mind...and sprang something else. I tugged at my hair.

"Let's meet for breakfast. Eight thirty. Then afterwards you can help me do what I asked you about yesterday."

"Yeah." His voice was unnaturally void of emotion. It wasn't like him. At all. He was like a country version of a Mexican jumping bean. Usually.

"Okay, see ya then," I confirmed. I disconnected and slid my phone back on the nightstand. Heath and I were sharing her bed, but it was a tight squeeze in the Full size bed. My hand slid along her hip again.

"So, can I entice you to--"

Before I could finish, she let out a soft snore. I groaned and rolled away.

If my fiance's libido didn't increase by the time we said 'I Do,' I was going to have a huge problem.



"Damn, these are some good pancakes. You gonna eat your pancake? I think I could eat a dozen of these pancakes. You know what I think is jacked up?" I waved my fork over my plate. "You don't even make these things in a pan. And they're not really cake. It's--"

"You can't marry Heather."

I choked as the syrupy piece I had been smacking on flew down my throat. Bri's hair and clothes were dishelved. I couldn't remember exactly, but it looked like the same outfit he was wearing the night before.

"What? Why?"

"Because..." Bri trailed off. He picked up his glass of OJ and swirled the liquid around. "She wants a family."

I coughed one more time to completely dislodge the piece of pancake. I took a sip of my coffee and nodded. "I know. I figured I'd suck it up enough to have one kid. I mean, that should shut her up and it won't completely ruin her figure. As long as she does all the diapers."

Brian's fingers tightened around his glass. He pushed his plate away. For a moment, I thought he was actually going to hit me.

"What?"

Before he could answer, I turned to look out the window. The jewelry store across the street had just flipped their closed sign to open. I smacked at his wrist.

"Hey, let's roll! I need to put a ring on it before she changes her mind."

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather>

When I woke up a couple hours later, Nick was gone.

I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling. I looked at my bare hand, at the empty ring finger. I heard his words replay in my mind over and over, heard my yes over and over, saw Brian’s eyes cast themselves to the floor over and over. Nick was a desirable man. He was sexy, he was every woman’s dream. Despite the fact that he’d cheated on me –and, I rationalized, I didn’t really, beyond a doubt know that—he was still Nick Carter.

And soon, I was going to be Heather Carter.

The thought made me feel uncomfortable, and I quickly climbed out of bed and threw my hair into a ponytail and trotted down the stairs to the kitchen. I poured myself some cereal and went outside and sat on the porch. I spooned cheerios into my mouth and stared at dew collecting on the grass, listening to the sound of my own crunching.

Chris’ car coasted to a stop in front of the house and he got out, smiled in my direction, and pulled Tessa from her car seat in the back. He placed her gently into her carrier and came towards the porch. He put Tessa down, then sank beside me. He studied me for a long moment as I continued chewing.

“Why are you marrying that asshole?” he asked.

I looked over at him. “If you mean Nick, I really don’t appreciate your terminology for my fiancé.”

“Heather,” he said quietly, “What about Brian?”

“What about Brian?”

“Don’t you love him?”

I stared at my feet. “Chris, this isn’t really the best time for you to be meddling.”

“Meddling?” he laughed, “Trying to stop you from making the worst decision of your life is meddling now?”

I shook my head, “You’ve never liked Nick.”

“He’s never given me a reason to like him,” Chris responded.

“He bends over backwards to impress you,” I snapped, “You judge him. You’re the asshole, Chris, not Nick.” I knew before the words came out of my mouth that I didn’t mean them. Not only didn’t mean them but knew better. Chris had given Nick chance after chance after chance and Nick had repeatedly failed and done me wrong. It seemed Chris had just finally gotten to the last straw.

Chris rolled his eyes, “The only thing that guy bends over backwards for is to shove his penis into other women,” he said crudely. He collected Tessa and stomped past me, through the front door.

I put down my cereal bowl and silently cupped my hands over my eyes and tried not to cry.


- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Brian

Nick really did need help.

“No.”

“But it’s –“

“No, I said.”

“But Brian, it’s huge she’ll love it.”

“No she won’t, she hates huge diamonds.”

Nick rolled his eyes and shoved the one he was fingering back into the jeweler’s palm. “You think you know so damn much about my fiancé, then you pick a rock. Jesus.” Nick grumbled.

I glared at him, “Don’t use the Lord’s name,” I snapped, then I turned away and started wandering along the cases, my eyes gliding over a ton of really pretty rings. But none of them were Heather.

“Why are you being so picky?” Nick grumbled as he followed along behind me.

“You’re the idiot that said you ordered it in special,” I said.

“Yeah well, I mean she’s gonna love it no matter what it looks like ,it’s a damn diamond,” he leaned against a counter with a sigh. “Right? I mean all women love diamonds.” He started rubbing his forehead, “Lauren loves diamonds.”

I stopped dead in my tracks. I stared at him for a long moment. “Don’t you dare compare Heather to Lauren.”

“Sorry,” Nick said, “I didn’t mean to, I just –“ he sighed. “Nevermind. Find a diamond for Heather.”

Fuming, I turned back to the cases. I felt like pummelling Nick to the cement. And that’s when I saw it. It was perfect, it was everything Heather would want in an engagement ring. It was small, pear shaped, set on a platinum band. It was displayed in a small, midnight blue case. I pointed at it. “Nick,” I said, “That one.”

Nick wandered over halfheartedly and looked inside. He frowned, “That?” he asked. He looked up at me, dumbfounded. “Brian, it’s barely a whole carrot.”

“Karat,” I corrected his pronouncement, and jabbed my finger at the case, “That’s the one. If you want Heather to truly adore her engagement ring, that’s the one you need to get her.”

Nick stared down at it. “Dude, it’s cheap. It’s not even $5,000.”

I shrugged, “It’s not about the money, Nick, or the size of the rock, I promise you, she’s going to love that ring. THAT one.” I pointed at it again.

Nick stared down at it. “Okay, well, whatever I guess. I just… Are you sure she wouldn’t prefer a heart shaped one? Or oooh, look at these blue diamonds. Blue diamonds from Alaska. That sounds pretty awesome.”

I sighed as Nick floated away from the perfect ring.

“Why’d he even ask for my help if he wasn’t gonna take it…” I muttered under my breath, and wandered after him, nodding blindly as he asked if I thought Heather would like this ring or that ring, knowing she’d hate any of them that wasn’t that ring.
Chapter 13 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Thirteen

Nick

Brian had really disappointed me. Here I was thinking he was going to come with me and help me pick out the perfect ring and he goes and picks out a Wal-mart special. I knew it was all up to me after that point. The blue Alaskan diamond, 2 car--er, karats in all, set in a brillant Cleopatra-eat-your-heart-out gold band was nestled safely in the silk white case in my pocket as Brian and I walked up the walk towards Heather's parents. Well, I should say I walked. Brian was doing the mummy shuffle.

"I can't believe you," I added for good measure. "Of all people to shy away from huge ass rocks, I wouldn't think it would be you."

Brian scowled. "I've come to learn that size doesn't matter."

I turned, a doubtful grin spreading across my face. "Size always matters," I said seriously. I reached up and tapped my knuckle against the door.

It took a couple seconds, but Heather opened the door. Her eyes widened and I knew I was going to get a total girlish freakout about the ring. In fact, I was reaching into my pocket when her mouth opened.

"Hey Bri," Heather said gently. "Momma's makin' lunch. You wanna stay?"

"Sure kiddo," Bri said quietly. He looked over at me. I looked at him. Then I looked at Heather and clapped my hands.

"Who wants a ring?" I said loudly. Her eyes widened.

"You've got it?" She sounded surprised.

"Of course. I told you it would be in today, didn't I?"

"Well, yes...but..."

"Is that Nick? Does he have the ring?"

Suddenly Marietta peeked around Heather, her face breaking into a grin. "Girl, let your fiancee in! This is the moment I've been waiting for!"

Well, at least someone was excited. Heather stepped back, still clinging to the door. I walked in, brandishing the box like it was my sword.

"Ta-da!"

Like a repeat of last night, I knelt down on one knee as soon as I got in the doorway. Brian was still hovering outside, almost looking like he would bolt at any moment. Heather's chest rose and fell; it was at least good to know I could still get her breathing heavy somehow.

"I designed this with you in mind," I said seriously. "I can't wait to marry you."

With those poetic words said, I opened the box...

And waited for the tears of joy.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

"I can't wait to marry you."

With flourish, Nick sprang the lid open on the white ring box. I stopped hyperventalating. I stopped breathing.

The ring nestled in the box was hideous. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure other girls would love it. It's just that I couldn't imagine sitting at a couple and typing with that monstrosity on my hand. I couldn't imagine reeling in a trout from the creek with the reflection from the stone blinding me in my eyes. Besides, every piece of jewelry I owned was white gold, platnium, or cheap Claire's Boutique faux-silver. I had a dislike of gold.

But I had to be happy. Nick was waiting for it.

"Oh...it's..." C'mon, Heather. "big. And...lovely."

"Nick," mom gasped. "That must have cost--"

"Nothing is too good for my Heath Bar," Nick said proudly. He plucked the ring out of the box and held it out towards my hand.

"Heather, where's your head, girl? Hold out your hand!" mom chastised.

God, mom, I thought. If you're so excited, why don't you marry him?

I immediately felt guilty. Mom was happy, but she was happy for me. I was getting married. It had been my dream and she just wanted to witness my dream come true.

With that pep talk in mind, I thrust out my hand. Nick grabbed my hand and began to push it on.

"Wrong finger," Brian said under his breath. I looked over at him. He gave me a smile. "He's new at this," he drawled. I couldn't help it. I laughed.

"He needs your help."

"Does he?"

The question threw tension back into the air. Nick finally grabbed the right finger and slipped it on. He let go and I lifted my hand with new effort. The rock glistened back.

"Wait! Hold it!" Nick cried. He grabbed my hand and turned it around so that it was facing him. He took out his phone.

"Smile for ze world!"

Oh, crap. I knew that look. He was going to tweet. In less than five minutes, all of the crazy Carter fans were going to know he was engaged.

My rank on the hitlist was going to skyrocket. I let loose a watery smile.

"Perfect!" he cried. I heard the click of his IPhone and then it was practically at his face, his fingers flying. He was one of those weird contradictions: drop-dead gorgeous and incredibly technologically nerdy.

"Someday you're gonna have to show me how to get my pictures right side up," Bri said. I laughed. Brian's Twitpics were my favorite. I usually had to turn my laptop completely upside down to see what he was so excited about. It was adorable...end earing...

"Sweetheart..." mom cooed. Suddenly she had a hold of my hand. "Now we can officially think about the wedding. I can't wait to hear what you--"

"Oh, yeah!" Nick said. His head sprung up. "I was thinking we should just take the plunge. What about August?"

I choked. "A-August?"

"Yeah, we have four days between our last U.S. date and the Canada dates. Why not August 2?"

"That's a Tuesday," Brian argued. Nick looked at him and rolled his eyes.

"So? It'll throw the fans off our trail."

"But that's less than three months away. I can't--"

Frantic images of Italy floated through my mind. My white dress...the sand...Brian barefoot in a suit jacket and jeans...

Wait. BRIAN?

"I'm sure you and your mom can pull it off. We'll have a nice outdoor Kentucky wedding," Nick said. "That way you're family won't have to travel."

"I know just the place!" mom said happily. "Y'know the Chateau Chardonnay right outside of Lexington? Oh honey, that would be so beautiful..."

"What did you have in mind kiddo?"

The question came from the still open doorway. Bri was looking at me, his eyes soft and...and...

"She wants to marry me. That's all that matters, right babe?"

Nick had scrambled to his feet. He hovered over me, looping his long arms around my waist. He swayed me side to side, his chin pressing into the top of my head. "Cause we're in LUVVVVVVV."

Bri didn't answer him. He continued to look at me.

"Heath?"

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *




Brian

Heather looked like she would’ve fallen over if Nick hadn’t been clutching her like she was some kind of pocketbook dog. He rattled her side to side and she clung to his arm like that safety bar on the rides at the county fair, her eyes pooling. Uhoh. I knew that look. I’d seen that look tons of times when I was a kid. Notoriously after she’d come parading out the back door to the tree house, knocking on the wood and calling up to Chris and I if we’d like to have pink lemonade from her tea pot and play ”Malopoly.” She always got that half-way to tears, eyes wider than her pupils were round, glistening but pretending to smile look on her face. Just like she had now.

She gasped for breath, “Anything, anything is perfect. I love August. The Chardonnay sounds great. I gotta go take a shower.” She pushed her way out of Nick’s arms and bolted for the stairs like she was a race horse let free at the Kentucky Derby. She thundered up the stairs, her right hand clutching her left like she had to hold up that monstrous rock Nick had bought her, and disappeared.

Marietta grabbed Nick’s arm and tugged him closer, “Oh good God, Nick, you’re such a gentleman,” Marietta crooned, squeezing Nick, who grinned happily into Marietta’s breasts, and pet her future son-in-law’s head. I stood awkwardly on the porch still.

Suddenly, Chris came around the corner. His eyes landed on Nick. “Did you bring it?” he demanded, voice less than polite, seeing Heather wasn’t there.

Nick turned and looked at Chris, “Dude, of course I brought it.”

“Where is it?” Chris looked around like he expected a rock the size of a llama to be standing around.

“Heather’s got it on her hand, du—duuhhh,” Nick said. He’d been about to say dumbass but saved himself just in time. I couldn’t even fathom the bloodshed that would’ve occurred if he’d let it slip. I sunk behind the door jamb and leaned against the outside of the house as Marietta started gushing about the ring, telling Chris about it.

Then I heard Nick’s voice, “Chris, you should be one of my best men, too.”

I peeked around the door. “Say what?” I asked.

Nick blushed. “Well I was just thinking… You had like 14 best men at your wedding. I should have a couple, too, and Chris… Chris is a great friend of mine, I just think maybe he—you—would ---“ he let his words fall away.

Chris raised an eyebrow at Nick. “Don’t bother kissing my ass,” he said quietly, “I’m not stupid. I know what kind of prick you are.”

CHRISTOPHER!” Marietta looked horrified as Chris shrugged and slipped out the door. “We don’t speak to people like that, any people and Nick’s practically family and –“ she pointed at me, “Why can’t you be more respectful, like Brian?”

Chris shrugged.

“Why’s everyone want everyone else to be like Brian lately?” Nick laughed, “It’s not like he’s the best moral compass these days, huh, Cassanova?” Nick winked.

Marietta looked at me, “What?” She looked at Nick. “What’s going on?”

I laughed, a forced, hard laugh that caught in my throat and hurt my neck somehow. I punched Nick’s arm in a seemingly playful way, but way too hard to be a game. Nick rubbed his shoulder and looked at me through squinting eyes. “It’s just Nick,” I said casually, “Being Nick.”

Nick forced a smile.

And it was right there that I knew I’d started something.

Chris broke the weird tension that hung between Nick and I first by stating, “Well thanks for the offer anyways, Nick, but I’d rather sit this one out.” He glanced at me, “Can I talk to you?”

I didn’t know who was scarier. Nick or Chris.

Reluctantly, I followed Chris down the walkway toward his car as Marietta chattered out that she and Nick would be more than happy to watch Tessa for Chris, and Chris guided me to his car. Nick was glowering across the lawn at me as Marietta disappeared to go get her granddaughter. Chris waved to Nick as we drove away.
Chapter 14 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Fourteen

Nick

"Tessa, do you know what your Uncle Nick gave your Auntie Heather? She gave her a pretty ring. Wait until you see it! It's bigger than your precious little cheeks!"

The baby stared at me with the same angry look her father always gave me even as Marietta blew a huge raspberry on her chubby shoulder. Marietta lifted her up and wiggled her slightly.

"You and Heather are going to make such pretty babies," Marietta said with a happy sigh.

"Ya--uhh-eah," I said. I stared out the window just in time to see Brian and Chris take off. Heather's dad was at work.

It was just me, my future mother-in-law, and...

The kid.

It wasn't that I hated kids. I loved playing with Baylee. Now that James' didn't scream every time I ran up behind him, I was even beginning to enjoy having him around.

No, it was the whole baby thing. I've had people tell me that fear goes away once it's your own child, but babies kinda give met he heebie-jeebies.

"Oh, lunch!"

Suddenly, the pink clad little girl was being thrusted towards me.

"I've got to start lunch. Can you hold Tess?"

"Can't lunch wait? Chris and Brian--"

"Oh, those two will be back if they know what's good for them. I've got to cut up the chicken I boiled for the chicken salad. She doesn't bite, honey. She's a super good baby. Just like her daddy. Now, Heather...Heat her's another story."

Reluctantly, I took the little thing while Marietta quickly retold a story I had heard a million times about Heather as a baby. Tessa was heavier than I thought she would be. I quickly made my way to the couch, lest I drop her. If Chris hated me now, he would murder me if he came back to a cracked-headed baby. I sat her down on my lap, her legs pressing up against my stomach. We had another staring contest even as Marietta ruffled my hair and headed towards the kitchen.

"Sup?" I asked. Her nose started to twitch like a bunny rabbit's. I bounced my leg slightly and she stopped. After a minute she even smiled.

Hunh. Maybe the baby thing wouldn't be so bad after all. And I knew Marietta was right. Heather and I would have a supermodel baby. A little blonde for sure. Now, with Lauren, it would have been a toss up. Surely, her gorgeous dark hair would have won out with at least one of our children--

I shook my head. Woah. Was I seriously thinking about what babies with my fuck buddy would look like?

Yes.

"Fuck," I said aloud. It came out barely a whisper, but Tessa's body grew rigid as if I had hit her. Almost immediately I had a wailing baby on my lap. I drew her to my chest, half-hoping to smother the screams. I rocked forwards and back, but the wails just grew louder. A huge wet spot from the overabundance of drool grew on my shirt.

"H-Help!" I called out.

"She's fine!" Marietta called back. "Just reach in the bag and get out her duckie pacifer!"

Pacifier. That was the nipple looking thing, right? My palms were damp from nerves as I caught hold of the handle of the diaper bag with my sneaker. I slid it towards me and shoved my hand into a pocket.

The two minutes I endured before I found the pacifier were the longest of my life. I almost wept with joy as I found the rubbery plastic thing, pulled back, and shoved it into Tessa's waiting mouth. Immediately her eyes crossed and her little body went limp.

Suck. Suck. Suck.

Tessa was still sucking ten minutes later as Marietta walked out of the kitchen drying her hands. She hovered at the bottom of the stairs.

"Heather, did you drown up there? Lunch is ready!"

I didn't hear an answer. Marietta scooped Tessa off my lap and I stood, grateful that I didn't see any liquid leaking out of the bottom of her like one of those Betsy Wetsy dolls. I turned towards the stairs. I needed to get babies (and Lauren) out of my head. I needed some shower sex.

"I'll go check on her," I said.

Marietta didn't have a chance to reply as I headed up the stairs. Tessa must have lost her pacifier because her screams erupted through the house. For once, I was glad.

If she was screaming, momma Johnson wouldn't hear her daughter screaming my name upstairs.

Score.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

I was sitting in the bath tub, bubbles around my neck and tears streaming from my eyes, staring at the iceberg that sank the Titanic. I felt like my throat was tied off, like I couldn’t breathe, and I sobbed loudly, sure no one could hear me over Tessa’s screaming downstairs. I imagined taking the ring off and accidentally letting it swoop down the drain with my dirty bath water.

It would probably clog the septic tank.

My heart was breaking and it was silly because in all reality I’d actually gotten everything I wanted, hadn’t I? I was probably just on the verge of PMSing – for real, not just as an excuse to get Nick off of me. I mean, I’d landed Prince Charming and he looked incredible in tights. I was going to be a princess with a castle and the prince and the 6-horse power engine in my top-down carriage. And here I was, laying in my bath tub, sobbing because I didn’t get the fricking knight.

I let my mind run away with myself for a moment, imagining if I told Nick what I was thinking. “I can’t marry you,” I whispered under my breath, “I can’t. I’m… I’m in love with someone else. Who?” I bit my lip. If there was a checklist of worst answers for who the other man was at a wedding the list would probably read like: a) Groom’s Best Friend, b) Groom’s Best Man, c) Another Married Man. I pictured checking off d) All of the Above.

Suddenly the door opened and Nick came in without even knocking. I jumped about a mile and scooped up bubbles to cover my boobs. “Nick!” I shrieked, “Hello! Knock!”

He grinned, “Babe,” he laughed, “C’mon, it’s not like I ain’t seen it all before,” he said.

Nick lowered himself on the closed toilet seat and stared at me, his features folding into that familiar smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners and sparkling. I stared up at him. It was incredible, I thought, how I could be so preoccupied with anyone except Nick. He was just so gorgeous. And really, he was kind of sweet and irresistible and maybe, just maybe I could learn to…

“Wanna play naughty dolphins?” he splashed the water a little bit by my toes.

And then he said shit like that.

“No,” I said, trying not to use the boulder to stab him in the eye. “I’m –“

Nick’s face blanked, then dawned with realization/memory of the conversation we’d had that morning. “Oh. You’re on the rag.” He said it so blatantly. Brian would never have used any “girly time” euphemism. He would’ve turned scarlet. I know because I still remember the day that he and Chris found out that I’d started for the first time. I’d leaked through my shorts and Brian had spent like fifteen minutes trying to tell me why Chris was laughing at me. He’d eventually mumbled “You’re um bleeding kind of” and turned redder than the stain I’d created.

Nick was still staring at me. “Can’t you at least…” he looked at me pleadingly, “Please?”

“Nick I don’t feel like it,” I pleaded.

His eyes looked sad. “Heath Bar,” he said quietly, hanging his head to look at his hands, “I just… I don’t feel like we…” he sighed. He shook his head, “Screw it. I’ll be in the bedroom. I’ll… take care of it.” He stood up.

For some sick, fucked up in the head reason, I actually felt bad for him.

“Nick,” I whispered. I climbed out of the bathtub, the bubbles clinging to me in all the right places. His eyes lit up. “C’mere…” and I sank to my knees.


- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Brian

“Are you okay? You looked ready to throw up back there…” Chris’ voice echoed around me.

“Yeah, yes. I mean, yes. I’m fine,” I stammered, “Really. I just. Nick’s my best friend you know? And so is Heather. And I just—“ I shook my head and sighed, “I’m so frustrated. You know?”

Chris nodded, “I get it.” He’d pulled over less than a block from the house and we’d sat there talking. I’d told him about the ring Nick had chosen compared to the one I’d picked and he’d agreed that the one I’d pointed out sounded more like Heather than the Egyptian eyesore Nick had selected. Chris studied me for a long moment. “Brian, I have to tell you something. But it’s gonna piss you off.”

“Why not, there’s literally nothing you could say to make this day worse,” I answered, leaning my head back against the back of the seat.

Chris took a deep breath. “Leighanne emailed me this morning.”

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “And?”

“She wanted to know if you were here, why you’ve been ignoring her calls.”

I had been ignoring Leighanne’s calls. I literally had nothing to say to her, though. I mean what was I gonna answer with if she asked me how Kentucky was? Great, kinda wish I was getting laid by Nick’s fiancé though? I mean, it wasn’t like I really had been doing anything to write home about.

My blood suddenly ran cold.

“Chris,” I said, “What part of this is supposed to piss me off?”

Chris gnawed his lip. “I um. I told her you weren’t answering her because she was a bitch.”

“Oh God,” I moaned, covering my face. “Chris.”

“I can’t help it,” he stammered quickly, “I was pissed about Nick from last night and I typed and sent it faster than my brain was thinking. I’m a stupid, stupid man and you should expel me from being your best friend.”

There was literally no remorse in his voice at all.

I glowered at him. “Do you know how insanely pissed she’s gonna be? You calling her a bitch will make her think that I called her a bitch to you.”

Chris’ eyebrows knit together. “You did call her a bitch, Bri.”

“But dude, she didn’t know that.”

“Look I’m sorry man,” Chris said, “And I’ll help you out with damage control if need be…”

I sighed. “Chris?” I asked quietly.

“Hm?”

“I think I want a divorce.”



When we got back to the house, Marietta met us at the door with the promise of chicken salad sandwiches if we went and washed up. “Try and get Nick and Heather down, too, while you’re at it,” she said, “Those silly love birds have been holed up there since you all left.”

Chris rolled his eyes, “I am not looking at Nick’s stupid face. You can go get them, I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

We started up the stairs side by side and I turned left to go to Heather’s room, Chris turned right to go to the bathroom. I knocked on Heather’s door. “Nick? Heather?” I called, knocking harder when no response came.

That’s when I heard the scream.
Chapter 15 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Fifteen

Nick

It wasn't every day that my guilt trips worked, but it was a great day when they did. 'Specially cause Heather was on her knees and I was in the throes of my own happy Nick world, relishing the feel of her lips on my...well, yanno. When she moved her hand up to join in the fun, my feet hit hard on the ground and slid, spreading even wider. That's when her hand turned.

Sometimes the body reacts in amazing ways. Like when you walk into a room and everyone yells 'Surprise!' your body just knows to jump, right?

Well when a diamond ring the size of Mt. Everest scratches the entire length of your johnson, at first it feels amazing.

Until the girl giving you the job pulls back and you see the blood.

Then you feel the pain.

You can ask any guy, but we're okay with blood anywhere except there. Heather's eyes were almost as large as the weapon that had impaled me when I began to scream. It was a girly 'I'm gonna die if you don't kill this spider!' type of scream.

"Nick, it's...it's okay!" she gasped. She grabbed a white towel. When the blood stained it pink, my scream rose. That's when the door flew open.

I don't think I'll ever forget the look on Brian's face. He took in Heather first, her lips are shiny from saliva and all the bubbles over her naked body that had pretty much dissolved. Then he looked at me. Then he looked down. Then he looked back at Heather. His gaze kinda locked on Heather, now that I think back on it...

"Jesus," he whispered. Considering the boy never took the lord's name in vain, I knew my situation was dire. I need not worry about children...hel l, I probably didn't need to worry about having sex ever again.

God, I was gonna miss it.

"I need to go to the hospital. Damnit, I'm gonna bleed to death."

"What's going--jumping Jedidiah!"

As if things couldn't get any worse, Marietta ended up behind Brian. The sound of her mom's voice caused Heather to move. She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her body. Her face turned scarlet. That's when I realized.

No one was paying attention to me. I made the mistake of looking down again.

That's when things got fuzzy...

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

I was never, ever going to forget this day for as long as I lived. First, I woke up dreaming of Brian, but feeling Nick's paws all over me. Then I had received the ring from hell and lied to Nick, my family, and God above by saying that I loved it.

And where did it get me?

I'll tell you where it got me. It got me caught by Brian, my mother, and eventually my brother kneeling in the bathroom taking care of Nick. Except the kind of care I gave him wasn't the type he wanted. I had called it a scratch, but the ring had taken a pretty deep gash out of his favorite extremity.

That's how I ended up at the hospital, dressed in mismatched clothes with my hair dried in a gross snarled tangle, slumped in the hall and wishing the ground would swallow me whole.

Chris had stayed behind with Tessa. I don't think I had ever seen him happier. Mom hadn't come, more from extreme embarassment than anything else.

That had left Brian, as always, to take us to the hospital. As soon as I could, I had made the lame excuse of needing the bathroom.

Now I was hiding out to see if my fiance would ever be normal again.

Or as normal as he ever was.

The worst part was that, as guilty as I felt, I knew I wouldn't be broken hearted if the doctor gave Nick limitations in the bedroom for say, oh, the next six months. At the moment, I didn't think I could feel any more asexual if I tried.

"Kiddo, you thirsty?"

Suddenly, I had a can of Sierra Mist pressed against my flaming cheek. I reached up and took it from Brian without looking at him. "Thanks."

"So, um...that's gonna be something to tell the grandkids huh?" he said awkwardly. I popped the top of the can, wiggling the tab until it fell off in my hand. I snorted. "I think I might have just botched the whole 'kids' plan let alone grandkids."

"He'll be fine," Bri assured me. He squatted down and I couldn't help but look at him. His eyes trailed down my body and once again I remembered that he had...-gulp-...seen me naked.

"It was a sign," I said. "Between that hideous ring and Nick guilting me into--"

"He guilted you into--"

"Okay, maybe guilt's a strong word," I sighed. "I--"

"Heath, I gotta tell you something."

His words tumbled out of his mouth so fast I almost didn't understand what he said. I clutched my can so hard that it made tiny little dents in the metal.

"Yes?"

Bri's nostrils - the nostrils that had once held those giant pretzel sticks for thirty seconds before he sneezed - flared. "While Chris and I were out, we got to talking and--"

"Heather Johnson?"

My head swiveled. The doctor was looking down at me, clipboard in hand.

"How is he?" I asked.

"He had to have about five stitches. He's pretty snockered on pain meds. So give him about fifteen more minutes, okay?"

"Will he be--"

The doctor grinned. "It looked worse than it was. He'll be up and at 'em in no time."

I let out what I hoped looked like a relieved sigh. "Thank you."

The doctor nodded and headed on past me down the hall. I stretched out my legs and took a sip of soda, my heart pounding in time to a funny rhythm. Bri's hand wrapped around my shoulder. I shivered involuntarily.

"Heath..."

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Brian

I wrapped my arm around Heather’s shoulder. She shivered. “Heath…” I said under my breath, but I didn’t even have time to say the er part of her name before she leaned forward and slid her tongue in my mouth. Her hands ran down my chest, undid my belt buckle, ripped off my pants and the next thing I knew I was the one standing in the Johnson’s bathroom, I was the one staring down at Heather, bobbling up and down, clutching me in her hands and mouth, barely covered in bath bubbles…

“Brian?” Heather sounded concerned. Her voice snapped me out of my reverie. I stared at her. I remembered we were in the hospital, having just found out that Nick – my best friend slash her fiancé – was A-OK after the incident with the ring that he’d given her. Now she was staring at me, eyes wide like saucers, concern all over her face because I’d fallen away in to a semi—well okay, all the damn way pornographic day dream.

“Brian?”

“Sorry,” I stammered. My face turned red. Please don’t ask what I was thinking about, I mentally begged her. I stared at her again, this time willing myself to keep my eyes on her eyes, lest they wander south and recall and fall back into the dirty daydream. “Heather, I need to go home to Atlanta.”

She stared at me, dumbfounded. “What? You’re leaving me?”

“I’m – I have some – some business that I need to take care of down there and –“

“You’re leaving me alone with my castrated fiancé?!?” she sounded panicked now.

I stared at her. “The doctor just said Nick’s fi—“

“Don’t go.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Don’t leave, please,” she said. She hesitated, “Brian I – I love you.”

My mouth went dry. I stared at her. I couldn’t breathe. My heart felt tight, my head was spinning. I’d waited for what seemed like forever for those words to come from her mouth, for the moment when –“

“Like a brother,” she added.

My heart deflated. I felt my chest shrivel up like a raisin. I felt my machismo die. The ache in my crotch caused by my dirty day dream disappeared like a balloon that got shot. I felt like I’d smashed into a concrete wall. I let my hand fall from Heather’s shoulder and I stood up, threw my half-finished can of Sierra Mist into the trash and walked away.

“Brian?” Heather scrambled to her feet behind me, I heard her shoes clicking on the floor as she tried to keep up with me, but I got out the front door before she did and I bent down to clutch my knees in the air, my stomach turning. I wanted to throw up. I felt like my esophagus was being ripped from gut with a fishing line. “Brian?” She was suddenly beside me, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m going home to –“

“There ya’ll are? Are you like getting the car or something Brian?” Nick was suddenly there, being pushed in a wheel chair by a dreamy-face LNA who looked incredulous that she was actually within a hundred yards of Nick Carter and who had probably relished the fact that she’d gotten to help treat him. “Heather,” his voice was suddenly apologetic. He grabbed at her hands, “Baby, my penis hurts. I’m sorry. I can’t give you Carter lovin’ to celebrate our…” he whispered the word, “Engagement.

It was Heather’s turn to let her hand slide from my shoulder.
Chapter 16 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Sixteen

Nick

"Now my penis is extra ribbed for your pleasure."

"Nick."

Heather's forehead was pressed to her bedroom window. I was munching on a piece of her mom's homemade apple pie, a generous scoop of ice cream melted slightly on top.

"I've had a real bad day. C'mere."

I patted the bed beside me. Heath sniffled.

"What's wrong?"

Heather sighed. "Nothing."

"C'mon, I may not get you all the time, but somethings wrong," I said softly.

"I just don't want to talk about it," she said. She stood up and walked up to me. Her lips pressed against my forehead. "I'm sorry about today."

"It's okay. It'll be a great story to tell our grandchildren."

I was mortified as tears welled up in Heather's eyes. "Grandchildren. .." she whispered. Her arms wrapped around her body as she turned.

"Where--" I began to ask, but she headed out of the room before I had a chance to finish. I shoved the spoon into the ice cream and pie and shoveled another mouthful in.

I was licking the bottom of the bowl when my cell rang. I reached out, figuring it was Brian to chastise me more about buying such a big ass ring. I didn't even check the display.

"I know, I know. It's huge."

"It sure is. How's it hanging?"

Every nerve ending in my body suddenly ignited on fire. Blood rushed to my injured dick. I winced.

"Laur," I whispered.

"I know, I know. I shouldn't be calling. It's just--"

"I miss you," we said at the same time.

It took a couple seconds for the words to sink in on either end. Laur broke the silence.

"Did you propose?"

"Yeah."

"Did she say yes?"

"Yeah?"

"Oh."

"She ripped my penis open with the engagement ring," I blurted.

"What?"

I quickly recapped what happened. I didn't even skirt around the fact that I was getting a blowjob. Laur gasped.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm stitched."

She giggled. I gnawed on my lip. It was a fucking hot giggle. "Now you're extra ribbed for--"

"Your pleasure," I finished.

"My pleasure?"

My stomach was in knots. The pain medicine was no match for the raging hard on I had. "Crap, Laur, I can't get you out of my head."

"I know what you mean. Damnit Carter, I don't do commitment but I can't even look at another guy."

I closed my eyes. Those were the words Heather was supposed to be saying. Instead she was hovering by the window, no doubt lamenting Brian's announcement that he was going back to Atlanta.

Sigh.

"This place is depressing," I announced.

"How can it be depressing? You just got engaged!"

"Trust me. It's the Midwest. It's depressing."

"Well, maybe you need a little surprise. Say...in Chicago?"

"You're coming?"

"If you make me."

I grinned. She was the queen of sexy banter. "If I get caught I'm dead."

"Then don't get caught."

The thought of sneaking around with Lauren while Heather was almost too much for my brain to process. I let out a moan.

"Will you still be blonde?"

"That's for me to know..." she sang.

"And you to find out."

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

Nick practically threw his phone when I came back. I stared at it as it hit the floor and skid under the dresser. He watched it go, then curled his face into an expression of pain. “Baby,” he groaned, “It hurts so much!” I crawled onto the bed beside him and pulled his head back towards my chest. He closed his eyes and used my breast like it was a cold compress on his cheek. I sighed.

Some part of me felt guilty for being so sad about Brian. I felt guilty because I’d told Brian I loved him. The look of shock and horror on his face had made me gush out the like a brother part in my mouth, but not a word of it was meant where it counted… in my heart. And now he was leaving, going back to Atlanta, going back to Leighanne.

“Hey Nick?” my voice was quiet.

“Yeah?” he moved his head so he was looking up at me.

“When did you know you wanted to marry me?”

He was quiet. He shifted in my arms and nuzzled against my breast even more before he finally replied, “You’re beautiful, you’re smart, you’re funny, you’re sexy, you’re gentle – well except by accident with that mammoth ring I got you – and—“ he looked at me and for a moment, just a brief, glimmering moment, he was the Nick I’d fallen in love with. Our eyes locked and he searched mine with his and he leaned closer and he whispered, “And I don’t deserve you.” His mouth was against my cheek. I felt a tear sneak out of my eye and crawl down my face towards his lips. “You make me a lucky man,” he whispered, “By overlooking all of my faults and loving me anyways.”

“If this is all true,” I whispered back, “Why did you sleep with Lauren Kitt?”

Nick sniffled and I pulled back and looked at him. He was genuinely crying. It wasn’t one of those fakey, unreal things he did when he wanted sex (which I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have been doing on account of his injury anyways) – it was actual crying. His face was crumpled in the most childish, ridiculous looking grimace and his skin had turned all red, his lips curled down into a frown and he gasped out, “I hate myself for taking that first step, for turning on you that first time, and if I could undo it all and erase Lauren from my past I would…” he shook his head, his eyes fluttered open and he looked at me through the salty barrier of tears. “I’m no better than my father.”

It had been a long time since I’d seen Nick so vulnerable and open with me.

“Nick,” I whispered, cupping my hands to his cheeks and staring into his eyes, “You are so much better than your father ever was.” I kissed his mouth softly, moving my leg so I was straddling him. I leaned into his chest and he let me pull his shirt off him as he pulled mine off me and his mouth found my breasts. I pressed my palms against the wall and let him work his magic. I closed my eyes. He was being so gentle, so careful, so… so the Nick I remembered. I closed my eyes.

This was the Nick that I wanted to marry. Not the naughty dolphins Nick.

This was the Nick that – that was --

Nick flipped me over gently and started working his way southward.

Oh wow.

Maybe Brian going home to Leighanne wasn’t so bad after all. It was the right thing to do… really… and… maybe there’d be a real change in Nick after this. Maybe Nick would… would stay… being… Nick-like……


------------------------------------------------


Brian

Have you ever seen that one movie… Serendipity? And John Cusack’s trying to find the girl and everywhere he goes, people are named Sarah or talking about Sarah or are singing Sarah’s name out in the middle of traffic for no apparent reason?

Heather was the kind Delta associate who helped me via the telephone to book my flight from Lexington to Atlanta. Heather was the guy who drove my cab’s girlfriend. Heather was the name of the woman who greeted me at the ticketing booth at the airport and -- “My name is Heather and I’ll be your flight attendant tonight…” she was wielding a microphone on two inch heels with a huge pouf of a pony tail.

“Hey,” said the girl next to me, shoving her hand in my face, “I’m Heather.” So she was also my seatmate.

And the real winner?

I walked into my house and dropped my keys into the bowl by the door. “Leighanne?” I called as I looked around. The house seemed empty, dark, kind of eerie. I started up the stairs to the second floor. “Leighanne?” I called. I opened the bedroom door.

Heather, it turned out after fifteen minutes of arguing, was also the name of Leighanne’s extracurricular activities.



“That’s really hot bro. Did you join them?”

Why the hell did I call AJ? Oh yeah, because I was too scared to call Chris and hear about Nick and Heather and I was too scared to call Nick and hear about Nick and Heather and I was to scared to call Heather because – well, I was apparently her brother.

“No. I didn’t join them.”

“Did you watch them?”

I sat in silence a full minute, trying to remind myself why I’d called AJ.

“Sorry.” AJ apparently realized why I was quiet.

“I just can’t believe it. Almost eleven years, J…” I stammered. I kicked the hotel room wall violently and the rolling desk chair sailed across the carpet, caught a snag and tipped over backwards. I let out a yelp.

“Shit, you aren’t like still there watching them, right?” AJ gasped, “What’re they doing?”

“Why the hell didn’t I call Howie?” I burst out.

AJ was quiet a moment, “Okay okay, I’m sorry. So. Eleven years. Yeah?”

“Well just, when you’re married to someone for eleven years you kinda assume that they’re probably heterosexual.”

“At least you know why she was out of commission so much…” AJ offered up, “It’s not because your ride sucks or anything. That’s gotta be comforting.”

I rubbed my forehead. It was impossible, I concluded, to hold a conversation with AJ.
Chapter 17 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Seventeen

Nick

Chicago. It was the moment we'd all been waiting for. Nine guys. One huge penis stage. Three bazillion opening acts.

EPICNESS.

I was hoping the guys would think I was bouncing off the walls because of start-of-tour energy, but the truth was, I kept checking my watch every three seconds thinking.

And waiting.

"So, c'mon. Give us a play-by-play," AJ said as he stabbed at a large meatball that was rolling around on his plate.

"I don't wanna talk about it. Ever," Bri said with a scowl.

"Dude," I said looking up. "You know what I just realized? The world's kinda tipped itself all topsy-turvy." I started ticking things off on my fingers. "Your wife's a lesbian, you're getting a divorce, AJ and I are both getting married, and--"

I didn't get to continue. Suddenly, my phone began to vibrate against my thigh and I knew.

I just knew.

"And I gotta go!" I said, yanking the phone outta my pocket. There was just one single word on the text.

Bus.

I don't think I have ever moved faster. My stitches had dissolved and I was fully functional again. Not that I had put that to the test, mind you. Heather had claimed to be traumatized by the whole bathroom event and said she needed time.

I couldn't take anymore time.

I was sharing a bus with AJ, but since AJ was clearly stuffing his face full of meatballs, I knew I was in the clear. Like a kid at Christmas, I yanked open the door and half-fell into the interior living quarters. My nose landed just centimeters from the tip of a sexy back-slung high heel. A second later I saw a bare knee. I reached up and grabbed it.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," Lauren said happily.

My eyes zoomed up to her face. Her hair was back to its original dark brown. She smiled, her eyes full of excitement.

"You're a sight for something sore, but it isn't my eyes," I said. The dress she wore clung to her body like a second skin. She stood back up and gestured down the hall.

"How about showing me your bunk?" she asked. I scrambled onto all fours before finally standing up. I hit my head on one of the running lights and winced.

"Preferably before you knock yourself unconscious," she giggled. "Or a crazy fan tried to handcuff you to a pipe." I reached out and grabbed her waist. She shrieked as I pulled her back into me.

I wasn't sure how much time I had before VIP. I wasn't even sure that I cared. Lauren smelled like German Chocolate Cake (no shit) and I was starving for dessert.

"Let's eat," I said aloud.

"What?" she asked, clearly confused. My lips grazed her neck. Her ass pressed against my groin in instant response. I knew at that moment that she didn't even want an answer.

She just wanted me.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

"Oh honey, look at all these beautiful dresses! I don't even know where to begin!"

It was the first day of tour and instead of tagging along, I was at home. With mom. Dress shopping for a wedding that was coming up so fast that I was pretty sure I'd sneeze and it would be here. Mom had jam-packed our week with nothing but wedding to-do's. Today was the dress. Tomorrow was the venue and wedding planner. The next day was--

I didn't know. I didn't care.

Mom and I ended up getting leashed by one of the perky little clerks who I noticed right away didn't have a wedding band on her finger. She bounced through the store, jabbering a mile a minute, and uncannily, reminding me a little of Nick. It was the perpetual ADHD thing, I guess.

"So what are you, the bride, looking for?"

"I'm not really sure..." I trailed off.

"Probably thin straps or strapless," mom interjected. "Right honey? Since it's going to be so hot..."

"Sure," I said. When mom gave me a look, I forced a smile. "I think anything else and I'd melt."

As Malibu Barbie set forth to tug dress after dress off of the rack, my eyes roamed the store. It was a blanket of white. If all those dresses would have been snow, we would have been in for a blizzard of epic proportions. We would--"

My thoughts blanked out. I gasped. Barbie girl was headed towards the dressing rooms with mom in tow, but I was frozen. I stared. I stared harder.

There it was.

As if planted there by God himself, my dress, my 'Italy on the beach' dress was displayed on a mannequin, tucked in the corner of the room. The dress was a pure white with a soft sweeping neckline. The little tiny sleeves were off the shoulder and the material was loose so it could pick up the wind and brush slightly over my skin. Around the waist was a soft turquoise band to give the dress that little extra splash of color it needed.

It was the same turquoise as my favorite pair of Converse sneakers, the sneakers I had only wore once because I wanted to save them. The same sneakers I wanted to wear under my dress. That dress.

"Heather?"

Mom was standing next to me. I could practically feel her gaze turned to where I was looking. "Do you like that one?"

I was about to nod when Bridal Boutique Barbie came up, a tape measure draped around her neck. She looked at the dress and laughed.

"That's an old design. It's been here for about three years. Seriously, we just keep pushing it farther and farther back in the corner. Heather, your mom was telling me all about your wedding," her voice was getting more excited. "Considering who you're marrying, I skipped the dresses I initially pulled and went for the Wang line."

"How much is that dress?" I asked..

Barbie sighed. "It's deeply marked down. Five hundred."

"Honey, why don't we look at the Wang dresses first? You should never go with the first one you see."

I tensed. With every fiber of my being I wanted to shout - "Who's wedding is this?!' - but I didn't. Instead I turned, tearing my gaze from the dress and followed my mom and Ballerina Barbie to the dressing rooms. I tried to give myself a mental peptalk along the way. I wasn't getting married in Italy. It would be stupid to wear the Italy dress anywhere else. Besides, I was going to be photographed. In magazines.

I had to look the part...as fake as it was.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Brian

I was poking around backstage. “Nick?” I called, “Nick, VIP starts in like fifteen minutes…” I pushed open his dressing room. No Nick. I sighed. I started out towards the buses. He had to be somewhere in the frickin’ venue, right? Unless there was a Taco Bell around…? Nawh, Nick had lost his desire for tacos since he found out it wasn’t moo-meat.

I wandered out the back door of the venue, laughing to myself about this one time Nick and I had a taco eating contest and Heather had counted them and Nick had downed about fifteen tacos in under five minutes then puked them all back up in less than one… The bus Nick and AJ shared loomed ahead of me as I smiled to myself. Long story short, I needed to get over the Heather thing because they were both my best friends and I needed to get along with them both. And if Nick loved Heather and was willing to take this huge step of marrying her – of being with one woman for the rest of his life, of loving Heather – well, then, maybe I needed to stop putting my nose in other people’s business.

If Heather was happy with Nick, then I needed to be, too.

I pushed open the door to the bus. “Nick?” I called, climbing up the steps.

There was a thump, then a strangled cry of, “BRIAN?!? What’re you doin’ here?!”

And there was Nick, standing in the aisle by the bunks, all 6’whatever of him, in his naked glory. For the second time in a month I’d seen Nick’s appendage. I covered my eyes, “DUDE!” I yelled, “COVER IT!”

Nick’s hands made an audible slap as he clapped them over his junk and he groaned, “Ow, oh God.”

Before I could ask if he was okay, though, another voice did.

A voice I recognized too well.

I opened my eyes.

Lauren’s head was poking out from his bunk, concern on her face, her eyes wide, her hair brown again. Nick grimaced and shoved her head back into his bunk and let out a long breath. “Brian,” he said, “I can explain.”

I felt like my skin was set on fire. I stared at him. And I don’t know where it came from, but something in my gut snapped and I suddenly felt like a puma. I launched myself at Nick with every ounce of Kentucky boy strength I had and Nick shrieked and bolted, penis flailing as he took off down-wind, headed for the latrine. I missed landing square on him, but in my drop, I caught hold of his leg and toppled him. He crashed chest-first to the floor. “MY WEEN!” he shouted as he crunched against the carpet and skid. “RUG BURN ON THE WEEN!” he rolled, cupping again – more gently this time – and winced, tears coming out of the corners of his eyes.

“BRIAN!” Lauren shouted, “Brian get off of him!”

I had no mercy.

When Q and Marcus pulled me off Nick, Nick lay on the carpet whimpering and bleeding. He’d gotten in a couple good swipes at me, too, and my nose was gushing a pretty good river of red across the front of me. Q restrained me as Marcus got Nick up from the floor. “Go put pants on,” he demanded and Nick bolted to the bathroom, slamming the door with wild eyes.

Lauren, clad in Nick’s bathrobe, hovered, biting her fingernail and staring at me. “Brian,” she said quietly, “Nick just –“

“Shut the fuck up,” I snapped.

She looked taken aback.

“Brian,” Q’s voice was low, gentle, but I struggled out of his hands and backed away from them all. They were looking at me dumbfounded.

“I’m done taking crap from people,” I yelled, “I’m done with Nick dishing shit out to Heather. I’m done with you,” I pointed a shaking hand at Lauren, “Sleeping with an engaged man. I’m done with all the shit people are throwing at me!” I turned and started for the bus door. AJ and Howie appeared, concerned looks on their faces. “Get the frick out of my way,” I snapped, shoving between them and stampeding out the bus door.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” I heard Howie ask.

“He’s wishing he’d joined in on the lesbo sex,” AJ joked.

I whipped around, “STOP WITH THE LESBIAN SEX JOKES!” I yelled, “It’s not funny anymore, okay? It’s not funny that my wife is a lesbian. It’s not hot, it’s not funny. It’s not okay! I was in love with her, I loved her. I do love her, and Nick- Nick is just using her and throwing her aside like she’s some kind of –“

“Dude, are we talking about Nick and Heather or Leighanne and her lesbian?”

I realized somewhere in the middle of yelling I’d started yelling about Heather instead of about Leighanne.

“It doesn’t matter, does it?” I snapped, “Neither one of them loves me.”

And with that, I stormed back to the venue, Nick’s blood still on my fist.

I was done.
Chapter 18 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Eighteen

Nick

I hated when Brian got mad at me. It wasn't often, but when it happened, it was bad. The tension was enough to choke a cow. The type of cow that was not a part of a hard shell taco supreme from Taco Bell. Trust me, I know. That shit's mystery meat.

Anyhow, we managed to somehow get through that show in Chicago, if only because the choreography separated Bri and I a lot of the time. Makeup covered up the nice plow I had given to his nose, but nothing could help my rug burns. I was in agony by the time the show was over.

Now, I know that what I did was wrong, but it still pissed me off that Brian had turned on Lauren like that. It wasn't her fault that I had gone scampering on the bus. I had wanted to. I had made that decision; in fact, it was one of those rare decisions I made all by myself.

So sue me if it was the wrong choice.

The next few shows didn't go so well. Between girls asking Brian where the Wylee booth was, me sneaking out to the IHop to meet Lauren (okay, so I wasn't THAT injured), AJ pouting over being screamed at, and Howie just staying out of the way, we were falling apart.

Heather was waiting for us when we pulled up to the Mohegan Sun Casino in Connecticut for the first of our two shows. I was staring out the window and caught sight of her waiting in the blocked off area, shielding her eyes and watched the caravan of buses swing in.

I had said goodbye to Lauren the day before in Baltimore. Even though I had tried to make it an 'official' goodbye, it didn't work well.

'Cause Lauren had told me she loved me.

And I had kinda told her the same thing back.

I had never spilled the words so easily. There we were, two people committed to being uncommitted, telling each other 'I love you.'

Then there was the picture. Lauren had wanted a little goodbye momento. She had straddled me, commanding me to strike a sexy pose. I didn't know how much sexier I could get buckass naked, but I stretched my arms over my head, gave her my 'I'm too sexy for my clothes' death stare, and heard the telltale snap. Then we had just happened to have sex again. Sigh. In the words of Yoda - Amazing, it was.

I was so screwed.

"There's your fiance," AJ said, tapping the window above my head. He had jumped up on the couch, hanging over me with his ape pits just an inch above my head. I swatted at him.

"Git off, man!"

AJ whistled. "Someone's grouchy."

I scowled. I saw Heather making a beeline and I jumped off the couch, prepared to get tackled. After ninety seconds when the door didn't open an inch, I glanced back out. She was gone.

And AJ's grin just got a little bigger.

"What?"

"She ran to the other bus."

"The oth--"

"Brian's bus."

"Why the hell--"

"Didn't you see the picture floating around Twitter?"

I paled. I had a bad feeling. "What picture?"

J's face was as bright as that ugly leg lamp from A Christmas Story. It was horrendous and awe-inducing at the same time. "Someone snagged a picture of you that I think a certain 'Kitty' snapped of you last night," he sang.

"No."

"Yup!"

"You don't think--"

"Heather saw? Oh hells yeah I do."

I blanched. Suddenly I heard a loud thud and looked down. AJ was sprawled on the floor doing a horrible imitation of my pose.

"I'm ready for my close-up Mr. Deville," he simpered, batting his eyelashes and keeping his brown orbs on me.

I snapped. You know the saying, 'if you can't take the heat, get outta the kitchen?' Well the heat was getting to much for me, but instead of getting out I thought beating up the kitchen was the better idea. I lunged for AJ, just like Brian had lunged for me five days before. He wasn't fast enough to scramble away. We wrestled around on the ground for several minutes before Marcus and Q broke us apart. I swear that those guys have a sixth sense about us. AJ spat on the ground, wiggling against the hold Q had him in.

"Don't blame me for your inability to keep it in your--"

"You need to keep your nose outta things!"

"You and Brian need mental help!"

"This has nothing to do with Brian!"

"This has everything to do with Brian! Just let him have Heather and go get Lauren and stop all this soap opera bullshit!"

I stopped flailing against Marcus. My jaw went slack.

"This is---she doesn't---I---"

Q must have realized AJ wasn't going to go all Captain Demento on him anymore. He let go and AJ rubbed his elbow.

"Why is it that everyone else can see what's going on except you three? Maybe that picture coming out was a good thing. Something has to make you guys wake up."

J tapped Q on the shoulder. "Let's go play a couple slots." He gave me a look as him and the big guy walked past.

"Make the right choice, Nick."

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

I slammed onto Brian’s bus. I’d just spent the worst night of my life. I’d found the picture ten minutes after she posted with the caption look what I’m doing right now. I’d laid in bed sick to my stomach, rolling and imagining her fingers on him, imagining his face, his eyes, his bare chest, all the features and body parts that were supposed to be mine.

And the scariest part was I was kind of wondering why I was so upset.

“Brian,” I choked out his name, “Brian?”

No actually, the scariest part was not only was I not upset, but I was excited a little bit because Nick cheating on me had given me the license to go to Brian, to tell Brian I loved him, to beg him to take me instead of Leighanne.

“Brian!” I called again.

I froze. Because I heard it.

“Mmm, ohh. Yeah. Yeah. Oh that feels so good, don’t stop.”

I was standing mere paces from the bunks, and I couldn’t go any further. I was nine years old all over again, frozen in place by the fence, ten feet from the Jacuzzi, their limbs intertwined in ways that I hadn’t even known boys and girls could do before that moment. Except this time it was no Jacuzzi.

My heart practically shattered. So he had gone back to Kentucky to get Leighanne. And now he was doing what any married man should be doing with their wives. He was making love to her.

Love.

I staggered backwards without another word, down the steps and off the bus to the lot. My stomach was in coiled knots of agony. How the hell could I have been stupid enough to think that maybe he’d choose me over her?

I dashed across the lot, bleary eyed and aching, when I ran square into Nick, who had been on his way to Brian’s bus. I hit him in the chest with the full force of my run, and he caught me, his hands on my back, his strong – good smelling boy hands. He stared down at me, “Heather, I—“

And suddenly it was like my brain went blank. I didn’t want to run away, I didn’t want to do anything except make the pain stop. And there was a lot of pain. I looked into Nick’s eyes and, in the most broken voice I’d ever heard escape my mouth, I said, “Fuck me.”

He blinked in surprise, “What?”

“Take me to your bus and fuck my brains out,” I snapped.

Nick licked his lips, his eyes growing hungry. Then, like he was snapping out of it, he shook his head, “Heather, no I’ve been so disrespectful to you, it’d be wrong to –“

NICK!” I yelled his name sharply, like a pissed off mother. “I said fuck me.”

Apparently chivalry can only withstand the offer being presented twice because Nick didn’t stand up against me a second time, he picked me up and carried me back to his bus, his crotch growing against mine, his fingers clutching me. We landed on the bus floor and I started yanking clothing off my body, like shedding the shirt and pants and lingerie I’d been wearing when I heard Brian with Leighanne would make the memories fade.

“Heather,” he said cautiously, “Heather, did you see the –“

“The picture? Yeah.” I shook my head, “I don’t care.”

“You don’t ca—“

“NICK!” I shouted his name again, sharply, and he reacted like I’d slapped him. He stared at me, eyes wild. “Are you gonna stick it in me or what?”

He stared at me, “What got into you?” he asked.

And that’s all it took.

I was laying on the bus floor, Nick pulled over me, only wearing panties and a bra, and sobbing. Tears poured out of my eyes and streamed down my cheeks. Nick stared at me, dumbfounded and confused looking. “Heather, I-“

“Shut up,” I begged, “I need you to love me like you love her.”

He stared at me. “Heather,” his voice was gentle.

“Just fucking keep pretending then,” I sobbed, “Please.”

Nick lay down beside me like he was collapsing and turned to curl his body against mine, his arm tucking across my bare stomach. “I’m not pretending to love you,” he whispered quietly, “I just – I think I love her, too.”

And I couldn’t see through the tears.


-------------------------------------------------------------


Brian

I’d been ditched by Howie and Leigh – who were probably having crazy-wild sex on the tour bus Howie and I were sharing right now. I was running late. The hotel room smelled like shower and my hair was still wet even as I tugged my shirt on and tied my sneakers. Downstairs, Jenn and a van were waiting for me to get me to the venue in time for VIP. I stared at the letter I’d written. I’d spent hours writing it, and carefully scrawling Heather’s name on the envelope. I was going to tell her the moment I saw her, try to beat Nick to her.

I’d seen the picture of Nick on Twitter, surely she had too. Surely she wouldn’t wanna still marry him. Surely this was my chance.

I clutched the envelope in my teeth.

And just in case I pansied out, I had written it all down and sealed it with scotch tape.

“Took you long enough,” Jenn chastised as I crawled across the seat into the van.

“Sorry,” I said, tucking the envelope into my jacket pocket. “I was extra stinky from all the basket ball.” I winked at her. As stress relief, I’d made Jenn find me a hoop to play at in Baltimore and I’d played for a solid six hours just me and the net.

Jenn wrinkled her nose, “And now you smell like a cologne factory threw up on you.” She smirked, “Hot date tonight, Littrell?” she asked, winking.

“Sort of,” I answered. I subconsciously patted my chest, where the envelope was hiding.

At the venue, the van dropped me off by mine and Howie’s bus – from which emerged a very messy haired Leigh and a prouder-than-pie Howie. “Thanks for the –er- alone time,” Howie greeted me with a wink.

“Yeah, no problem.” I glanced around. I didn’t see Heather anywhere. “Have you seen Heather any—“

“Really? Have I seen anything except the bunk and –“ Howie looked at Leigh.

“Nevermind.” I jogged away from the love birds, and prayed Heather was maybe backstage.
Chapter 19 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Nineteen

Nick

"So one day, Little Red Riding Hood was on her way to see her grandmother in the forest. Her mother warned her, 'Don't walk through the forest, take the path, or else the Big Bad Wolf will catch you and suck your tits dry!' Little Red started towards her grandmother's house but decided to take the shortcut through the forest anyway. The turtle stopped Little Red and warned her 'Turn back and use the path, because if the Big Bad Wolf finds you, he'll suck your tits dry!' Little Red was almost there, so she kept going through the forest. Sure enough, the Big Bad Wolf jumps out of nowhere and tells her 'Take off your shirt Little Red Riding Hood - I'm gonna suck your tits dry!!' 'Oh no you don't,' yells Little Red, as she pulls up her skirt, 'You're gonna eat me just like the story says!'

My big finale was met by two laughs (AJ and Rochelle - who had arrived just moments before), a groan (Leigh), and a grin (Howie). Heath, who was sitting on my lap, didn't let anything out.

After her breakdown earlier, I had felt crummier than I had ever felt before. But at least I had been honest with her. I loved her...

But I loved Lauren too. And I was beginning to realize I loved them in different ways. There was gonna be no sister wives for me. No way. Uh-Uh.

"Dude that would be a joke Leighanne would appreciate now," AJ quipped. Heather got up from my lap.

"What? Why?" Ro asked.

"You didn't tell her?" I said incredulously. Heath was almost to the door.

"Tell me what?" Ro was now staring pointedly at her monkee man. AJ snickered.

"Brian went home and caught her with a chick. She," he paused for effect. "is a lesbo."

Something slammed against the door and it took me a moment to realize it had been Heath. Her lips parted and she seemed to either be in the throes of self-orgasm or hyperventilati ng. Our eyes met.

"Nick. Hall. NOW."

I looked around, feeling squirmy. D and Jizzle didn't seem to be in a rush to rescue me. I slid my palms over the Jean material covering my thighs and stood up slowly.

She jumped on me the moment the door closed. Not literally, but, well...

"Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded.

"It wasn't my business!" I complained. "He told us not to talk about it anymore."

Heather's teeth slammed together. She started talking, but it was almost as if she was talking to herself.

"If that wasn't...who was?" she clapped her hand over her mouth. It almost sounded like a muffled curse sliding between her fingers. She lowered her hand and looked at me frantically.

"I asked you to fuck me!" she squeaked.

"I remember..." I said slowly. I remembered a lot of things...like how she didn't care that I was banging Lauren.

But her fist slamming into my shoulder said otherwise.

"You pig! How was I so stupid?!"

"What are you---"

"Get away from her."

Heather and I both turned. Brian was standing feet away and even at this distance I could smell him. It was like he had taken a friggin bath in cologne.

"Bri," I said gratefully. "Maybe you can..."

I didn't get a chance to finish. All of a sudden it was Deja vu all over again as he lunged at me.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

After my breakdown on the bus in which Nick had held me tight and actually acted like a gentlemen, I had spent the hour or so before soundcheck writing. My plot was all over the place - holly kept wavering back and forth between the two men in her life, unable to tell ERIC how she felt. Somewhere along the way I had gone back and given him a wife.

But I sure as hell never thought of making her a lesbian.

The news had sent shock waves down my spine. If Leighanne wasn't here...

Who had been sexing it up in the bus?

My gut now told me it hadn't been Brian. He wasn't the type of guy to go out and get a random girl to feel better.

Unlike my fiancé. I was convinced I had been clinically insane when I told him the naked picture Lauren had taken if him hadn't bothered me. I had just wanted someone to take the hurt away...

How STUPID.

Now I was standing directly in between Nick and Brian. Even though Nick had height, he looked nervous. Brian's face was set in hard resolve. My heart pounded.

My...prince?

The moment I thought it I sighed. If he knew what I had done and said to Nick on the bus...

But it was accident. Yes, I had told him to fuck me under false pretenses.

He was mid-lunge, his hands aimed somewhere in the vacinity of Nick's throat when I found my voice.

"Brian..."

He skidded to a halt. Then he shook his head.

"NO. I'm tired of being interrupted," he said angrily. I gasped. He was still staring daggers at Nick so I figured the anger wasn't towards me, but his dominating tone...

Well, it turned me on, my face turned scarlet as I stepped out of the path if destruction.

"Nick's been fucking Lauren behind your back and he doesn't deserve you. He doesn't deserve pond scum."

"Bri---" Nick started to say but Brian walked over and headlocked him.

"You're not going to ruin this!" he yelled.

He was a madman. A madman that smelled great, but still...

"This ends---"

"Rok, Nick, let's go! D and AJ are already out there. We've got to get going on time today," Justin said. He seemed unfazed that Nick was still in a headlock.

As for me, well...I...

"She knows about Lauren and she doesn't care!" Nick gasped, pulling out of the hold.

Brian turned astonished (disappointed?) eyes towards me.

Nick was ruining it all!

"That's not true!" I blurted.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Brian

Nick and I both looked at Heather.

Nick rolled his eyes, “Honey,” he said quietly, “I’m sorry. I mean I know you carebut—“

“No, I hate that you’re sleeping with her!” Heather yelled. It was kind of like she’d caught some of the Incredible Hulk that had taken over me moments before. “Why do you think I was crying?” she demanded.

Nick looked dumbfounded. “I dunno, cos girls cry sometimes when the sex is like that good.”

I cupped my face with my hand. Sometimes I almost felt bad for Nick because he literally just doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut. Right now, I kind of hoped she pummeled him for it.

Heather was looking at him in astonishment. “You stupid --“ and she reached for her Converse sneaker, ripped it off her foot and lobbed it at him.

Nick ducked the flyaway sneaker. “You fucked me,” he snapped.

I blinked at the term.

“Yeah, I did because I’m even stupider than you are,” Heather bellowed at him. She grabbed at the ring on her finger, “Take this back you jackass.” She stared tugging, trying to rip it off, but she couldn’t get it and finally she shouted, “My hand is swelled, you’ll have to get your monstrosity of a ring back later!” And she turned on the ball of her feet.

Justin, who I think we’d all pretty much forgotten, was standing there looking verklempt (like Mike Myers?). “Jesus,” he muttered. He glanced between Nick and I. “What the hell is going on?”

“Brian’s trying to steal my fiancé,” Nick snapped at the exact same time as I said, “Nick’s cheating on my best friend.”

“Best friend my ass,” Nick hooted.

I turned to react, but Justin grabbed the back of my shirt. “Hey, hey, ladies,” he snapped, “God ya’ll are pathetic.”

Nick pointed his finger at me, “You stay away from her.”

“Make me.”

“FINE.” Nick reached around Justin and shoved my shoulder hard enough to send me into the wall. “You’re not my best man anymore. Consider yourself fried!”

“FIRED!” I yelled, “The word you mean is fired. NOT FRIED.”

“YOU CAN BE BOTH!” Nick yelled.

“Get a GED!”

“I’M WORKING ON IT!”

“What, they don’t teach you fired/fried on the iPad!?”

“GO TO HELL!”

“THAT’S WHERE I COULD BE FRIED!”

“FUCK YOU!”

“GUYS!”

The last bit was yelled by Donnie Walhberg, who had just come up and draped his arm around Nick’s shoulders. “Guys, what the hell is happening here?” he laughed, “You two are so loud, you’re interrupting our soundcheck.”

“Brian’s wife is a lesbian,” Nick stated, and he turned, shrugged Donnie’s arm off his shoulders and walked away.

Donnie’s eyes were wide. He looked at me. “Get out,” he stammered. He smirked as Justin let go of the collar of my shirt. “Congrats.” He winked.

I sighed.
Chapter 20 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Twenty

Nick

Thanks to Donnie 'DVR'd Blue Bloods that I've never watched' Wahlberg, Brian and I managed to stop ruining the NKOTB soundcheck and get through ours. Donnie was kinda like a pseudo-Kevin. I was almost tempted to glue a pair of those huge ass Bert eyebrows on his face when he was sleeping. Then he'd really be Kev. Sorta.

But, making Donnie into Kevin wasn't the biggest problem I had. No, the biggest problem was the giant blow-up backstage. I was taking Heather's swollen finger as a sign. I had put a ring on her finger and damnit, the ring wasn't supposed to come off.

Heather had run off to parts unknown and Brian and I were watching each other like a hawk, making sure neither of us ran off after her. What Bri didn't know what was that I also intercepted his plan B.

I was nibbling on a coffee straw when I saw a young pimply face dude scurrying by looking like he had just gotten the lead role in Mission Impossible. It piqued my interest. It's piqued it so much that I shot my foot out and accidentally let the guy trip over it.

"Dude, you okay?" I asked, concern lacing my voice as I knelt down. Now that I was up close and personal, I could see that he had been holding something in the crook of his arm.

"Y-yes, sir," the boy stammered. I put on my million watt smile. It didn't work so well with dudes, but I thought...eh, why not?

"You look like a singer," I said, hoping I sounded serious. The guy's eyes widened even more.

"R-really?"

"Yeah," I said, pumping enthusiasm into my voice now. "You remind me of myself when I was your age. I bet you're interning here to learn the ropes. Am I right?"

Pimple-dude was getting a little star struck now. "Yes, sir!" he said. He scrambled to his feet without picking up what he dropped. I tried not to make eye contact with it, lest I give myself away.

"Tell you what," I said. "I really need a Quarter Pounder with Cheese. Like bad. As bad as Elvis needed a peanut butter and banana sandwich bad. If you go get me one I'll give you some voice lessons before the show."

I don't know what he had been bribed with before, but my offer must have trumped it. "Serious?"

"Serious," I said. I held up my hand and did a weird, horrible attempt at the boy scout motto. Instead, I'm pretty sure I just flashed the sign for the Bloods.

"Wow, I'll go now. There's a McDonald's right down the--"

I grabbed my stomach. "Hurry! I'm jonesin' for those large onions!"

The boy must have thought I was seriously going to explode. I had never seen a worn pair of Nike's move so fast.

Then again, I don't think I've ever moved so fast. I bent down and swooped up the envelope lying on the floor. I recognized Brian's hand-writing right away. Written on the front, in lovey-dovey Brian-ese was one word:

Heather

The back was heavily sealed with scotch tape. I snickered. I looked left. I looked right. I stepped back into the corner and worked my pinkie underneath the slight gap on the right hand side.

I took no mercy as I ripped the envelope open and slid out the three (three) friggin' pages of handwriting. I didn't have to read it all to realize he was declaring his love to her.

My fiance.

I shook my head. "No way. Uh-uh," I muttered. Yes, I was a cheater. Yes, she was kinda sharing my love with Lauren...

But she was still mine. I had seen her first. Okay, so that wasn't true, but, well, damnit, I had slept with her first.

Yeah, that's right. I'm pretty sure I had ruined her for all other men.

And I was sure as hell not going to give Brian the chance to prove me wrong. This was competition. This was war.

Even if I had to put on every ounce of Carter charm I had, Heather and I were going to be walking down the aisle.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

I was sitting by the buses, waiting. After the explosion backstage, I was sure Brian would come after me to make sure I was okay. But as I sat there, I heard the soundcheck starting, saw Justin bring the girls in from the front, and knew he wasn’t coming. I hugged my knees to my chest and wondered what that meant.

As I was sitting there, a pimpley-faced kid ran across the parking lot carrying a McDonalds. Security didn’t even blink, so he must’ve been in ops with the venue or someone somewhere in the entourage. I watched as he galloped towards Nick’s bus with the greasy bag. He stood by the bus door, about ten feet away from me, hopping foot to foot like he had to pee, and staring at the bus door, muttering to himself.

Interest piqued, I got to my feet. I needed a distraction anyways.

“Hey,” I greeted him.

He looked up and his eyes got wide. “M-Miss Heather, h-hi.” Then he did the weirdest thing a boy has ever done in front of me. And that says a lot because I’ve seen a lot of weird mating rituals thanks to Nick and AJ. But no, this kid grabbed his arm pit, and then did this funny little Mexican-Sombrero-esque dance around in a circle like his twinkle toes were on fire. He looked up at me and gushed, “Oh shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

He didn’t answer. He was now in his own world. “I must’ve left it at McDonalds. Oh shit. SHIT.” He looked at me, he looked at the McDonald’s bag, he looked at the bus, he looked at the venue. “Give this to Nick,” he shoved the McDonalds bag into my hand. And like he was set on fire with a rocket coming out his ass, he bolted off, back past security and, I’m assuming, back to the McDonalds from whence he’d come.

Teenagers get weirder instead of more normal.

I pushed my way onto the tour bus and dropped the greasy bag onto the table. As my hand lowered the bag, I caught sight of the stupid ring. My throat tightened and I reached for it. Maybe it’ll come off now. My fingers grasped the huge-ass rock and started trying to tug it off. I’d leave it for him with his stupid double-quarter-pounder.

The bus door opened and Nick was suddenly standing there. He glanced between me and the grease-soaked stained bag. “Damn,” he muttered, “That kid’s good.”

I stared at him. “I’m done talking to you, I was just trying to give you back your fucking ring.”

I started to push by him, but Nick is way stronger than I am and with one arm he was able to corral me and keep me there in front of him. He pulled me against him. “Heather, I was thinking,” he whispered, leaning close to me, “Please… please reconsider. I –“ he held my elbows with intensity, the same passion that he had on his face when he sang. He stared into my eyes. He wasn’t lying when he said, “I love you, Heather.”

Tears sprang to my eyes, “Nick, I—“

I’d been about to tell him I love Brian. But he interrupted me.

“Let me finish,” he pleaded. “Heather, I’m done with Lauren. Done. I- I realized today that I can’t lose you. I can’t. And it doesn’t matter that Brian hates me. It doesn’t matter who hates me or who does or doesn’t understand about us. We got each other and that’s money, honey.”

I stared at him.

His eyes searched mine for a long moment. It was like he could read me like a book. “Brian’s not coming,” he said quietly. He let out a long, low sigh, and he turned his back to me. “I wasn’t gonna tell you this, Heath Bar, but…” he shook his head. “No. I shouldn’t tell you. I said I wouldn’t and I shouldn’t.”

“Tell me what?” I asked.

Nick sighed. “Heath… Brian’s…” he turned and looked at me. Our eyes connected. His eyes never flinched or looked away from me – so I knew he wasn’t lying. “Here. He wrote you a note.” Nick’s voice sounded defeated. He shoved it into my palm.

It was folded awkwardly, written freehand on a piece of thin photocopy paper, in pencil that had been erased and written over several times so that the area the note was in was even thinner than the rest of the page, with a lead-colored haze around it. I stared down at the words – which were in what looked like a rushed version of Brian’s normally neat and tidy handwriting.

Heather,
I talked to Chris. I know how you feel about me. You’re like a
sister to me. How could you possibly think about me any other way?
You and Nick belong together. Nick isn’t that bad of a guy really,
I know he’s done wrong but he loves you and that’s more than I
can say about myself. Don’t throw away what you have with Nick
for a foolish dream of having the boy next door.
Brian.


I crumpled the note and threw it into the trash and went and locked myself into the latrine.


- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Brian

I grabbed the pimpley-faced kid’s arm as he rushed by me, looking frantic. “Hey,” I said, catching him. He looked up at me. “Did you find Heather?”

“Y-yes I did, but I –“

“Good, good,” I smiled and slipped the kid a fifty. “Here’s a tip.”

“But I-“

“Thanks again,” I patted his back, “Good luck with getting the voice lessons you’re saving for.” I smiled. He’d told me earlier how he’d been saving like crazy for the vocal program at a local arts school. I’d promptly paid him $100 to deliver the letter to Heather.

Now it was just a matter of waiting for her to come to me and Nick had no idea.

I jumped up and left before the kid could try to hold another conversation. He was one of those people that didn’t stop once you got them started. He reminded me of another pimple-faced teen I’d once known. Nick.

I glanced around and realized he’d disappeared.

Hmmm.

I made my way across the giant penis-stage and came up behind a cluster of the guys talking. Howie and Joey and Donnie. “You guys seen Nick?” I asked.

Howie glanced around, “He was just here a second ago.”

“He said something about a double-quarter pounder,” offered Joey. “You should tell him that stuff is crap food.”

“Yeah, send him to the gym,” Donnie beamed, “If he wants to stay looking as good as me…” he laughed.

Donnie and Nick were practically peeing on each other for the position as hot guy of NKOTBSB, since that was the title they each held in their respective bands. I kind of felt bad for Donnie. He really wasn’t that must competition for Nick.

I jumped down off the stage and made my way out the backdoor. I kept hoping I’d bump into Heather. I made my way to Nick’s tour bus and let myself in. I heard Nick before I saw him.

“C’mon babe, let me in,” he was saying.

I hovered in the door way. “Why don’t you leave her alone?” I asked.

Nick stopped thumping on the door. He turned and looked at me. He glanced at the latrine door, then came towards me, pulling the door that closed off the living area and latrine from the tiny bunks hall behind him. He stood in front of me, beady eyes. “Do you see what you’ve done?” he demanded.

I blinked. “What I’ve done? Nick, you did this to yourself.”

Nick grabbed the envelope off the table before I’d even noticed it was there. He waved it in my face. My handwriting flickered by me. “This,” he said. “Some little fucker came by with it and gave it to her while we were talking – she was giving me my ring back… and she gets this and –“

I couldn’t help it, I felt my heart skip a beat and an electric charge shoot through my body. “What’d she say?” I asked, hopeful.

Nick looked me solidly in the face. “She laughed.”

“Laughed?” I asked.

Nick sighed, “Brian, look, I’m sorry, but…” he swallowed. “Dude, I wasn’t gonna tell you this, ‘cos you’re my best friend. Even when we’re fighting, you know, you’re always my best friend… and…” he dropped his eyes to the floor. “I don’t really want you to get fired in hell.”

“Fried,” I whispered, “You fired me, then told me to get fried in hell.”

Nick looked up. “Brian,” he said quietly, “She doesn’t love you.”

My heart was slamming in my chest. “She doesn’t?” I asked. Then a thought occurred to me. “You’re just saying that, you want me to give up and go away. Of course you would, you’re-“

Brian,” he said, his voice persistent, “Look, dude, I’m sorry. I wish it was different. I wish I didn’t have to be the one to tell it to you, but-“ he sighed, “Bri, she’s in the bathroom, she’s crying because she’s afraid you’re gonna hate her for not loving her back. She- she thinks she’s gonna lose your friendship.”

I felt my eyes welling up. How could I have been so stupid to think that Heather might love me back? Was I an idiot? She’d said it herself in the hospital waiting room. I was like a brother. Of course she didn’t love me. What was there to love when you compared me to Nick? I mean I know I’m not atrocious to look at, but my looks are more charming in a school boy way than drop dead sexy like Nick. And I didn’t have Nick’s charisma or those funny, quirky things he does. And she’d stayed with him through the cheating, as twisted as it sounds, that was really a sign that she loved him back, wasn’t it? I mean, she was willing to put up with it, to overlook it, to love him anyways.

I started to turn away, feeling shattered. But Nick caught my arm, “Bri,” he said quietly, “Can you- can you talk to her?”

“Talk to her?” I asked. My throat swelled.

“Yeah, can you just tell her that you want to still be friends?” Nick asked. “It’ll… it’ll help her feel better.”

I walked to the latrine door, Nick’s eyes on me like a hawk. He looked nervous for me. I knocked on the door gently, hesitantly. “Go away, Nick,” she called.

“It’s – it’s me,” I stammered.

She was silent.

“Heather,” I whispered.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped out.

I stared at my toes, “No… Heather, I’m sorry,” I answered, “I- I shouldn’t have written that letter.”

“You were just being honest,” she said. The latrine door opened and she peeked out. Her eyes were red and her nose was running and she had mascara tracks leaking across her cheeks. My heart broke just looking at her. I felt like how Cinderella’s mice must’ve felt once she got the prince and moved out of the house and left them there in her attic room with nothing but their little sewing kit.

“Heather,” I whispered, “I- I still want us to be friends.”

She nodded. “You’re my big brother, how could we not be?” her voice was warbled with emotion. “I love you, Bri,” she said quietly.

My stomach turned at the title big brother. That’s all I would ever be to the woman I loved so completely. “I love ya too, kiddo.” She opened the door and pressed her face into my chest, her body shaking, feeling as delicate as a bird’s.

“Bri,” Nick’s voice was quiet, “Its time for the show.”

I broke away from Heather’s grasp, grateful for an excuse to get away, to run away. I climbed out of the bus, Nick at my heels, and we rushed across the parking lot to the venue. When we got backstage, Nick patted my back. “It’s gonna be okay, Bro,” he said quietly. He looked me in the eyes. “I promise I’m gonna be better to her,” he added. He stared at me and smiled sadly, “Now that I know how much she means to you—I- I feel like I’m obligated to- to treat her as best as I can. To do you proud.”

“Thanks,” I muttered.

“And I’m gonna start by going back to Kentucky and getting her that other ring. The one you said I should get. She hates this one and I feel like – well, I – I need to make the gesture of starting over again, you know?”

I nodded.

Nick flung his arm around my neck, “I knew you’d understand. You’re awesome like that.”

I did the show that night but my heart wasn’t in it. My heart wasn’t going to be in anything for a very long time. My heart was broken.
Chapter 21 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Twenty One

Nick

"I'm sorry sir, someone has purchased that ring."

"What? No way. That's impossible. The ring I'm talking about--"

"Yes sir," the woman's voice was polite. "I know which one you're talkin about. It's been sold."

"Who bought it?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm not allowed--"

"What did he looked like?"

"It was one of our Internet orders."

I exhaled. Heather had been more than happy to give me the rock to send back. Now I was scrambling like a madman to give her the perfect replacement.

"Do you have one like it?"

"I'm sorry, but that was a one of a kind piece."

I snorted. "For five thousand dollars?"

"The designer keeps his rings low. He believes anyone who buys one of his pieces is in true love."

"The designer sounds loopier than Richard Simmons," I muttered. "Listen, I just need one in that similar smile. Small, simple. Incapable of causing wounds."

"I think I have something that just came in," the lady said. "I can send it to you overnight. May I have your location?"

I glanced out the window. It was the morning of the big Fenway show.

"Send it to the IZOD Center in East Rutherford," I said. "I'll be there tomorrow."

"Absolutely, Mr. Carter. I think you'll be pleased."

"Thanks," I said. I gave out my credit card information and ended the call. I stared out the bus window and grimaced.

Brian had picked up Baylee in the wee hours of the morning. I was hoping he would be engaged in some father/son bonding time. And he was...

But they weren't alone.

The sun shone on Heather's blonde ponytail as she got into perfect aiming position. Baylee was in full-on open mouth laugh mode as he tackled her legs. Heather made an exaggerated jerking motion, but she still made the basket. Brian came up, hand aloft and they high-fived. Their fingers intertwined for just a second before Bri scooped the ball off and the three of them were back in the game.

After the whole letter incident, it had taken a couple days for the two of them to get back in 'friend' mode. Brian was taking a little longer to warm up to me, but I had rehired him for best man duties. Heather and I had talked late into the night after I had set in place the wheels that had put the two of them firmly back in friends territory. Heath had poured her guts out to me about everything that had been bugging her. Some things I couldn't fix (like sleeping with Lauren), but other things like moving the wedding back to the Fall I could do.

We'd officially become Mr. and Mrs. October 28, three days before Halloween.

"Psst."

I turned. AJ had his head hanging out of the bathroom. "Can you go somewhere for a bit?"

"What?"

"Go somewhere?"

Ro's face peeked out under his arm. "I've got to fly back tonight," she explained.

I got the message. I grinned and picked up my wallet. My plan to keep wooing Heather required a trip to the flower shop anyhow. A dozen roses waiting for her in the owner's booth at Fenway certainly wouldn't hurt.

"Alright. Have fun. Wrap it up, J!"

I didn't hear his response. I opened the door and hopped down. Sure enough, Baylee was chattering a mile a minute and the constant 'thump thump' of the basketball filled the air. I hovered for a second, watching as Bri and Heather both let Baylee line up and make a basket.

They look like a family, I thought. I shook my head.

"No way," I muttered under my breath. "Not gonna happen.

Mentally upping my order to two dozen roses, I swung around the front of the bus and headed in the direction of a golf cart. I was sure I could find another geeky intern to take me around.

Fame certainly had its perks.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

"One more game!"

"Buddy," Brian gasped, yanking at his sticky shirt. "If we play one more game, you're gonna be picking your ol' dad up off the ground."

The wind flung Baylee's hair into his face, but it only caused the adorable little mini-Bri to grin more. "Aww, c'mon dad! Heather's not tired. Are you?"

He lifted his eyes to mine and jutted out his lower lip. I melted.

"Well, I..."

"If we play another game, we won't have time for ice cream," Bri said. He caught my eye and he winked.

'Ice cream' was the magic word. Baylee dropped the ball and it rolled, coming to a stop right at the toe of my sneaker. "What are we waiting for?" he cried, ripping off his yellow Lakers jersey. I started to laugh.

"Boy, you're in the presence of a lady!" Brian said, his shoulders already shaking with laughter.

"It's Heather!" Baylee complained. "Besides I'm all sweaty!"

"Aw kiddo, don't listen to your dad. It's just cause you've got more muscle than he does," I teased. "He's jealous." Bay's eyes danced in amusement. I felt Bri's eyes on me.

"Is that a challenge?"

My heart pounding. Was it?

After days of giving myself mental pep talks and diving into my story to escape from my own reality, I had emerged, kinda like a butterfly, ready to be the best buddy I could be. Even if I was a buddy that kinda wanted to see him shirtless.

"You don't have the guts. I haven't seen you without a shirt since '99," I taunted.

"It's cause of his scar," Baylee said. "But dad, don't be a chicken!"

I guess it might have had something to do with his eight-year-old calling him a chicken, but Bri grabbed the bottom of his jersey and ripped it off.

My breath left my lungs.

The tour had left him lean and muscular. The scar that he always complained about was barely visible. If I hadn't been there for his surgery, I would never have realized he had ever had his chest cracked open. He let out a Tarzan yell, beating his chest and staring right at me, gauging my reaction.

If I had been like Holly in my story, I would have pushed him up against the basketball pole and kissed him until he forgot his name. Unfortunately, his son was watching...

And I was just his buddy. A buddy that had just lost the challenge.

"I guess ice cream's on me!" I said, pushing enthusiasm into my voice. "Not bad, Littrell."

Bri's fists dropped. His hands curled around his hips. "I do what I can." He glanced at Baylee. "Hey buddy, run ahead and jump in the shower. We'll get some ice cream before we hit the park."

"Okay!" Bay shouted. His large sneakers, just miniature versions of Brian's, hit the blacktop. He bounded back on the bus. Bri picked his shirt up off the scorching ground.

"I'm glad he was able to come out here," I said. Bri tossed the shirt over his shoulder, seemingly in no hurry to put it back on. Little drips of sweat fell from his neck down his back. I was practically mesmerized.

"Leighanne and I are working it out," he said. "Now that the shock has kinda died away..."

"I still can't believe it," I said honestly.

"Me either, but at least now that the air has cleared we can talk like adults."

I nodded. "Has Baylee met...?"

"Heather?" Brian said. His grin widened at my shocked look. "Yeah, her name's Heather."

"Hunh," I said. I didn't know what else to say.

"Once. We're easing into it. It's not a simple thing to sit your kid down and explain...well, that."

"He's a smart kid, though," I said. "And someday soon I'm sure he'll have to get used to you having someone else around."

Bri stopped. "Me?"

I turned to him. He looked surprised.

"Now that the fans now, I think you're hotter than Nick," I teased, even as my heart squeezed. "I'm sure Miss Right will end up right in front of your nose..."

"As big as it is," I added, pressing my thumb to it lovingly.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Brian

Miss Right was pressing my nose.

I stared at her thumb down the length of my nose, my eyes all crossed and my focus on her fingernail. I felt my throat get hot and scratchy. How in the world could she know what she knew about how I felt and feel so comfortable talking like this to me? She was a braver woman than I.

Er.

You know what I mean.

I grabbed hold of my shirt, laughed and turned to pull it over my head, giving me time to sucker in some breath for composure. I tugged it down and tucked it back into my pants, keeping my profile to her. “Do you uh want to go with us to get the ice cream?” I asked, “There’s a place around the corner that makes the ice cream right there, they like mix in the toppings you want and stuff. It sounds pretty great. You can literally get any kind you want. Baylee got coconut crunch bar strawberry swirl last time. I mean literally any flavor.”

Heather smiled, “Nick’s probably wanting to go out.”

“Right.” I nodded. I scooped up the basketball and my eyes landed on her teal Converse sneakers for the first time. Sure we’d been playing together but who notices other people sneakers? I stood up and pointed to the sneakers. “Your wedding sneakers?”

Heather laughed. She looked at her feet and wiggled them around. “Yeah,” she said. She looked me in the eyes. “Nick bought me a pair of really pretty heels for the wedding,” she explained, “Jimmy Choo.” She smiled, “I figured I might as well break in my sneakers.”

The thought of Heather breaking in her wedding sneakers made me melancholy. I forced a smile at her. “At least you get to wear them.”

Heather smiled, “Playing ball with my best friend.”

Baylee suddenly bounded back off the bus, hair soaked and smelling only faintly like shampoo. “Okay let’s go.”

I laughed, “No way are you all the way clean,” I said.

“Yup, all the way,” he said.

“Did you do behind your ears?” I asked. Baylee opened his mouth to answer and I added, “Don’t lie, I can tell the truth.”

He stared at me defiantly a moment, then finally he groaned, “Okay fine. I’ll be right back.” He disappeared back onto the bus.

Heather laughed as Baylee disappeared back onto the bus. I sighed. “Well, have fun with Nick,” I said and I started walking away.

“Brian?”

I turned and looked at Heather. She stared at me. There was a long, pregnant pause in which I envisioned her telling me that she’d changed her mind about us… but then she tapped her nose and said, “She’ll show up.”

I nodded. “Yeah.” I smiled, “Right in front of my nose.”
Chapter 22 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Twenty Two

Nick

"You're a brave man to take me to dinner here.  It's crawling with people.  Why didn't we have dinner before sound check again?"

Heather's flip-flops were, er flip-flopping loudly as she walked beside me. I gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"'Cause I like to live dangerously," I said.  She shook her head, her gaze drifting over the seats quickly filling up.  "Where are we going?" she asked.

"You'll see," I said in my best 'Mysterio' voice.

We climbed up towards the owner's booth.  I hovered by the door. "Close your eyes."

"What? Nick..."

"Close em."

She sighed dramatically, but her baby blues fluttered closed. I took her by the elbows and shuffled her inside.

"Oh," she exclaimed. I saw her chest rise and she inhaled deeply. "What's that smell?"

Now usually when I had people asking me that question, it was with a look of disgust. But, this time her face softened and a brillant smile lit up her entire being.

"Open 'eeeemmm!" I sang.

Heather's eyes popped open.  "Wow," she whispered.

She stepped forward, her arm outstretched, and slowly stroked the petals of the nearest dozen red roses.  I had gone a little overboard, maybe.  Ten dozen bouquets dotted the room along with a small table covered in a white cloth.

"Wow," she repeated.

"You like them?"

She seemed to be struggling for words. "Yes."

She plucked a rose from the vase and held it to her nose.  Just watching her made me flash forward a few months.  The wedding.

"I think that should be one of our wedding colors," I said. She looked up, slightly panicked.

"What?"

"Red.  It looks great next to your skin.  We should go with red."

"I dunno..." she said slowly. "I--"

The more I looked at her the more I was sure.  She hadn't said anything about colors yet and I knew guys didn't usually help.  So I was going to be a helpful fiance.

"Red," I said with a nod. "That's it."



"Nick, this is amazing, but shouldn't you be down with the guys?"

I waved my hand.  I had lingered more than I should have, but my steak was so good I couldn't leave. Besides, Heath had only eaten half of hers and I was eyeing it like a starving dog.

"I only need a minute to change. I could run out there five seconds after everyone else and be good. I'm the King of procrastinatio n. Besides, I can't think of anywhere else I'd want to be now then sitting up here overlooking Fenway. With you."

A deep blush sprawled across her cheeks. "Thank you," she said softly. I took her hand and ran my thumb over her empty finger.

"Your ring will be here tomorrow," I said. "I know you'll love this one, but if you don't tell me, okay? We're going to give this honesty thing a shot."

She nodded. "O-okay."

I brought her fingers to my lips. They smelled like A1. Slowly, I ran my tongue along the tips.  She gasped.

"Nick..."

"You'd make a nice dessert," I said quietly. "Wanna practice for the honeymoon?"

I drew her pinkie completely into my mouth and sucked.  I had her squirming in her seat now.

"Ooohhhh," she moaned as my teeth grazed the flesh.  I was drawing her in like a stubborn fish. I was--

"Ahem."

I looked up, the tip of her finger still in my mouth. Brian was watching us. That's right. He wasn't just popping his head in. He was standing there gawking.  Probably for minutes.

"We gotta go," he said hurriedly. I noticed he didn't make eye contact with Heather.  As soon as he passed the message along, he turned and fled. Heather pulled her hand back.

"Later?" I asked hopefully.  The only response I got was a mix of a gargle and a hum.

I wasn't sure if I should take it as a yes.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

Nick was like an octopus.

I lay there under him as he worked his magic, as he worded it, staring at the ceiling, my hands over my head on the pillow. His hands were running along my sides, his body writhing against me, and so help me God all I could think about was Brian. I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry…

Brian had taken forever to warm up to me and I thought we were okay that afternoon, playing basketball with Baylee, but when he walked into the freakin’ florist store from hell – alternatively known as dinner with my future husband – he’d seemed to revert back. I wondered if I’d ever get him to forget whatever it was that Chris had told him.

Nick’s mouth was on my thigh.

I wondered what Chris had said to Brian anyways. I mean, it’s not like Chris was some great, all-knowing entity in my life. I’d never really confided my feelings for Brian into Chris. But I guess as my older brother – my real older brother – Chris was entitled to a bit of guesswork and intuition about me. But I’d never realized that Chris knew enough about my crush on Brian to tell him. I also never would’ve thought Chris would betray my confidence on something like that.

Nick’s tongue was working against my flesh in small circles, slowly making his way up the inner thigh towards --

“I wonder what Chris said to Brian,” I said outloud.

Nick’s tongue froze. “Uhhh?” he asked, not withdrawing his tongue to ask what in a normal manner. Spit dripped from his mouth onto my thigh and slid along to the mattress below.

“Brian’s letter,” I said, clarifying, “He said that he’d talked to Chris. I wonder what Chris said to him.”

Nick’s tongue lifted slowly, hesitantly from my thigh. He looked longingly at my bared woman-parts and sighed before sitting up. He wiped his chin with his palm. “I dunno,” he grumbled. “Why’s it matter? You’ve got me.”

“I know,” I said, “I’m just – I’m curious is all. Aren’t you curious?”

Nick’s eyebrow raised. “As a dead pussy cat. Speaking of pussy…” he smirked.

“Nick this isn’t the time.”

He pouted.

“I’m serious. I think whatever Chris said might’ve… you know, damaged my relationship with Brian… and Brian’s one of my best friends, Nick, I just don’t wanna lose that over this.”

Nick sighed. “Heather, it doesn’t matter, okay? He’s Brian, whatever it is, he’ll get over it. Brian always gets over it.”

“What if he doesn’t?” I asked, “What if Brian doesn’t get over this?”

Nick stared at me, studied me, then he finally said, “Jesus, Heath, he’s gonna get over it. It’s not the end of the world.”

I sighed. “Yeah,” I said quietly, “You’re right. Forget it. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah?” Nick asked, he glanced down at my legs. “Are we –“

“Yeah.”

Nick smiled and ducked back down.

But what if it was the end of the world?


----------------------------------------------------------------


Brian

New Jersey.

I sat on the tour bus peering out at Rutherford, wishing the tour was over already. I know that’s terrible, but I was ready to go home. Now that Nick had let the NKOTB guys in on my lesbian wife situation, literally everyone in the entourage couldn’t stop talking about it and a weird hush fell over the room whenever I first walked in – so I knew when they’d all been talking about it the moment before my arrival.

It was the second night we were in Jersey. Heather and Nick had been holed up on Nick’s tour bus – yes Nick’s tour bus, they moved AJ in with me and Howie – and hadn’t been seen hide nor tail for a solid fifteen hours since the show the night before.

It didn’t take a complete idiot to figure out what a couple does for fifteen solid hours on a tour bus, alone.

“Cheer up,” Howie commanded, sitting down across from me. He smiled in that annoyingly happy way Howie has, and winked. Sometimes I can’t tell if Howie means to wink or if he just does out of like some weird tic he’s got or something.

I sighed, “I can’t.”

“At least you told her,” Howie said with a shrug. I’d told Howie and AJ about my letter to Heather and the whole fiasco on the bus when she’d locked herself in the bathroom. “Most people wouldn’t have had the guts to spill that out for her.”

“I know.”

“If she doesn’t want you back then she’s a stupid girl,” Howie added.

AJ, who I hadn’t realized was even listening, poked his head out of the bunk. “I was sure as hell that she felt it back, though, that’s what gets me.”

“You’re sure everyone wants everyone,” Howie argued, “If you were in control of everybody’s emotions, we’d all be one giant orgy.”

AJ grinned. “And your complaint would be…?”

Howie winked.

I’m pretty sure that wink was a tic.

AJ ducked back into his bunk laughing.

Howie looked at me, “My point is you were ballsy, you took a chance, you got shot down but it was a heroic effort. If you hadn’t tried you’d always wonder.”

“All the signs were there,” AJ’s voice floated through the bus from the bunk. “I thought you guys were idiots for not seeing it.”

“At least you tried.”

My head was swimming in all the words they were saying and I glanced out the window again, letting the continued speeches from them wash over me. As I was watching, though, I saw a yellow taxi cab slip into the private parking area behind the venue and roll to a stop by the buses. My interest piqued, and I waited to see who would possibly be arriving via cab.

When she got out of the taxi, I felt blood rush to my face in anger.

“Oh hell no,” I growled, getting up and rushing for the door of the venue. I heard Howie gasp and AJ nearly fall out of his bunk trying to get a look at what had me fired up so quickly.

As soon as my feet hit the pavement of the parking lot, my voice barked out, “What the hell are you doing here?” Lauren looked up. She’d been just about to knock on Nick’s bus door. Shock and surprise registered on her face as I neared her. “Did he call you? Seriously? What the fuck is wrong with him?” My fist hit the door before she could, booming and angry, calling out Nick so I could kill him.

Lauren looked taken aback. She backed a couple paces away. “No,” she said, “He didn’t call me.”

My eyes narrowed.

“He didn’t call me,” she repeated. She looked at the bus door. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Because he didn’t call you?”

Lauren’s bit her lip. “He’s making a mistake,” she blurted out.

“No,” I said, “He’s correcting the mistake he made when he slept with you.”

Lauren shook her head, “She’s not right for him.”

“And I suppose you, his mistress, are?” I demanded.

Lauren looked at her feet. “Brian,” she said quietly, “I know what you think of me and I’m sorry that it happened this way. I know what Heather means to you and –“

“DO YOU?” I snapped, “Do you know what she means to me?”

Lauren’s eyes met mine, “I love him,” she blurted out. “I’m not the kind of girl that goes around falling for guys everyday. In fact, I’m more guy than I am girl in that department. I’ve been perfectly fine with friends with benefits for years, Brian, but I sleep with Nick and it’s like my whole world is—“ she sighed, “I’ve never said I love you to a man before.”

I shook my head, “Yeah, well…”

“Brian,” Lauren’s voice was thick, “I want him to love me instead.”

Lauren, I realized, was in a pickle not that unfamiliar to my own.

The bus door opened and Nick stood before us in boxers that were pulled onto his body crooked, his hair was disheveled. He was bleary eyed. He stood there on the step looking confused for a long moment, his eyes traveling between Lauren and I. Finally he asked, “What’s going on here?”

Lauren looked up at Nick. “Pick me.”

Nick stared down at her, and pain crossed his face. He ran a hand across the back of his neck at his hairline and sucked in a deep breath. He sank to the step, sitting down and covered his eyes with his hand.

I looked at Lauren.

Her face was desperate, her eyes pleading. “Nick,” she said, her voice low, “I know this is crazy, I know it’s stupid even. Hell, it’s something I swore to myself when I was a teenager that I’d never do. I never wanted to be this woman who shows up and does a big romantic plea… but…” she stepped closer, laid her hand on his bare knee. “I’ve never loved someone like I love you, Nick, and it’s not just about the –“ she glanced at me and blushed, but turned back to Nick and said, “—it’s not just about the sex.”

Nick looked up at her.

I could see it in his eyes. He really did love Lauren back.

For a fleeting moment, I imagined Nick jumping up and taking Lauren’s hands and them both hopping into her yellow cab and riding into the sunset, sappy Western style, and me going onto the bus, sweeping Heather off her feet, and riding into the opposite sunset, to live happily ever after. For a moment, I imagined us all getting fairytale endings with lots of gooiness.

“I’m in love with Heather, Lauren,” Nick said quietly. “I love Heather, and I’m engaged to Heather, and I’m gonna marry Heather.” He swallowed. “And I’m going to be faithful to Heather.”

Lauren’s eyes filled with tears. “Nick, please. I –“

“You need to go, Laur,” Nick said quietly. He stood up. “You need to go.” He turned and went onto the bus, closing the door behind him.

Lauren leaned against the bus door and her shoudlers shook as she started to cry.

“C’mere,” I said, cupping my hand on her shoulder gently, “C’mon. I’ll buy you a coffee.”
Chapter 23 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Twenty Three

Nick

"What did she say to you?"

"What did you say to her?"

I was like a rabid dog. I was about ready to put Brian in a strangle hold if he folded one more pair of boxers without answering me.

Which is exactly what he did.

I had been hounding him for three days about Lauren, but he wasn't giving. He either ignored me or said something smartass like 'You told her to go away, why should you care? You're an engaged man.' It was exactly what I had been throwing at him...

Until Leighanne became a lesbian. Paybacks were a bitch.

I lifted my arm, still rank from spending an hour on the treadmill and yanked it around his neck. He staggered back from the collapsible drier, gagging slightly.

"Tell me!" I demanded. His fingers dug at my sweaty arm flesh. Finally, his sneaker kicked back and hit me in the thigh. The sting made me loosen my hold.

"Why do you care?" he snapped.

My jaw tensed. I couldn't even begin to tell him how much I cared. Telling Lauren (to her face, no less) that I loved Heather, the end, had been like torture. I think it would have been easier to be buckled into a stretching rack and just torn limb from limb.

Even another day and a half of dolphin sex hadn't helped. Heather wasn't Lauren. She actually thought about other things during sexy time.

Like what Chris had told Brian. Which as far as I knew, Chris hadn't told Brian anything.

My forged letter had said it all.

"I just wanna know that she's okay," I said quietly. Brian turned around and grabbed another pair of boxers. Whereas I recycled mine if at all possible until they could stand up by themselves, I knew Brian actually changed 'em every day.

Sometimes I wonder how we ended up best friends.

"She's a big girl. Of course she'll be okay," Brian said. His fingers slid down the sides of the boxers, tucking one side, then the other in. He made an absolutely perfect square out of them. I had a feeling he had perfected the technique because he used to be Leighanne's resident shirt-folder. Now I had this mental image of a harem surrounding the queen, mass folding before getting down and dirty.

AJ was so rubbing off on me.

"In fact..." Bri drawled and my heart stalled. "She really is a lovely girl."

My eyes widened. He wasn't even touching me, but all of a sudden I felt like he had a choke hold on me.

"Whatsthatmean?" I asked, my words spilling out over themselves in a jumble.

"Sometimes life has a funny way of working out," he said cryptically. He yanked out a shirt and studied it. All of a sudden, he whipped a Tide white pen from out of his back pocket, stretched the shirt out on a box, and began to press down. My brain snapped. I slapped it out of his hands.

"Stop talking like a Hallmark card!" I yelled. "Don't you even think--"

Bri didn't seem phased. He looked up, his eyes sparkling. And I don't mean their normal sparkle. No, this was some type of half-crazed possessed 'I'm gonna saw you in a half and pig roast you' look.

"Think what?" he asked. Before I could respond, he held up his hand. "No, scratch that." He placed his folded laundry neatly into his basket. "I don't care what you think."

My eyes widened as he hoisted the basket, gave me a punch in the shoulder...

And walked away humming what I thought was 'Quit Playing Games with My Heart.'

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -


Heather

"Holly," Eric said, his voice trembling. "I can't let you do this."

Holly's eyes widened as she clutched the bouquet of red roses to her chest. "Do what?"

"Make the biggest mistake of your life. Eric's hand pressed against her face, his eyes bottomless pools of perfect sapphire. "I have something to tell you."

Holly's heart began to pound. She couldn't imagine that he would actually say it - say the magic words she was dying to hear.

Brian's lips--


"Crap," I muttered. For the fiftieth time I erased Brian's name. Hitting the backspace with a little more gusto than was necessary, I removed the five letters that meant so much and rubbed my eyes. I was at a scene I had been dying to write ever since I had started revising. Absentmindedly, I reached for another Keebler Chocolate Fudge cookie and slid it between my teeth, holding it in place and just letting the cookie part get soggy and fall into my mouth. I had been repeating this pattern for the last two hours. The almost empty package of Fudge Swirls was living proof.

Eric's lips moved closer and Holly thought she would weep, not from the emotion of a bride on her wedding day, but as a little girl whose knight in shining armor would--

"You know, I kinda wish I was that cookie right now."

I let out a shriek and slammed the lid of my computer just as Nick slid his ass onto the table, moving the cookies dangerously close to the edge.

"Did I scare you?" he asked, an impish grin lighting up his face. I took a deep breath, my chest rattling as little unchewed bits of cookies seemed to settle into my lungs. I yanked the unchewed half out of my mouth.

"A little!" I gasped. "I was working."

"Can I read it?" he asked. His foot pressed against my chair and swiveled me slightly back and forth. I flushed.

"It's not done."

"So?"

I couldn't let him read it. Admittedly, I wasn't sure how many 'Nick's' and 'Brian's' still filled the pages that I hadn't caught. I reached out and stroked his hairy knee, my lips curving into a smile. My new ring sparkled back at me. It was a huge improvement over the old, small and simple. Yet, I still didn't love it (but I didn't want to delve into the why). "I need a break," I said. Nick's eyes lit up. "Well, in that case--"

"HEATHER!"

My hand fell from Nick's leg and I caught Baylee just as he ran right into me. My chair rolled back a few inches.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Dad wantsta talk to you!" he said breathlessly.

"About what?" Nick asked suspiciously.

"Dunno!" Baylee chirped.

Nick's eyes narrowed. "Well, tell your dad--"

"Oh yeah!" he cried. He pulled the waistband of his basketball shorts (Baylee was quickly adopted the same fashion sense as his dad - Brian was back to his mismatched golf shorts and t-shirts) and pulled out a box. "Wanna play?"

It took a couple seconds for me to see the box as Baylee waved it back and forth, but when I did I knew that it was a distraction ploy. Nick's face grew excited as he yanked the still-sealed package out of Baylee's hand.

"Duke Nuke'em Forever," he whispered breathlessly.

"Dad just bought it for me and he said to ask you if you wanna play," Baylee said sweetly.

Nick's fingernail was already working at the wrapping. "Get the 360 turned on," he said. "I'll show you how it's done."

The two boys (because really, that's what Nick had suddenly become), raced back into the living quarters. I flipped my laptop back on just to save my Word Document and shut the PC down correctly. I thought about the scene that I had just been about to write and I wondered...

What did Brian want to talk to me about?

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -


Brian

“Baylee, go get Aunt Heather for me.”

Daaa-aad, c’mon I’m winning.”

I was not unprepared for this argument. I waved Duke’em Nuke’em in his face. “I’m pretty sure Uncle Nick has a 360 on his bus.”

My kid was all but salivating.

I was so excited. I checked my cell phone like twelve times for messages, to make sure nothing was being cancelled and I adjusted the flowers that I’d bought for her that morning when Larry had first emailed me back. I felt like I was on cloud freaking nine. I was ready to putz I was so excited.

See, this was something I’d had in the works for a very… very long time.

Heather inched onto the bus looking scared and confused. “Brian?” she called tentatively.

“You came!” I turned. I could feel the blood rush to my face when I saw her. She looked amazing - as always, but extra this time. She had on little pink sweatpants and a tank top and her hair in this kinda floopy, loopy pile that was half falling out of the knot she’d tied it in. “You look great,” I said.

She glanced down and gave me a seriously? look.

“I need to talk to you.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “You do?”

“Yes,” I said. I stepped forward quickly and snapped her hand into my own. “Heather, it’s about your story.”

“My – my story?” she asked.

“Yeah, the novel you’ve been writing forever?”

She stared at me, alarm on her face. “Brian,” she said, “I –“

“I told my friend Larry about it,” I blurted out.

“What?” Heather blinked in surprise, confused surprise. “Who?”

“Larry,” I said, “Larry works at Anchor Books.”

“The publisher?” she stammered.

“Yeah.” I guided her to the table and set her down. “I told him about your story, kiddo, the one about Bruce and Holly and I told him how you’ve been trying to get it published, and that you’re working on revising it and he thought it sounded really interesting and he wants to look at it.”

Heather stared at me, wildly.

“Do you have a copy of what you have so far by any chance?” I asked.

“He wants to read it?”

“Yes! He wants to publish it, actually.”

She stared at me, incredulous. “Brian I –“

“I’m so happy for you kiddo,” I trilled.

Heather grabbed my hands. “Are you serious?”

I grinned, bending low to look her right in the eyes. “Heather, I’m so serious right now.”

“Oh my God,” she whispered. “Oh my God. I have to go get the manuscript-I - the – oh my God.” She stood up. “Oh my God.”

I grinned, “Congrats, baby.” The moment the words had tumbled out of my mouth, I froze.

Heather stared at me. “What?”

“Congrats, k-kiddo,” I whispered.

Our faces were nearly touching. I was leaning over her at the table, my heart thumping in my chest. I stared down at her, she stared up at me. Did I dare to even try to kiss her? I hovered. Waiting… wishing… Before she pulled away, ducking her face to the side and slipping away from me.

“I gotta get the manuscript,” she said and she disappeared out the door.
Chapter 24 by Pengi
Chapter Twenty Four

Nick

"I've wanted to play this forever but mom wouldn't get it for me cause it's too violent," Baylee announced.

We were sitting side-by-side, our tongues jutting out of the corner of our mouths, eyes glued to the screen.

Best. Day. Ever.

"Duke Nuke'Em was the best video game ever invented. Every kid should get to play it," I declared. Baylee laughed.

"Dad calls it Duke'Em Nuke'Em."

"Your dad's a...." I tried to find the right word for EVERYTHING I felt about Brian Littrell at the moment. "Pickleweasel." "That's not a word!" Bay cried. I didn't turn to look at him (I was in concentration mode), but I could tell he loved it.

"Well, that's what he is," I declared. "a big flaccid---"

"Oh my God, Oh my God!"

Heather burst in, and I couldn't help but look up. Her ponytail was totally messed up and her face was pink.

"Did you talk to dad?" Baylee asked.

Heather was already on the move. She was headed towards her computer.

"Bay, I love your dad!"

"Really?" Bay totally stopped playing. I heard the printer roar to life as I killed a dirty ray bastard on the screen. I bet if he had a name, it would be Brian.

"Yes, I do!" Heather giggled. "Your dad's gonna get my book published."

"But you love him?"

"I do." Heather's voice was soft and gentle. I almost pulled away from the game until she added -- "like a brother."

"Oh," Bay said. He turned back to the screen. "My mom loves Heather too..."

"But not like a sister."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------


Heather

I onl y had a measly 120 page, but it seemed to take forever to print. I paced with energy that I hadn’t realized I had, prancing even, back and forth behind Nick and Baylee. Noises of pure electronic violence emanated from the TV, punctured by Nick’s occasional ’take that you baaaastard’ hisses and Baylee’s giggles because, well, he was at that age when bad words were so cool.

I moved from foot to foot in front of the printer.

“I dunno why the hell you’re so nervous for,” Nick tossed over his shoulder, without looking, “You’ve done this like eight ba-tril-zillion times.”

“But this time the publisher’s coming to look at the manuscript like in person,” I gushed.

“So he can reject it to your face instead of in one of those stupid letters you always cry over at the mailbox.” Nick actually paused the game and turned around. Baylee was scowling because they’d be interrupted. Nick crawled to his feet and came over by me. “I’m not trying to be a sourpuss, I just –“

I ran my fingers over the pages that were already printed. I stared down at the black text on white paper, though the words were blurry through tears, and sucked in my breath. “It’s different this time,” I said with a shrug, “I’m revising it.”

“I’d comfort you, but I haven’t even seen it to tell you if its good or not,” Nick said with a shrug. He paused. “Brian set this up for you?”

“Yeah.”

“Did Brian read the manuscript?”

“No,” I said.

“Oh.” Nick looked relieved. “You didn’t cut out that one sex scene you showed me before right?”

I’d let Nick read the original manuscript and he’d skipped all the story parts and gone right for a sex scene because the word erection had caught his attention. He’d then proceeded to tease me for all the girly euphemisms that I’d filled the page with.

I hadn’t actually cut the scene. But I had severely revised it.

For starters, it was now between Eric and Holly.

So mentioning it made me turn scarlet.

Nick smirked and leaned into my ear so that Baylee couldn’t hear him. “I love it when you blush when we talk about sex,” he hissed, “It makes me wanna rip all your clothes off and do you right here, against the printer.”

“That would be awkward,” I said.

Nick pulled away, thinking I was joking, and kissed the back of my head. “I get to read this hoo-ha if you get published, right?” he asked, waving at the pages as the last couple of them slipped out of the printer.

“Yeah,” I agreed only because I didn’t want a discussion. I’d cross that bridge when I got to it. I quickly scooped up the pages and started to bolt for the door.

Nick cleared his throat. “Where do you think you’re going in such a rush?” he asked.

I stopped and turned to look at him.

Nick had his lips puckered grotesquely. He’d never had a very good pucker. It looked more like a deformed fish face, or an attempt at making a duck bill than a pucker. I went over and planted a kiss on the ugly pucker and then bolted for the door. Over my shoulder I heard Baylee declare, “Can we please get back to Duke Nuke’em now?”

“I hadda kiss my woman, if you don’t mind,” Nick responded.

“You’re weirder than my dad,” Baylee said.


------------------------------------------------------------------------


Brian

Larry loved it. He flipped through it just enough to get a rough idea of what he was dealing with and told Heather he’d like to see the manuscript in its finished form by October 28th. “That’s the day I get married,” Heather had laughed.

When Larry left, Heather was practically dancing. I felt good because I’d done a good thing, but I also felt bad because she was hugging me and kissing my cheek and ruffling my hair and doing all kinds of nice things. And then she’d run off to tell Nick.

I sat in my seat at the table feeling flabbergasted.

After the dust settled, I sighed and stood up. Baylee would be preoccupied with Nick for awhile, I figured I might as well get some sleep while the bus was void of children in need of parental attention. I was on my way to the bunks, when I realized something that made me stop in my tracks. I backed up and looked at the table.

Larry left Heather’s manuscript.

I stared at it.

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my cell phone and had all but one number of Heather’s cell number dialed before I stopped and closed the phone. The right thing to do was call Heather. The right thing to do was bring the manuscript home to its rightful owner.
The right thing to do was to not pick it up, carry it to my bunk, and start reading it.

The story started out strong with the lead female character, Holly, being cheated on by her good-for-nothing boyfriend. I scowled as I skipped over a sex scene between Holly and Bryce. Dude didn’t deserve the time of day, I thought ,why on earth is she sleeping with him? And then came the twist in the plot. Eric. The guy that Holly had been in love with since high school. Eric who had a fetish for fried pickles and chicken sandwiches.

Eric, the guy who sounded awful familiar.

Suddenly, a bubble caught in my throat as I reached the date scene.

An arcade. Whack-a-mole.

Heather hadn’t been on a date with me the night I fell in love with her. Heather had been on a date getting material to use in a character. I suddenly flashed back ,remembered her scribbling notes furiously on her napkin at the restaurant, and the way she watched me walk when I was in the arcade.

I’d convinced myself that, even though Heather read my note and didn’t love me back, at least the date in Kentucky had been real. At least I’d had that much with the woman of my dreams.

But Heather hadn’t been interested in me even then.

All she’d wanted was notes for writing Eric.
Chapter 25 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Twenty-Five

Nick

"C'mon Heath," I begged. "It's Independence Day. What better way to celebrate than in Las Vegas in front of a slot machine? Didn't I work my butt off last night at the show? C'mon..."

Admittedly, I felt a little like Baylee. I was tugging on the bottom of her lacy tank top and backing away slightly so that it stretched away from her body before letting it go and watching it snap back. Of course, unlike Baylee I was fully aware of the skin show I was creating.

It seemed to be a struggle for Heather to turn her eyes away from the screen. "I can't," she said, her forehead creased. "I just got revisions back for the first half of the story and I want to edit those and send them back. Then I have to work on the--"

"Yanno what my favorite part of a book is?" I asked. I wasn't going to tell her I had only learned this definition the other day on my handy-dandy GED Quick! IPad app. "the climax."

She laughed. I wasn't sure if it was because I was giving her my big love me eyes or if it was because she assumed I only knew the sexy meaning of the word.

"Nick, honey, I promise. You go play the slots for a few hours and by that time I can break for dinner. Besides, I have a dress fitting and you can't be here."

"I can help you with the dress fitting," I said with a grin. Heath closed the lid of her laptop, rolling her baby blues.

"It's bad luck to see me in the dress before the wedding."

"I don't believe in superstition. I say you wiggle into that dress, we break out the Ouija board and have fun."

She propped her chin in her hand, shaking her head just slightly. "Bye Nick."

I pouted. Yes, I was thirty-one, but damnit, I could still pout. "What time can I come back?"

"Five? Ish?"

"Five-ish," I repeated. "Got it. If I don't return it's cause I died of a broken heart that you wouldn't play the cherry slots with me."

"If you don't return it's because you beat the machine up for taking all your money and you're in jail," she teased. I swooped in, my lips puckered to their full sexy-tude and kissed her softly. "Love ya."

"Back atcha," she said.

She was typing away again before I even closed the door.



"I should not be here," I muttered under my breath two hours later, my eyes glued to the stage.

Let me rewind. I might not be superstitious, but I do believe in the power of coincidence. I had managed to get down to the casino floor and I was doing fairly well at the roulette wheel when the guy next to me started jabbering about some women's fitness competition.

"Bikinis," he said, his teeth clattering against the short shot glass he pressed to his lips. "Toned chicks in bikinis."

If he had left it at that, I would have been fine. But he hadn't.

"I just peeked in on round one and I gotta tell ya, I'm pretty sure the Lauren Kitt chick is gonna win."

I had ordered a Cherry Coke (light on the coke, heavy on the grenadine syrup, thank you) and was mid-sip when her name came out. I choked, the liquid flying down into my lungs instead of my gut. The red and black on the roulette wheel whirled together oddly as my vision blured. Mr. Chatty Cathy pounded me on the back.

"All right there son?"

The cigar smoke fell heavily all around me as I struggled to breathe. "Did...did you say Lauren Kitt?" I asked.

The guy nodded. "Yup. Waddya say you and me go check her out? I'm bust."

I wasn't bust, but I knew if I kept playing now I would be shortly. I scooped up my chips and shoved them in my pockets. The weight of them caused my jeans to sag. "I'll just take a quick peek..." I said.

I figured I could catch a glimpse of her and get out without her knowing I was there. There'd be no harm. No foul.

No cheating.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

Eric's tongue ran slowly along the inside of her thigh and Holly shivered in wicked delight. This was how it was supposed to be. Just her and Brian. Alo--"

"ARGH!"

I had done it again. Several of my revisions on the first half of my draft had been name flubs. Now I was beginning to work away on the end of the story and the same thing kept happening.

I was never going to get him out of my head.

My fingers were flying and my mind was chanting 'don't type Brian' over and over again when I heard the knock on the door. My stomach flip-flopped as I saved my work, closed the laptop, and padded barefoot over to the door.

A large pink garment bag swung directly in front of me. A round pixish looking face swung around it. The woman smiled.

"Heather Johnson?"

I nodded and took a step back. "That's me. Come in."

The seamstress, Joann, had come from Kentucky for this moment. It was my first fitting. I hadn't gone with my dream dress: my heart hadn't been in it. Instead, I had gone with a Vera Wang, a brand new design from the current line. It was strapless, showed way more skin than I wanted, and had a dipping back that barely allowed me to wear underwear.

And for some reason, my mom loved it. I was pretty sure she had been tipping away more than her fair share of the brandy she hid behind the flour in the pantry lately.

A half-hour later, Joann was chatting my ear off and assisting me into the dress. I wobbled unsteadily in the heels Nick had bought for me, the fear of actually having to walk in them coursing through my mind.

"Women would kill for a figure like yours," Joann sighed. "Curves in all the right places. I've seen pictures of you and Nick. My, oh my is he good to look at.

It was mean-spirited, but I thought of his pucker face...and the way he overly slobbered over my thighs. I knew girls would chop off their arms and legs to be in my shoes...

But my shoes were Converse, not heels. I was cotton undies, not thongs...

"Oh honey, this dress is worth crying over," Joann said gently. With one finally yank, she turned me towards the mirror.

There was no denying that I looked pretty - what bride didn't look pretty on their wedding day? But it wasn't what I was crying about.

"All we need to work on is the hem," Joann said happily. She let out a soft whistle. "Girl, as if he didn't love you before, he's going to take one look at you in this dress and fall head over he--"

"He-hello?"

Brian. For the last couple weeks, our paths hadn't crossed much. And when they did, there was something stand-offish that I couldn't put my finger on. Of course, I chalked it up to my overworked brain. Overworked brain or not, I was happy (and surprised) to hear his voice in the doorway. I whirled around, forgetting that I had about ten pounds of heavy silk floating around my legs. My heel got caught on the underskirting and I screamed, my hands shooting out in reflex as my body began to move towards the floor.

I was going down.
- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Brian

It was like a cross between the felling of a tree and a feather dropping out of an angel’s wing. Pouf, lace, satin and that sheer frilly stuff veils are made out of came flying at me. A squeal from somewhere deep in the white cloud was the only indication that a bolt of cloth hadn’t been thrown at me from across the room. I reached out my arms in instinct, and moved forward, intercepting her before she hit the floor and ate carpet.

I stood there, hugging a bride to my chest.

Her gown left very little to the imagination. I caught my eyes trickling low enough to see her cleavage before I reverted them and looked straight ahead. Wow.

“Heather,” I said.

“Brian,” she answered, breathless.

“Excited for the fall are we?” I asked, righting her like she was a Precious Moments figurine that just needed straightening. I pet her head softly, and took a step back.

She blinked at me, and I wasn’t sure she got the joke.

“I wasn’t trying to fall,” she said, “It’s the damn heels.” And just like that, she kicked them off and I saw $2,500 shoes hit the wall. Heather scowled, “I hate high heels.”

I laughed. “I’ve never seen you in heels. I feel like I missed the show.”

“You saw all of it,” she said, “I didn’t even get two feet in them.”

I smirked. “You got two feet in them,” I pointed at her feet.

She looked up at me. “You’re a funny man today, are you? Funny man?”

I laughed. “I’m always a funny man. Don’t pretend you didn’t notice.”

“You know, I always worried you’d eventually grow out of your funny,” she smiled, “Do you know how relieved I am to know that it’s still alive in there?”

“The funny is a part of the Brian,” I said, “You can’t take it out. It’s like the country in me. You can take the Brian out of the funny, but you can’t take the funny out of the Brian.”

Heather laughed. But even as the musical sound escaped her mouth, her eyes sobered and she raised an eyebrow. “Where’ve you been anyways?” she asked, “You’ve been scarce lately.”

I cleared my throat. “Yeah,” I said, “Scarce.” I rubbed my palms against my jeans. “I just…” Honestly, what I’d come a’knockin’ for was the awkward topic of why she’d chosen meto be in her story as the heroine’s lover. I wondered if she was somehow mocking me for telling her I loved her.

“Heather,” I said slowly, about to delve into my topic. And then a thought occurred to me. “Is Nick here?”

“Nick?” Heather laughed, “No, he’s out playing cherry slots.”

Yeah I’m sure.

“Oh. Good.”

“Good?” Heather laughed, “What? Are you avoiding him?”

I thought quick. Luckily. “I’m just … sick of hearing about all my duties as a best man.”

Heather laughed. “As long as you don’t have Lauren Kitt stripping at the bachelor party, I’m happy.”

I laughed.

Only kind of. Nick had jokingly said it. Jokingly. Then he’d quickly taken it back when I almost ripped his face off with my bare hands. Unfortunately for Nick, I wasn’t good at taking jokes. Especially when I felt inclined to do that weird bunny ears quotation marks thing when I said the word jokes.

“Are you getting- er- excited?” I asked. I picked up her veil and studied it as she scooped up the lacey skirts and started towards the back of the bus.

“Sure,” she answered.

I put the veil on my head. “How do I look?”

Heather looked over her shoulder at me. “Going the way of the rainbow like Leighanne did, huh?” she asked, smirking.

“HAW,” I faked the guffaw. “Funny. Funny.”

Heather giggled. “I’m glad you’re ready to joke about it.”

I wasn’t. Not really.

But it was Heather. She could get away with pretty much anything.

“So… why are you here again?” she asked.

I cleared my throat, “Well, kiddo, I was wondering if you –“

A petite Asian woman buzzed by me with a tape measurer in her mouth. She tugged and hawed until Heather had reached down and pulled the gown over her head. And there she stood in a silk slip, a hot-pink bra with black polka dots clearly tellable through the thin silk. I could see her bellybutton. I felt hypnotized.

“Brian?”

My mouth wasn’t working.

“Brian?”

I looked up at her face. “The night with the whack-a-mole,” I said.

Heather stared at me. “Yeah?”

“On the porch.”

She blushed.

“If Nick hadn’t interrupted us –“

But like clockwork, like magic… like we’d summonsed him… the bus door banged open and Nick burst in.

With a bloody nose.

He stared wildly at Heather. “Before you see the photos,” he gasped, “I can explain.”

I looked at Heather.

Well then. So much for that conversation.
Chapter 26 by Pengi
Chapter Twenty Six

Nick

The moment Laur walked out on stage, her hands pressed into her well toned sides, just above those slender hips that I loved to gnaw on like a dog with a steak bone, I was a man possessed. My most favorite parts of Lauren Kitt were covered only by the tiniest scraps of royal blue material. She kinda looked like Kate Middleton with that color blue on...

And I, taking the role of Prince Wills, wanted to bag the princess.

I pulled away from the old guys and sauntered closer to the front. Just as Lauren turned to leave the stage, I finger whistled.

Yeah, that's right. My intentions of staying hidden kinda left with the emergence of the bikini. I cleared my throat.

"Laur, baby!"

Lauren turned, but that's the last thing I saw. Suddenly I had a guy that looked a lot like those fat guards from Aladdin in my face. And I didn't have a monkey like Abu to tweak his nose. My monkey was still thinking of Lauren.

"That's my girlfriend!" he growled.

And that was a second before he punched me in the face.

When I awoke, I had Lauren's boobs floating over my head.

"I've died," I whispered. I yelled as an ice pack hit my nose.

"Why are you here?" she whispered. "To..." I trailed off. To sweep you off your feet? To get you in a hotel room and make love to you for three days straight? To actually be man enough to let my best friend have what I don't want him to have cause I don't like to lose?

No.

"To say hello," I said stupidly. I hear an audible sigh. The ice pack was lifted and Lauren's pretty eyes glistened down at me.

"Hi," she whispered. Her lips lowered to mine. My body jerked in the hard cot I found myself on. I almost shimmered as she pulled away. She handed me the ice pack. "and goodbye. Because I love you."



Even as I stood there in front of Heather, heart racing, those words kept coming back. Goodbye. Because I love you.

"What happened?" Heath cried. She ran over and I swear she shiver her finger up my nose on purpose. I yelped.

I hadn't known it at the time, but bumping into AJ had alerted me that TMZ had been roaming around. I needed to be better safe than sorry.

"This old dude at the roulette table pulled me away to go check something out. It turns out it was a woman's body pageant thingy. Babe, I swear I didn't know, but Lauren was there."

Heather's eyes narrowed and Brian (what the hell was he doing there?) looked murderous. "As soon as I saw her I turned to leave. The old dude got mad and punched me out. Turns out it was her dad," I rambled. I took a good look at Heath. "Why are you almost naked?"

Bri's face turned tomato red. Heather scowled. "My dress fitting?"

"Why's he here then?"

Something in Heather's pretty head snapped. "He can be here if he wants! Unlike you, who it seems runs into Lauren f-f-friggin Kitt everywhere!"

I scowled. Bri was now gawking at her ass through the slip. "You should put on--"

"Clothes?" Heather finished. I'm pretty sure even the blood stopped dripping out of my nose when she yanked off the slip. "He's seen me naked before. And who cares? I bet Lauren wasn't even wearing this much when you saw her."

My fiancé had lost it. By the way Bri's hands were quickly covering the front of his jeans, something told me he hadn't seen her naked since she was like five. I glared at him and grabbed her hands just as they snaked around to get her bra clasp.

"Don't touch her!" Brian yelled.

I froze.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

Brian had always been a breast man.

This is a fact about Brian that I forgot as my fingers went to the clasps of my bra and started unhooking, my angry eyes shooting bullet trajectories through Nick’s colon.

Nick’s hands caught my wrists.

“DON’T TOUCH HER!”

We both looked at Brian.

He was scarlet red. He cleared his throat. “She doesn’t need your cheating hands on her. You’re a sick ba—“

“Brian!” Nick yelped, “I swear to God I didn’t know whats-her-face was there.” Nick fixed his friend with a heavy, syrupy stare. “I swear it.”

“She just happened to be competing in a bathing suit whatever thing the same weekend you’re here. That’s such a coincidence,” I snapped.

Nick looked at me, fixing that same stare on me. “Heather, it is a coincidence. It’s not like I made the schedule!” Nick’s hands lowered slowly onto my arms. “Now, please, baby, let’s put your clothes back on you so you aren’t freaking out poor Brian here.”

Brian’s eyes diverted. “Forget it, I’m leaving anyways.”

“Brian you were gonna ask me a ques—“

“Forget it.”

When the door had slammed behind Brian, I looked at Nick. “You can take the bra off now if you wanna…” he drawled, grinning.

I glared at him and stormed away, slamming the door between the bunks and the back sitting area. I threw myself down onto the chair in front of my computer and stared at the glowing screen wearing nothing but my bra and underwear.

Holly wanted nothing more in that moment than to jump Eric, I typed, But with Bryce right there, she could do nothing but dream.


----------------------------------------------


Brian

Heather. Had. Breasts.

Okay so I know female anatomy. I know, I get it. And sure I knew Heather had grown up since we were yea high. Plus, let’s face it, I’ve seen breasts. I know from the front of her shirt and her dresses and that nice cleavage shot I got before that she hadbreasts. In theory.

There’s something completely different about breasts when they’re only a thin, mostly sheer layer of fabric away from you. Grinning at you. Ready to be attacked by you.

And what the hell was up with Carter? When had he ever turned down a free strip show? That was so unlike him.

All in all, even as I stumbled off the bus, I knew there were questions that still needed to be answered. So, I decided, why not go to the source?

When the hotel room door opened twenty minutes later – after some very savvy sleuthing on my part – Lauren looked surprised to see me standing in front of her. “Brian?” she asked, eyes puckering in surprise, “What are you doing h—“

“Did you sleep with Nick? “ I asked, cutting to the chase.

Lauren looked surprised, “When?”

“Today.”

Lauren shook her head. “I hardly see where this is your business, Brian.”

“I need to know, Lauren,” I said.

She stared at me, clearly trying to decide if she wanted to stare me down or not. I held my gaze steady. There was a long pause, and finally she sighed and looked away. “No,” she said, “I didn’t. Not tonight.”

“When?” I demanded.

Lauren laughed, “Brian, I-“

“I need to know, Lauren.”

She sighed. “Before. Before the fight. Before we talked.” She stared at me. “Brian, I know about Heather. I’m not gonna break them up again today. What happened today with Reef…”

“Reef?”

“My boyfriend?” she asked. I must’ve looked mystified because she followed up with, “The guy that punched Nick.”

“Nick said it was your dad.”

Lauren snorted. “Please. My father has never been that passionate about anything to actually fight for it. Least of all me.” She shook her head and turned into the hotel room. I took a quick glance side-to-side before stepping in and closing the door behind me. She was back-to me a few feet away. After a long pause, she turned around ,her back against the table behind her. “That’s how Nick and I met, you know.”

I stared at her.

Lauren laughed quietly. “I’m sorry. You don’t wanna know that.”

I looked at my shoes. I kind of did. I looked up at her. “Tell me.”

Lauren paused, looking me over as though she was sizing me up, trying to see if I could take what she was about to tell me. I apparently passed the visual test because she said, “I was crying. You know Nick, always the hero. I was backstage between shoots, and Nick was eating a popsicle and he came over and it was dripping all over him and he asked what was the matter and I told him my dad was a fucker and Nick told me his dad was too, then offered me part of his already-mostly-licked popsicle and then…” her voice trailed off.

“Then all the sex,” I supplied.

“Yeah. Then all the sex,” Lauren laughed.

“Nick’s a good guy when he focuses his energy on that,” Lauren said slowly, “He just doesn’t, usually.” She sighed. “I know I don’t deserve him, Brian,” she said, “But I’ve never wanted someone like I want him. And it’s not just because of the sex. It’s because –“

“Because?”

“Because he makes me feel better. He takes these things I think about myself, that I’ve always been told about myself, and he turns them around, he makes me feel better. He believes in me. I know I don’t deserve him because I stole him, and I shouldn’t win in the end. Heather should win, Heather should get the amazing man Nick is,” Lauren frowned sadly, with resignation, “Heather didn’t deserve the jackass stuff Nick’s done to her. Heather deserves the Nick he’s been to me. The Nick I fell in love with.”
Chapter 27 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Twenty Seven

Nick

Have you ever seen those Energizer bunny commercials? I'm sure you have. The little pink rabbit goes around beating on his drum, outlasting all the other lameass batteries. No one can ever stop that damn rabbit and his drum, drum, drumming.

Well, I wasn't exactly on a first name basis with the little pink guy, but it felt as if he had crawled up my nose and had started to test his longevity inside my nose.

It wasn't often that I was the one that got beat up. I had let my guard down because of Lauren's little blue bikini.

And I hadn't been lying to Heather. I hadn't known Laur was going to be there. But Heather had gone crazy trying to strip and then she turned me away when I had suggested a little bit of booty. It wasn't fair. What else was I supposed to think with her in that little polka dotted bra? But Heather had continued to steam and announced that I could stay in the bus while she got a hotel room. And because of my banishment, I had roamed around the lobby thinking about the hulk of the guy that had pummeled my nose. The guy that was Lauren's...

Boyfriend.

The thought made my stomach churn. He was an ape. The thought of him crawling all over her...well, it made me sick.

It didn't help that I was sulking in the hotel restaurant when he came in. I caught a flash of dark hair and knew she was with him. I shielded my face and stabbed at my bowl of noodles.

"I don't have much time, but if you show me what you've got after dinner and it's any good, I can guarantee you that you'll end up in the top three."

"I'll, like, lick it like a pickle!"

The laugh the woman let out sounded a lot like Fran Drescher from The Nanny. My head snapped up.

It wasn't Lauren.

Ape man's hands were on the brunette's ass, running circles over each unattractive bun. When she turned, I saw the sharp bridge of her nose and the closeness of her eyes.

My first thought was: how did I ever think this unperfect...thing was Lauren?

My second thought was: the bastard's cheating on her already.

The bridge of my nose was practically vibrating from the pain it felt. It wasn't broken, but the swelling made me look a little like Owen Wilson. Kinda. But at the moment, my anger lessened the pain. I shot up from my table. Without thinking, I grabbed the asshole's beefy arm.

"You fucking prick," I hissed. The ape turned slowly, caught off guard. When he saw me he let out a sneer.

"You," he said, almost laughing.

"She deserves better," I said, my voice taking on a hard edge. The girl tugged on Mr. Meaty's arm, but he ignored her. He eyed me up, studying his handwork for an extra second.

"I've seen pictures of you and your girlie," he said, his sneer growing. "Look who's calling the kettle black. From one pussy hopper to another, you didn't see anything. Got it?"

My teeth ground together. I thought back to Lauren, crying over her prick of a father before one of my first solo shows in Japan. I had been nibbling on a popsicle (cherry) and had wanted so bad to cheer her up. When I found out her family life sucked as bad as mine did, somehow I had felt closer to her than I had to anyone in my entire life. After that the sex had kinda blown everything up to mythical proportions, but we clicked. We truly clicked. And, as crazy as it sounded, it seemed natural to want to protect her. I couldn't cheer her up; hell, she didn't want me near her, but I knew I could still protect her vicariously. I nodded.

"Got it," I mumbled. Before the guy turned back around, my fist connected with his face.

The Fran Drescher sound alike began screeching as all two hundred some pounds of dumbass fell to the ground. I smashed my foot into his gut and let him have another one. I was about ready to go for a third blow when he grabbed my ankle and my body flew out from under me.

"NICK!"

A pair of slender hands grabbed at me. I managed to get another kick into stupid's side before scuttling backwards. Lauren's surprised face looked down at me. She motioned to the door.

"C'mon, before you get arrested."



"You shouldn't have done that."

"He was cheating on you."

"Aren't all men cheaters?"

I stared up at the night sky. Lauren's hotel room was small, but cozy. We were on the tiny ass balcony watching the beginning of the fireworks show. The breeze kept picking up little strands of her hair and whipping them to and fro.

"My situation's complicated."

"More than you know."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

She twirled her glass of wine between her fingers. Her head turned slowly. "It's so easy to see," she whispered. "Why can't you guys figure it out?"

I set my glass down, my stomach rolling. "I don't under--"

"I know you don't. And damnit Nick, I hate to say it, but you're a douche."

"A douche?"

Lauren's eyes fluttered closed. "I keep running from you and yet we keep meeting. This country's too big for this to keep happening."

I sighed. The sparks of red, blue, and green in the sky were reflected in the large lake below. "My gut tells me this is the last time I'm going to see you before my wedding."

"Nick, don't you think you're making a mistake?"

"I'm the only guy in the group who isn't married. I'm thirty. I need to grow up. Heather will be a good wife. It might be good that we don't make fireworks in bed. I mean, when I'm old and wrinkly and she's old and wrinkly it's not like we're going to get busy that much anyway. I need someone who knows how to make dinner and can remind me to call and wish people Happy Birthday and--"

"A maid can cook you dinner, a PDA can remind you to wish people Happy Birthday," Lauren whispered. Her voice shook. She stood up and for a second I thought she was going to leave me outside alone, the thundering display above my only company. Instead she stood in front of me, leaning down so her hands wrapped around my shoulders.

"Nick, I'm leaving tomorrow and I'm not gonna tell you where. But it's not going to be in the country."

I reached out and wrapped my hands around her waist. "So I'm not going to run into--"

"No."

She looked up at the sky and I saw the tears in her eyes. "I'm already going to hell," she whispered.

"You're not going to he--"

Before I could finish, she let her body fold into my lap. Her hands slid up along my neck, tickling my sensitive spot behind my ears. I couldn't help myself; I cupped her face and draw her to me. The sweetness of her lips mixed with the saltiness of her tears.

"Let me stay with you," I whispered as I pulled away, my thumbs flicking over the wetness. Her forehead pressed to mine.

"It really is the end of forever," she whispered. She kissed me again slowly. "But, yes. I need you. Just one more night."

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

I'm not sure which bottle from the mini fridge pushed me over the edge from slightly tipsy to full on drunk, but my guess is number seven or eight. The text on my computer screen blurred so bad that my steamiest love scene yet looked more like a barcode than English. I giggled as I lowered the lid, just as quickly sighing dramatically.

I had kicked Nick out. Him suggesting we get naked so he could slobber all over me was the last straw. I felt like a little kid again, continuously losing to Chris at Candy Land. He never let me win. The only one who did was Brian.

But now that we were grown up he wasn't letting me win anymore. And just like I used to do with Chris, I was pouting. Except now I was pouting with alcohol.

"This is a great big HOW-DE-DOO," I said to the blank wall. I was wrapped in one of the hotel's soft white bathrobes and I felt deliciously naughty writing my love scenes with nothing underneath. I had given up trying to correct each time I wrote 'Brian,' opting instead to do a Find and Replace at the end. Like, when I was sober.

For the first time in...well, a long time, I was actually turned on the point of wanting a little loving. I thought about going down to the bus and making up with Nick, but that thought instantly turned my sexy off.

I grabbed onto the desk as I wobbled to my feet. The room spun deliciously and I laughed, finding it incredibly funny. I staggered into the bathroom, studying my flushed face.

"You are a mess," I said pointing to my reflection. " You don't love Nick Carter. Do you? Well, do ya?"

For a second, I swear my reflection shook its head no. I snorted.

"Y'know what I'm gonna do? Well do ya?"

This time my reflection shrugged its shoulders.

"I'mma gonna call off the wedding," I slurred. My hand slipped from the sink and I barely caught myself. I eased back towards the mirror. "I'mma gonna join E- Harmony...and. ..and...meet someone."

My reflection didn't answer this time and I hiccuped. I slapped at my hair.

"Maybe Brian will join E-Harmony too. And maybe we'll be matched. Maybe he won't reject me if someone else tells him we're good for each other. Maybe--" I trailed off, my mouth forming an O. I gasped. My reflection was grinning at me.

"Noooo..." I said. I giggled again. In my mind, my reflection was talking to me.

You should go to him and MAKE him kiss you. TONIGHT.

"I can't do that. That's...naughty."

What's the worst that can happen? He can reject you in a letter...but nude? He IS a man. A man that probably hasn't gotten any for MONTHS.

"But he said it hisssssself," I declared. "We're just friends."

Friends can benefit from a little something EXTRA...

I pressed a palm to my flaming face. My heart was pounding. "Yeah..." I whispered. "Yeah."



It's amazing what kind of information a woman clad only in a bathrobe can get when she walks down to the front desk that way. Fifteen minutes later I was standing in front of his door. I could hear the 'boom boom boom' of the fireworks show just beginning. I knelt down and ran my hand along my leg to check that it was still smooth. Without feeling stubble, I kinda fell against the door before straightening up and knocking.

I was just about to knock again when the door open. Bri's face peered out from the safety chain. His hair was askew. He had been sleeping. That was pretty sad considering it was only eight o'clock.

"Heath?" he whispered groggily. He rubbed at his eyes. "Heath?"

"Can I come in?" I asked in what I hoped was a sultry voice.

"Is everything okay?" he asked. I heard him fiddle with the safety chain. A second later the door opened wider. I shuffled inside. He closed the door behind him. Through his balcony window I could see a breath-taking display of red, blue, and green light up the night sky.

"Y'know how I used to want to play Monopoly with you when I was little?" I asked. Bri's hand splayed across his bare stomach. I could see the hint of soft blonde hair dipping down into the waistband of his boxers. My mouth watered. Lauren seemed to borrow Nick without feeling guilty...could n't I borrow Bri?

"Yeah?" he asked softly.

My hands wrapped around the waistband of my robe. "I want to pass Go," I whispered. I tugged at the belt.

The cotton fell from my bare shoulders.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Brian

“I want to pass go.”

And then, she was naked.

I couldn’t breathe.

Heather’s skin was dewy and gorgeous and her breasts were perfect, perky and pointing at me like they were gonna shoot out little hooks and draw me in at any moment. Her hips were perfect and the curve of her abdomen led me down… down…

I looked up at her face.

“You’re drunk,” I whispered.

“Brian,” she whispered. She took a step towards me and I took a step back. We did this twice before she two-stepped, caught me as my back hit the TV console, and she pressed her bare chest against my bare chest. Her bathrobe lay in a pool by the door. Her hands ran across my chest, her fingernails digging into my skin. I closed my eyes. Every blood vessel in me was heading south on Interstate Brian’s-Hard-On. “I know you want this too,” she hissed.

I did.

I didn’t dare to touch her, though. An image of Nick’s face floated through my mind. Despite what an asshole he was, he was still my best friend. I froze, not daring to move. Not daring to breathe. Part of me was scared to stop this – I may never have this opportunity again, I realized – and the other part of me was scared that I wouldn’t stop it.

“Heather,” I said quietly, my tone lowering, trying to imply that it couldn’t happen, but she lowered to her knees in front of me.

“Brian,” she whispered, “Is it really cheating if I just know he’s sleeping with Lauren Kitt right now?” she asked.

My heart seized.

He wouldn’t. She wouldn’t. Would they?

Yes.

Heather, while I was mentally processing this, had taken hold of the strap of my boxers at my waist. “I’ve always wanted to see you naked again,” she said, giggling.

“A- again?” I stammered. She pulled the boxers down just a little bit. I reached for the band, but only halfheartedly. “When did y-you see me naked the first time?”

“In the Jacuzzi,” she giggled, “With Samantha Stonebreaker.” She slurred out the name. She stared up at me. “She had big tits.”

I felt my face turn red. “Yeah.”

“Do you like my tits, Brian?” she asked. She let go of my boxers and grabbed her breasts, pushing them up and together, thumbing her own nipples. She bit her lips and looked up at me all gooey-like. “Do you want to feel them?”

My throat burned. “What about—“

“Nick? I don’t love him,” she laughed. She stood up. “Brian, I want to have sex with you. Right. Fucking. Now.” She grabbed my hands and pulled my palms to her chest.

That was it. I couldn’t take anymore. Nick WHO?

I grabbed Heather by the hips and plowed her towards the bed. We fell back onto the mattress, she was giggling the entire way down. We slammed into it. It moved with us – a water bed – her hair flowing around her head. My hands still on her breasts, my mouth found her neck and she hummed and I felt the vibration of her voice in my lips and my body pressed against hers. She moved her hips, griding her crotch against my boxer-clad crotch, her fingers playing with the band again as I kissed her.

“Heather,” I murmured into her neck, “Heather, I love you.”

She didn’t answer.

She’d stopped grinding.

“Heather?” I pulled back.

She was asleep.
Chapter 28 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Twenty Eight

Nick

Lips of an angel. That was the song that floated through my mind the second that my body went from dead sleep to emerging wakeness.

Lauren and I had started our night making love on the balcony during the fireworks show. From there, things had moved to the bedroom. I didn't have a clue what time we had finally fallen asleep. All I knew was that I had made my decision.

I was going to man up, to Heather the truth, and call off the wedding.

Lauren Kitt was the one I wanted.

"Laur," I murmured, my tongue already aching for her taste. I stretched out my arm, ready to wrap it around her lithe body.

Instead, my arm hit empty mattress.

My eyes flew open. Sun streamed in through the windows, a soft breeze blowing the curtain. I sat up and looked around.

"Lauren?" I called out.

Nothing.

I scrambled out of bed. I found my boxers smashed in the sliding door leading back out to the balcony. I slid them on with a snap of the band. It was hard to swallow.

"Lauren?" I asked, feebly this time.

I found the note on the table, tacked down with the corner of the room service menu. Her handwriting was sloppy, but to me, it was just right. I sank down into the chair, my eyes scanning the words in disbelief.

Nick,

I woke up this morning and read the news. I can't believe you didn't tell me. God, how could I have been so stupid? You're just another douchebag. Deep down, I thought I had finally met my prince. I thought you were going to choose me. But instead you slept with me while your pregnant fiance spent the night alone just for your own selfish needs. I'm done being used by men...includin g you.

This isn't just about three adults anymore. I can't do this to a child. Marry Heather. I hope you have a long happy life together--

Lauren


I had to read the letter three times before I vaguely understand what was going on. I landed on the floor and crawled around until I found my jeans.

AJ answered on the third ring.

"Hey papa!"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I just saw on TMZ that Heather's preggers. You're spose to wait until AFTER the honeymoon. Damnit, I can't believe I'm the only fucker that's not gonna be a dad. You're a jackass."

The blood that had all flown south the night before flew to my eardrums.

"J, you've seen Heather. She's not pregnant."

"Dude, I'm just a TV junkie. All I can report is what I hear."

"Fuck."

"That's how it happens."

"What happens?"

"Knocking her up!"

"But I didn't!"

"Didn't what?"

Now I kinda knew why Brian and Howie always got so mad at me and J. Our conversations were ridiculous.

"Never mind," I growled. "I gotta find Heather."

I hung up and grabbed the letter again. The words burned into my eyeballs until they hurt. With a bubbly, gurgly, not-so-human noise erupting from my throat, I ripped the letter to shreds.

As I stepped out of the elevator onto Heather's hotel floor, I suddenly realized that all the lies and all the cheating had finally come back to kick me square in the ass. I should have stopped everything and manned up a long time ago. Then maybe Lauren and I would still be in bed in Vegas. Maybe...

I froze.

Maybe Heather wouldn't be trying to sneak out of Brian's bedroom right in front of my very eyes.


- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -


Heather

I woke up with a splitting headache that felt like my skull was being split by a sledgehammer. The smell of coffee wafted through the hotel room and into my nostrils. I lay still, my eyes closed. I didn’t dare to move. Fuzzy images floated through my mind, words tumbling, jostling like the remains of a Jenga tower once it had fallen.

It’d been a terrible nightmarish dream, hadn’t it? I wondered. I swallowed. I reached out an arm under the blankets slowly, running it up my naked body to my bare breasts. Well. I was most definitely not clothed. Part one of the nightmare confirmed fact. I wasn’t certain I wanted to know the rest.

I slipped my arm off my breasts, my hand moving across the Egyptian cotton sheets…...... and…. I felt… nothing.

I opened my eyes and looked to my left. The bed was empty. It didn’t look slept in. It was just a bed, plain and not scary. And certainly not occupied by Brian.

I let out a gasp of relief and let the blankets drop from my chest to my lap. “Oh thank God,” I breathed, covering my eyes. “I didn’t sleep with Brian.”

“Nope, you didn’t.”

I almost crapped myself at the sound of his voice, my heart putzing out of my chest as I seized the blanket back up to cover my skin. I squeaked and turned around. He was sitting, bleary eyed, in a chair by the window, his eyes bloodshot and tired. He was holding a cup of coffee, which sent steam floating up into his chin. He smiled weakly, “You fell asleep.”

I stared at him. Why, God, why wasn’t he a figment of my imagination? Why? I wondered what kind of a fool I’d made of myself, how slutty Brian now thought I was. I covered my eyes and groaned and fell backwards into the pillows. “Oh Brian,” I groaned, “You must think I—“

“No,” he interrupted, “I don’t think.”

I looked at him again. How could he not think I was a slut? I wondered. “But, Brian, I tried to have sex with you,” I said quietly.

Brian shrugged, “You made it clear you’re not interested in anything more than friends, Heather, it’s okay.”

Okay how could Brian Littrell of all people not think friends with benefits entailed slut?

“You should go back to your hotel room,” he whispered. He gestured to the white cotton robe that laid across the foot of my bed. “Nick’s gonna be in looking for you, you know he is.”

I stared at my bathrobe, then looked at Brian. “I was really drunk last night.”

“I know,” he said.

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“I know,” he said.

I still felt like shit. “I would never sleep with you sober,” I added for good measure.

Brian’s coffee splashed onto his hand as he banged it onto the table next to him and he stood up. “Thank you.” He stormed into the bathroom. “Lock the damn door behind you,” he snapped, and he slammed the bathroom door.

I stared at the door dumbfounded for a long moment. “Brian?” I called, “Why are you pissed?”

Just leave,” he called back.

I sighed. Whatever. If Brian was pissed because I’d tried to have sex with him then- then- then so be it. I gathered up my robe and pulled it tight to my body and looped the bathrobe closed. I headed for the door and stuck my head out into the hallway. A paparazzi could be watching and the last thing I needed was being photographed taking my walk of shame to my own room. I darted into the hall when I saw the coast was clear, and headed for my room door.

Suddenly the elevator dinged.

I looked up.

Nick blinked in surprise. He glanced at Brian’s room, then at me, his eyes sweeping my body, my sexed-up hair… He looked at Brian’s room door again. “Heather?” he said, “What the hell is going on?”

I swallowed. “I can explain.”


- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -


Brian

When Heather said that she’d never sleep with me sober, I’d realized that the shit she’d said the night before about wanting me and hoping to see me naked again had just been stuff to get me into bed that instant. I was a payback lay. She wanted me to have sex with her so Nick would feel like a jerk for cheating on her.

Heather had been about to use me.

I’d punched the wall. Hard. I’d crumbled to the floor, clutching my hand and calling out for Heather to help me, but apparently she was past that. I’d struggled with the cell phone, trying to decide who to call. My mind was scrambled, my heart unsure what to believe, and I called Howie.

A couple of hours later, Howie was pushing me out of the local hospital on the mandatory wheelchair patients had to be discharged riding, my hand freshly cast from the fracture the wall had given me.

“Mind telling me what the hell this is all about?” Howie asked with his latino roll. He eyeballed me. “You go crazy, we all go crazy. You’re like the backbone of this band.”

“I was pissed.”

“At the wall?” Howie laughed, “What’d the wall do to you?”

I glowered down at the cast as Howie helped me up and passed the wheelchair off to a waiting nurse. “At life, Howie,” I said.

Howie opened the passenger door of his car and waited until I got it. “Watch your fingers.” He slammed the door shut and ran around, climbing into his own side. “Look, Brian,” he said, “Now isn’t the time to go getting suicidal,” he said.

“I’m not thinking about suicide,” I answered, “I just—“ I looked at Howie. He looked… well, trustable. “Howie, I almost slept with Heather last night.”

Howie blinked. “You – what?”

“I almost slept with Heather last night.”

Howie stared at me. “What do you like have a fetish for pregnant chicks?”

I blinked. “What?”

“Heather,” Howie said, “It’s all over TMZ. She’s pregnant.”

Pregnant?” I demanded. “No way in hell is –“ but then I thought about her tummy. The curve of her abdomen had been a little….bigger….than it looked clothed, hadn’t it? I felt my blood get a little cold. “Oh God,” I whispered. “But… but she was drunk. Why didn’t Nick tell – why didn’t she –“ My mouth was sticking to itself.

Howie shrugged. “I guess we know why Nick was so persistent to get a ring on it, huh?” he winked and nudged me.

“Yeah,” I said quietly, “I guess so.”

And the horniness that had led to her coming after me.

“Are you okay?” Howie’s voice broke through a reverie I hadn’t even realized I’d fallen into.

“Yeah-huh,” I said.

Howie eyed me. “Brian,” he said, “Why don’t you just tell her?”

I sighed. “She doesn’t care, D. I sent her a letter. She didn’t think it was important. She doesn’t love me back.”

Howie sighed, “How do you know she got the letter?”

“Nick said—“

“Nick?” Howie laughed. “Brian, you’re a dumbass if you’re gonna just listen to Nick.”

I stared at my toes as he started the car. “Besides,” I muttered, “She’s pregnant.”

Howie sighed. “Talk to her.”

“I can’t,” I said and I knew even though Howie wanted to argue with me… he wouldn’t.
Chapter 29 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Twenty Nine

Nick

"I can explain..."

Heather tightened the sash on her robe. I folded my arms.

"Oh?"

Her lower lip jutted out and she cast a wayward glance at Brian's door. "I..."

It was at that second that I realized we probably shouldn't have this conversation in the hallway. I grabbed her arm and led her back to her room. As soon as the door closed behind us, I refolded my arms.

"It's not mine," I said.

She frowned. "What?"

I had done some thinking on the way up the elevator. I was beginning to doubt my initial claim that Heather couldn't be pregnant. But not for the reason you may think...

"It's not mine. Cause I always keep it wrapped. How long have you been sleeping with Brian?"

Heather sputtered. "S..sleeping with Brian? I haven't slept with Brian!"

Suddenly, tears sprang to her eyes. She hugged herself. "I didn't sleep with him," she repeated in the smallest, saddest voice I had ever heard. She looked tired and...pale. I could also tell she wasn't lying. Her left hand flew to her mouth.

"Oh God, I'm gonna be sick," she whimpered. She brushed past me into the bathroom. A second later, she wretched. I suddenly felt horrible.

And terrified. Was she?

I followed her trail and found her hunched over the toilet bowl. I scooped back her hair.

"Hey," I said gently. "It's gonna be okay."

She didn't answer for the longest time. Finally she lifted her head and grabbed for a piece of toilet paper.

"We're so stupid," she said.

So it was true. I was so gonna sue Trojan. I wrapped my arm around her waist. "You're tired and confused. I'm confused too. Listen, why don't you go take a shower and lay down?"

"Lay down?" she repeated. She sounded confused.

"It'll make you feel better," I said.

She sighed. "No...I'm fe--"

She lurched forward again. I let go of her and watched dumbstruck as her robe gaped open. I stared daggers at her stomach.

It was a little bigger than I remembered. Certainly bigger than La--

I pinched the bridge of my nose. I couldn't think about Lauren. Not now. She might have thought that I'd kept the news from her, but I hadn't even known the news.

Thinking back, Heather's grouchiness the day before made sense. She hadn't wanted sex because she was all baby-fied and feeling grody. If I hadn't asked for a little romp, maybe she would have told me.

I really was a douche.

"A shower might be a good idea," she finally sighed. I stood up and helped her to her feet. My palms felt clammy.

Holy shit, I was going to be a dad.

"Do whatever you need to do," I cooed. "I'm here. No more games."

She looked at me in surprise. "Really?"

I smiled, my head bouncing up and down even as my legs wanted to take me running out of there. "Really."

"I didn't sleep with Brian," she repeated. She paused and I had a feeling she was waiting for me to make a similar statement. But I couldn't. While I was lovin' on Lauren, Heather was probably getting preggo sympathy from Brian. He was all into rubbing feet and being dad-ish. Oh, boy.

"This is going to be exciting," I said, pumping emotion into my voice. I stroked her cheek with the pad of my thumb. "I love ya, Heath Bar."

She smiled. "Thank you, Nick."

She turned then, grabbing the knobs for the shower head. I backed out of the room, feeling as if I needed a bucket to catch the sweat off my pits.

How the hell had I knocked her up?

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

It's amazing the difference seventy two hours can make. Something happened to Nick in Vegas. The morning of my hangover, he changed back into the Nick I knew and loved. I couldn't help but feel like maybe the close call with Brian had been a sign from God himself.

I did belong with Nicky.

"Guess what I gotcha from Coooolddddstone?" Nick sang as he bounced back up on the bus. I had lost track of what city we were in. His happy face peered in at the bedroom. I was supposed to be writing; instead I was playing Farmville. I looked up to see the large red bowl.

"What?" I asked.

"Apple pie ala mode!" he announced. The mattress bounced as he flew onto it. He held the bowl out to me. I shifted the computer. I was about to take a big bite of the amazing smelling concotion when Nick did the weirdest thing.

He lifted my shirt and kissed my stomach.

"Are you okay?" I asked. He hummed against my navel.

"Are you?"

"Yes..." I said slowly.

"Good," he announced. He rolled over and continued to smile at me. I felt self-conscious as I took the bite.

"Wanna take a nap and cuddle?"

I stuck the spoon back into the scoop of ice cream. "Nick, what's gotten into you?" I asked. I didn't want to rock the boat, but, geesh, he was acting weird. His eyes widened.

"Don't you mean what's gotten into you?" he pressed.

"I don't under--"

"Nick!"

J's voice sailed through the bus. "You gotta come see this! I think the bus ran over a raccoon! It's disgusting. There's so many flies it's insane."

I made a face. "Well, I'm not hungry anymore."

"Are you gonna be sick?" Nick asked, tripping over the words. I laughed.

"Maybe."

His eyes softened. "Then I won't go see. I'll stay with you."

He played with a piece of my hair. His tenderness was touching...but also a little creepy.

"It's fine," I said. "Go see."

"Really?"

"Really."

That's all it took. He scrambled off the bed and headed towards the front of the bus, yelling at J to wait up.

A couple minutes later, I had just reopened my computer when I heard a knock at the window. I turned, startled. When I saw who it was I froze.

Bri and I had pretty much skirted around each other since the morning in Vegas. I had never heard him so angry as he was at me that morning. Just thinking about it brought tears to my eyes.

I had totally fucked up. As he knocked again, I closed the laptop. I scrambled off the bed and cranked open the window.

"Hey," he said. I licked my lips. The cinnamony taste of the ice cream still lingered.

"Hey."

He glanced down at his shoes. I glanced at his hand. I had heard conflicting stories about how he had managed to break it. I just hadn't been able to ask the source himself. "So...I just wanted to come over and apologize," he said.

"Apologize? For what?"

He looked back at me. "I didn't realize what you were feeling that night," he said quietly. "I'm glad we didn't...cause I see Nick's really stepping up, but I just wanted to let you know I'm here for you. And I'm excited for you. I can't think of anyone better for the job."

I smiled. "Aw, Bri..." I reached out and touched his hair. It was soft, unlike Nick's which was always geled. "Let's just forget about it. It was the alcohol talking."

"Yeah, about that," he said. He looked back up. "You shouldn't be--"

"Bri, come look at this raccoon! Well, Nick says its a beaver, but I think he has beaver on the brain!"

I laughed. AJ's voice was full of excitement. Bri turned in the direction of the voice.

"Just a minute!"

He turned back to me, an impish grin lighting up his face. He reached up and touched my cheek.

"You glow," he said.

All the air left my lungs. His fingertips stroked my cheek, raising goosebumps all up and down my neck and arms. His eyes looked at me and for a second I thought they looked hungry...desir ious. But before I could really confirm it, he turned and began to jog off.

"What is going on with these boys?" I whispered. I slowly closed the window.

All of the emotions Brian and Nick were tossing out towards me was messing with my mind...messing with my writing. I had to get to the bottom of it before it was too late.

I had a deadline to meet.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Brian

Little known fact: Pregnant women get me hot.

I mean, seriously, I’d do… Nick…if he was a pregnant woman.

Well, maybe not. I don’t know. Luckily that would never happen.

But seriously, pregnant women get me all worked up and tongue tied and – and they don’t even have to actually be pregnant. Just the thought of them being pregnant was enough to make my body BOING.

I woke up for the fifth night in a row since I’d congratulated Heather on the pregnancy from a really saucy dream. My hands felt along under the blanket. I might as well be twelve again, I thought, embarrassed and hoping Howie wasn’t awake in the bunk below me. I sat up and crawled out of my bunk taking the sheets with me. Those needed to disappear.

I balled them up into a knot and shoved them into a trash bag. I snuck out the bus and into the lot they’d parked us in behind the venue. I tiptoed across the parking lot and threw the bag into the dumpster, feeling quite good about myself. I started back towards the bus when I noticed Nick and Heather’s bus lights were still on. I stood there, gawking at the orange glow that felt across the parking lot.

I wondered if Nick would have the respect to back off for me if the roles had been switched.

I sighed heavily and returned to my bus, returned to my bunk and my loneliness, and curled up.


Time seemed to fly from that point on. The end of the tour came like a flash in the pan. Nick was still fetching everything for Heather, and I was still waiting to catch her if he let her fall. But, I got to hand it to him, he didn’t. Though he did seem to be searching everywhere for something, like he’d misplaced his keys and was looking for them. I asked him a couple times about the weird habit and he said he didn’t know what it was about, but something told me that it maybe had something to do with Lauren really being gone this time.

The hardest part about the time rolling by, for me anyways, was the dreams. They continued long after Baylee and I had moved into my parents’ house in Kentucky while we waited for the move-in date for the apartment I’d selected in Louisville. It was hard being home, in a place where Heather always was, but was no more. I thought about her, about the chance I’d had. I wondered if I’d acted sooner – if I’d reacted when she first let go of the robe – if we’d have gotten there, if she’d have fallen for me, if she’d have left Nick and picked me.

But I didn’t. I’d let her slip through my fingers.

Again.

I spent a great deal of time laying on my back in bed, staring up at the ceiling, day dreaming about what might have happened, wondering about the night with the Whack-a-Mole, wondering if the almost sex had been research, too.
Chapter 30 by Pengi
Chapter Thirty

"I like the red and silver."

"Really?"

"Really."

Heather shrugged and tucked a blonde curl behind her ear. We were sitting in the middle of the stationery store with three huge ass books of invitation styles in front of us. They all looked the same.

"We have to get these out, like...yesterd ay," she said. "The wedding's in six weeks."

"I know," I said. I tapped the book. "Let's go with these."

She bit her lip. I looked around, my eyes stopping on a large ornate 'L' on the wall.

Sigh.

Heath and I had been comfortably cohabitating in LA since the tour ended. She had been working on her book and I...well I was getting ready for a quick four-week solo tour.

"We'll go with this style," Heather finally told the lady who had been following us like a piranha. The lady snatched up the book and disappeared to the computer to plug all the info in.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay alone here while I'm gone?" I asked, turning towards her in the swivel chair. Heath looked over at me and smiled.

"I have to finish my book. I'm so close. Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"Well..."

Heather was in denial. I was pretty sure of it. I hadn't heard her mention the pregnancy once. She had almost given me a heart attack two weeks ago when I came home to find her pouring wine. She had looked at me like I was the idiot when I told her she couldn't have a glass.

I figured her denial had gone on long enough.

"Heath, why haven't you gone to a doctor? Don't you think we need to make sure everythings okay? I'm not an expert but--"

"Nick, what...what in h-double-hockey sticks are you talking about?"

I glanced down. If anything, she seemed to have lost weight.

"Well, I'm no expert, but shouldn't you be showing a little more?"

Her hands flew to her top. "Nick, they're already falling out. Don't be a pig."

My eyes widened. "I don't mean those," I stressed, even though I wouldn't have minded if they were falling out a big more. "I mean..." I waved my hand towards her stomach. Her mouth dropped open.

"What?"

I glanced around. We were the only people in the store, but I still lowered my voice. "The b-a-y-b."

"What's that?"

"You don't know what a BABY is?" I said. The clerk looked up from the computer. Heather's face turned scarlet.

"A baby? Nick, what's going on?"

Now I was sure of it. I was going to have to have her committed. We'd have to call off the wedding. She'd be sitting in the padded cell in a straight jacket.

"The baby? You have to be like four months along now. Maybe five. Which is it?"

Heather's mouth fell open and began to move like a fish. She glanced around the room almost like she was prepared to be Punk'd.

"Who--who told you I was--"

"J called me that morning in Vegas. He heard it on TMZ. TMZ got it from a maid who emptied the wastebaskets in your room. And--"

"Nick, I'm...I'm not pregnant. Oh my God. How could you believe TMZ? Don't you think I would have told you if I was---was---"

Heather bounced up and grabbed her purse. I slowly slid off the stool.

"You're not?"

"No!" she hissed. I could see the mortification in her eyes. "How could you even think that? You've been...sleepin g with me." She finished in a mumble.

"Well, I didn't know the timeline for these things."

"Nick, I had you go get me a box of tampons last week."

I bit my cheek. "Oh yeah."

She shook her head, the halo of blonde floating around her angry face. "Great. How many other people think I'm pregnant? Can't a chick just eat a box of f-friggin Fudge Rounds every now and then?"

"Heath--"

She held up a hand, her eyes glowing in a cuckoo-for-Cocoa-Puffs way. "Now it makes sense. Brian thought I was pregnant. And you---you were only being old Nick because you thought--" She snorted. "Stupid. STUPID!"

"What's stupid?" I asked. "Where are you going?" I motioned towards the stationery lady. "We need to finish--"

"Finish them yourself!" she called out. The bell above the door tinkled as she practically ran outside. I sank back down on the barstool.

"Is it Nickolas with a 'h' or a 'k'?" the clerk asked me after a long, quiet minute.

"F," I muttered. I pressed my chin into my palm.

"As in totally fucked."

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

I whipped out my cell phone the moment I got out onto the street. I’d pulled it out of my pocket so viciously that I almost dropped it on the tar. I dialed Brian’s number so fast, my fingers were like lightening.

But it wasn’t Brian that picked up.

“Hello.”

It was a woman.

I stared at the phone, confused. “Um… Hello?”

“Hello?”

“I think I have the wrong number,” I stammered, confused. I’d come to a stop in the street and I heard the stationary store’s bell jingle and the door slam and Nick’s stupid big feet slapping the pavement as he ran up behind me. I let out a sigh as he caught up and wrapped his arms around me.

“Baby,” he said, his voice pleading. I turned around and cracked my hand across his face. He stepped back, looking stunned. “What the fuck was that for?” he demanded.

“For thinking I was pregnant,” I said, glowering at him. “You can’t just ask me like a normal human being, no. You have to tell everyone and their mother about it before you’ve even confirmed it, then act like you have a right to be all hurt…”

“I didn’t ask you because I didn’t want you to think I didn’t want you to be!” he snapped.

“Of course you didn’t want me to be pregnant,” I growled, “You’ve never wanted kids.”

“Maybe one.”

“Nick, you’ve been f-f-fucking with my head and it’s not okay,” I hissed. God it felt good to finally get the actual word I meant out.

He glanced around, “Babe, I’m not fucking with your head.”

“Yes you are, being the perfect man ,being so compassionate! You haven’t been like that in months.”

“I’m being like that now, though,” he argued.

“You’re just waiting for a chance to go sleep with Lauren Kitt. I’m not stupid. You’re probably going to be banging her every night while you’re gone on this stupid tour.”

Nick’s eyes looked sad and I wondered why - if they were sad because I thought this of him, or because I was right, or because of some other, unknown reason – and he said, “Lauren’s gone,” he said, “I don’t even know where she is or how to contact her, okay? All ties are cut with Lauren Kitt.”

Then something really weird went through my mind.

Nick had asked me how long had I been sleeping with Brian.

My eyes widened, “You think I’ve slept with Brian?” I demanded.

Nick blinked in surprise, “Say what?”

“YOU!” I pushed him in the chest. “You think I slept with Brian.”

Nick hesitated. “Haven’t you?”

“OH MY GOD,” I yelled. I turned and started walking away, my face as scarlet red as anything, my blood boiling. He took two strides and caught up to me and stared at me as we walked forward through the crowded LA streets.

“You’ve never slept with Brian?” he asked, surprised. He caught my arm. “Never?”

I looked at Nick in the face.

“Never,” I said.

He got a far away look on his face. “I wonder what he meant in that letter…”

I raised my eyebrow. “What letter?”

Nick’s eyes met mine.


-------------------------------------------------------------


Brian

I was helping Mr. Johnson and Chris redo the outside of the tree house so that it had a porch. I’m not sure why they decided to do it now, considering Tessa was nowhere near old enough to use it yet, but it was an interesting summer project and it came with a lot of homemade sweet tea and nails to pound. Every nail I sledged with the hammer I imagined was Nick.

“You hear from Heather lately?” Chris asked.

I shook my head, “Not since her and Nick went back to LA.”

“I can’t believe she’s staying with that jackass,” Chris commented.

“Someone hand me a screw driver,” called Mr. Johnson. Chris grabbed the screw driver off the floor of the tree house and handed it out the window. “Thanks.”

I was sitting in a folding chair sipping sweet tea. They were lucky they’d gotten me into the tree, house or no house. There was no way in hell I was going out on the branches. But I’d gladly keep the fellas company. Chris had been in and out onto the branches all afternoon.

The screw driver came back in the window.

Chris put it into its spot in the tool box. He looked at me. “He still seeing that bitch?”

“Lauren?” I asked. I shook my head. “Nawh. Lauren took off. She’s not so bad, though, don’t blame her for Nick’s shortcomings. She’s actually a sweet girl.”

“She’s The other woman, Brian,” Chris said with a shrug, “I don’t care if she’s freaking Oprah, I don’t like her. She’s a bitch no matter what she’s like.”

“Wrench.”

Chris grabbed the wrench and held it out the window.

“I talked to her,” I said, “A couple times. Nick broke it off with her and that was that. Then Heather got pregnant…”

“Shh,” Chris covered his mouth. He glanced at the window. “She still hasn’t called mom.”

Still?” I demanded. “That’s insane. Why is she waiting so long?”

Chris shrugged. “I mean there is a waiting time – a time when it’s safest to tell people about it, but still. It’s been awhile, she should’ve called by now…”

“Other wrench.”

Chris exchanged the wrenches.

“I just can’t believe the wedding is less than two months away,” I said.

“Me either.” Chris’ voice was rough around the edge.

“I mean in like 40 days your dad’s gonna walk her down the aisle and Nick’s gonna be her husband it’s gonna be –“ I sighed. “She’s gonna be Heather Carter.”

Chris smirked, “Not ringing any bells for you?” he asked. “Not like Heather Littrell would?”

“Shut up,” I laughed, but my cheeks pinkened anyways.

“Why don’t you just tell her you love her?” Chris asked.

“I did,” I said quietly, “I sent her a letter.”

“A letter?” Chris laughed, “And how do we know she got the letter?”

Déjà vu? I felt like I’d already had this conversation… with Howie.

“Nick said she got it.”

“I’m pretty sure Nick says a lot of things,” Chris mumbled.

Suddenly, outside, there was a crack and a terrible splintering noise, a groan and a moment later a loud crashing thump. Chris’ eyes widened and he turned to the window. “Pops!?” he shouted, bounding for the door. He disappeared down the rope ladder. I followed closely behind.

Mr. Johnson was laying under the broken branch, clutching his heart and his leg.

“Call 9-1-1,” Chris demanded, rushing to his father’s side.

My fingers couldn’t find the numbers quick enough.
Chapter 31 by Pengi
Chapter Thirty One

Nick

"What letter?"

My eyes locked onto Heather's, my face still stinging where she had slapped me. I took a deep breath. Maybe it was time to be completely honest. Lay all the cards out on the table.

"I might have done a tiny bad thing," I said. I held my thumb and forefinger up, the two almost touching.

"What kind of bad thing?" Her voice was as tight as a guitar string. I felt like I could almost pluck it.

"Well..."

I was interrupted by her phone. Rascal Flatts' version of Life is a Highway erupted out of the speaker. Heather growled, jabbed at the phone, and pressed it to her ear.

"Chris, what is it? Now's not a good---what?"

Heather looked at me and the anger in her eyes was suddenly replaced with fear. And worry. "Is he okay?"

"Who's okay?" I mouthed, but she waved her hand at me and spun around.

"Why did you let him up there?" she demanded. "He's not a spring chicken! What hospital?"

There was a pause.

"I don't care if you say he's fine," she said impatiently. "What hospital?"

There was another pause and then Heath sighed. "I'll be on the next flight."

She disconnected and her shoes barely touched ground as she took off again. I grabbed her elbow before she got too far.

"What's up?"

"My dad fell out of the tree house, broke his leg, and had a mild heart attack. I gotta go."

"Go? Where?"

"Where do you think? Home!"

"Do you want me to go with you?" I asked.

Heath was rummaging around in her purse. She shook her head. "You've got to finish packing for the tour," she sighed. "No, it's okay. I just...I just have to see with my own eyes that he's okay."

"But the invitations..."

She looked up impatiently. "Just get the ones you like. I don't care."

Her keys jingled as she swooped in and kissed the cheek she had just slapped.

"We need to talk. Later, right? Even if it's via Skype."

I licked my lips. "Right," I repeated.

With that, Heather was off. The phone was back to her ear and she was quickly reserving a spot on the next flight out. I turned back towards the stationery store.

Maybe it was a good thing she had gotten that call. I had almost told her about Brian and the letter. If I had, something told me she wouldn't have married me. That wouldn't have been so bad (I guess) except I didn't know where Lauren was to tell her that Heather wasn't pregnant. She had fallen off the face of the Earth.

And I didn't want to be left completely alone. The thought scared me.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

"DADDY!"

I couldn't help myself. I teared up at the sight of my dad, my hero, in the hospital bed, his leg casted and suspended with a pulley. He held out an arm as I rushed at him, burying my face in his chest. I began to cry.

"Sug, I'm okay," he whisperered. I grabbed the sheet and balled it up.

"Chris is an idiot," I hiccuped. I pressed my chest against his shoulder. Daddy tugged my hair just like he always did. It made me feel better. Slightly.

"He didn't push me out of the tree. It was an accident."

I looked up into his eyes (my eyes) and sniffled. "You had a heart attack."

My daddy smiled. "Wouldn't you if you toppled out of a tree?"

I laughed weakly. "You can't leave me."

"I don't plan on it," he said. Then it was his turn to tear up. "But..."

My pulse spiked. "But?"

"I'm going to be in this cast three months."

It took me a full minute to realize what that meant. We both studied the white plaster housing his mangled leg. My lips puckered. Then it dawned on me. I gasped.

"Daddy--"

"Sweetheart," his voice cracked. "I'm not gonna be able to walk you down the aisle."

"NO! You have to. We'll postpone the wedding. We'll--"

"You're not postponing the wedding," he said firmly. His warm hand covered my own. He blinked back his own emotion in an attempt to calm me down. "I'll still be there. Front and center. I just can't do the walk."

I was having trouble breathing. It felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest. "But I can't walk alone. I'll pass out. Ever since I was a little girl I've dreamed--"

"I...er, I could walk ya."

My head snapped up. I looked over at the doorway, not completely shocked that he had such good (bad?) timing. Sure enough, Brian hovered there, twisting his baseball cap in his hands.

"Hi Heath," he whispered.

Absence had only made my heart grow fonder. I stood up, unable to tear my eyes away from him. I suddenly forgot what he had even said to get my attention. The peach fuzz on his face and his sparkling eyes were all I wanted.

All I ever wanted.

"Hi," I whispered back.

"Should I leave you two alone?" dad quipped.

"Maybe this is a bad time," Bri drawled. Dad waved his hand.

"Don't be stupid, son. Come on in. Heather just got here..."

"And I think she could use the company."

------------------------------------------------------------


Brian

Chris and I had gotten Mr. Johnson to the hospital and then snuck off while they set his leg to go get food. Chris had to go home and I’d somehow gotten roped into waiting around at the hospital with Mr. J while I was waiting for Heather to get there from California. I’d slipped out for coffee from the coffee vending machine - Starbucks it is not - and returned to find her in tears, crying because Mr. J had just let her in on the fact that the cast was going to be staying for three months. That he wasn’t going to be able to walk her down the aisle.

Down the aisle… down the aisle to Nick’s waiting arms… down the aisle to holy matrimony.

“I can’t walk alone. I’ll pass out. Ever since I was a little girl I’ve dreamed…” And had she ever. I could still remember her getting mad because Chris and I had run through her Barbie doll’s wedding in the backyard…

“It’s a stupid doll,” Chris would say as she started crying, “Its wedding can’t be ruined, it’s a fake wedding.”

Heather would swipe the tear from her cheek and pout at him and stammer, “It’s not fake. We’re on the coast of Italy and Daddy’s walking Barbie down the aisle to – to –“

“To Briaaaan,” Chris would sing-song, “Heather and Brian sitting in a tree…”

“Hey don’t get me in on this!” I’d drawl out.
Heather would look at me with big gooey wet eyes.

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G…”

“I, er, could walk you.” Heather’s eyes landed on my face. I licked my lips. “Hi,” I said quietly.

“Hi,” she said back.

“Should I leave you two alone?” Mr. J asked from his spot on the mattress. Heather turned pink and turned back to her dad.

“Maybe this is a bad time,” I replied.

“Don’t be stupid son. Heather just got here, and I think she could use the company.” He smiled.

Chris’ song from so long ago was echoing in my head still. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Heather pushing a baby carriage…

I sat down slowly in a chair on the opposite side of Mr. J from Heather and pulled my Kentucky Wildcats hat onto my head. I leaned back in the chair and put my palms on my knees. I looked between Mr. J and Heather. Heather was staring at him with those same gooey eyes I’d just been thinking about. She laid a hand on his hand. “I’ll post pone the wedding, Daddy,” she said, “You have to walk me down the aisle.”

Oh yeah. That’s right too. That’s what had started this all.

Mr. Johnson shook his head, “Sugar,” he said, lifting his hand and lacing his fingers between Heather’s. “Look, sweetie, it’s not a secret… you- you need to marry Nick… before…” his eyes traveled to her stomach.

Heather gasped. She looked at me. “Is there anybody you guys didn’t tell?” she demanded. She stood up.

“I didn’t tell any –“

“I’m NOT pregnant!” she said, “Look. LOOK at me.” She lifted her shirt up. Her belly button showed. I felt hypnotized. “This is not the stomach of a pregnant woman!” she said. “I would’ve called you and momma first thing if I was pregnant.” Heather shook her head, “Daddy, Nick doesn’t want kids, okay? I’ll probably never be pregnant.”

“WHAT?” Mr. Johnson and I had both exploded at the same time. Heather sat down. I was flabbergasted. “Never be pregnant?” Mr. Johnson’s eyes grew watery, “No little sugars?”

“You’ve always wanted a baby, Heath,” I stammered.

She looked at me and said evenly, “Nick doesn’t want kids, so we’re not going to have kids.”

“Well that’s not fair…”

Heather stood up, red in the face. “Life isn’t fair. I mean all I wanted is a small little wedding on a beach with my stupid teal sneakers and a baby and maybe a dog. A Labrador retriever.” Tears were welling in her eyes. “All I wanted was my daddy to walk me down the aisle into the waiting arms of –“ her voice caught in her throat, “And now I can’t have any of that.”

“Aw kiddo, I’m sorry,” I stood up, too, and started the motion of going over to hug her, but she shook her head.

“Excuse me a minute,” she gasped, and she ducked out the door.

I stood there, dumbfounded.

“What the hell are you waiting for?” Mr. Johnson asked, looking up at me. “Go be Prince Charming.”

I glanced at him, and muttered, “Prince Charming? Please… I’m barely even one of the seven dwarves.”
Chapter 32 by Pengi
Chapter Thirty Two

Nick

"She's not pregnant? Well damn. What are you doing, shooting blanks?"

I rolled up an old gray shirt that was fairly new (it only had one tiny hole in the pit) and stuffed it in my bag. I glared at J.

"We weren't trying and I keep it wrapped."

"Always?"

My jaw tensed. I lifted a pair of socks to my nose and inhaled. They passed. In the bag they went. I thought about the 4th of July. It was hard to remember if I wrapped it up that last time I was with Lauren. She had called herself stupid and yanked off her shirt and my head was sandwiched between two orbs and she was talking about being double-jointed...

"Heather wouldn't want it any other way," I declared. I zipped up the bag and sat down. "Y'know what she accused me of before she left?"

"Of being a douche?"

I decided to let that pass. "No. She accused me of not wanting a baby."

"Well, dude, I hate to say it, but you've told me that a million times."

I stared at my knuckles. I had scraped them along the brick building of the tux shop just a couple hours before. The skin was an angry shade of pink. I puckered my lips.

"Maybe I changed my mind," I said aloud, almost testing the statement.

"Are you drunk?"

I knew I should have called Howie. Why was it that AJ was always the only one around? Fuck.

I fell back on the bed. "Why? Why do I talk to you?"

J's bald ass head suddenly hovered over me. "I'm sorry. We can continue to chick talk. You want a baby?"

"I dunno. I mean, it kinda comes with the territory, doesn't it? And when I die, it would be kinda nice to have someone care and keep the Nick genes alive."

"What if you had a daughter? How's a chick gonna keep the 'Nick genes'," AJ made air quotes. It reminded me of Brian. "alive?"

Hunh. I hadn't thought of that. I lifted my arms above my head. "She could. Cause if she had a boy then I'd have a grandson. And he'd keep the Carter pride alive."

"Carter pride? What have you done to be proud of lately?"

The silence was deadly. J instantly realized he had hit below the built. "Sorry," he muttered.

"No," I said. "You're right. I've been a douche. I've been a sneak. I've been a no-good-lying sonofabitch. I can't be that kind of dad. I swear that as soon as Heather and I are married, I'm going to come clean about everything. Then we can have one of those 'Cosby Show' families."

"With all those kids?"

"NO!"

J snickered. "Just checking. Monkee and I are planning a baseball team full of little monsters."

"Seriously?"

"Unlike you, I can change a diaper."

"You may be able to change a diaper, but are you gonna take all of 'em to the circus?" I asked.

It was priceless. J's usually golden complexion turned stark white. "NO."

I grinned.

"Just checking."

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

I shoved quarters into the ancient soda machine and hit my selection of Cherry Coke. Nothing happened. I punched the buttons again, willing it to magically work this time. It didn’t. I pressed the change release button, and nothing happened. “God damn it,” I bellowed and I started kicking the machine, tears springing to my eyes. The machine wasn’t the machine anymore in my head, it was Nick. “God damn it, God damn it,” I sobbed.

Suddenly two strong arms were around me, pulling me away from the vending machine. “Hey, hey now kiddo, shhh.” I looked up. “Pick on somebody your own size,” he laughed. “What’d the vending machine ever do to you?” he asked.

“It ate my change,” I snuffled.

Brian reached around me and expertly tapped the side of the machine with his fist twice. He was rewarded with the clicking of my quarters in the change cup. He smiled, “Sometimes there’s benefits to them not changing out vending machines for twenty years,” he laughed.

I took the quarters out and shoved them into my pocket.

“C’mon, let’s take a walk. There’s another vending machine a couple halls from here,” he said, wrapping his arm around me, “That one has Pepsi products, but you know.” He guided me along down the hall, away from the vending machine. It was quiet for a moment, then he said, “Did Nick tell you he didn’t want you to have babies?”

“No, it’s just obvious.”

Brian’s fingers tensed.

“He looked so relieved when I told him TMZ was wrong,” I said, frowning. Nick’s eyes had gone from panic to shock to relief in under a second, then back to panic. “He wasn’t going to tell me not to have it, because he felt obligated, but he didn’t really want it, and I don’t want babies in a family that doesn’t want them.” I’d thought this out on the plane. I’d decided it myself. “I should get my tubes tied, then he doesn’t have to worry about condoms.”

Brian looked at me, his eyes hurt. “But you’ve always wanted to have kids.”

This one time, Brian had come over to our house looking for Chris, but Chris had gotten a detention in school and he was staying late after. So Brian was sitting in the backyard, waiting for Chris to come home and he looked bored so I asked him to play with me. “What are we playing?” he’d asked.

“House,” I’d said, “And you’re the Dad.”

Brian had smiled and carefully, gently picked up my baby doll, who had been named Heather, too, like me, and he’d cradled her in his arms just like she was a real baby. He might have been like thirteen at the time, but Brian looked down at that baby doll’s eyes like they were true, blinking eyes of a miniature angel. He’d smiled, “She’s beautiful,” he said, looking up at me, “She has your eyes.”

That is what a father was supposed to look like the first time he held his child. And for the life of me, I couldn’t picture Nick looking anything except nauseated.

I frowned. “I know.”

Brian licked his lips. “Heather,” he said, his voice level and serious, “Do you want to marry Nick?”

I felt my throat close up.


-------------------------------------------------------


Brian

Silence hung between us.

“Kiddo?” I asked.

“Where’s this mythical Pepsi machine?” she asked, turning and taking some paces ahead of me. I watched her back. I sighed and followed her.

“Around this corner,” I answered.

We turned and Heather pulled her quarters out and ordered a Dr. Pepper from the machine. The soda hissed as she unscrewed the cap. I pulled some money out of the depths of my pocket, too, and got a diet Pepsi. We stood there sipping our bottles of soda for a long moment.

Then I took a deep breath, “If you don’t want to marry him,” I said, “Then you shouldn’t.”

“What girl wouldn’t want to marry Nick Carter?” she laughed.

I shrugged. I took another pull off the Pepsi. “One that didn’t love him.”

Heather’s eyes turned to look into mine over the end of her Dr. Pepper. She swallowed way more of the soda than she probably had been intending to, and stared at me the whole time. I could almost hear the wheels turning in her head. She lowered the bottle. “Of course I love Nick. I’ve loved Nick since – since you introduced us.”

I shrugged again.

“Look, what Nick and I have is special,” she said, struggling for words, “What we have – it – it doesn’t need babies to complete.”

“Okay,” I said.

She stared up at me. “Don’t judge me.”

“I’m not judging you.” I downed the last mouthful of my Pepsi and held the empty bottle. I played with the cap. “I just think you deserve to be truly happy, with someone that wants what you want.”

Heather shrugged, “This isn’t a fairy tale, Brian. There’s no prince, there’s no white horses. Sometimes marriage is more about working it out than about love and sometimes you don’t get what you want, you get what you need.”

I shook my head. “You’re preaching to the choir, Heath,” I said, “I know marriage isn’t always rainbows and butterflies and happy times and all that bull crap that Hans Christian Andersen expected us to believe it is. I know. My wife’s a lesbian, remember? I know all about making it work.”

“You stayed with Leighanne even after she didn’t want babies anymore,” Heather accused, “Even though you wanted more.” She stared at me.

I stared back at her.

“You wanted more than one,” she said, “I know you did. I know you have more empty nest syndrome than she’d ever have.” Heather studied me. “Why did you stay with Leighanne?”

I felt a bubble rise in my throat. “But I loved Leighanne.”

“And I loved Nick,” Heather said.

“Past tense?” I asked.

Heather threw away her Dr. Pepper bottle and walked away.
Chapter 33 by Pengi
Chapter Thirty Three

Nick

"I think I'm gonna be sick."

A paper bag was shoved under my chin and up over my nose.

"Breathe."

I took the bag from Howie and sucked in until the bag crinkled all the way. I glanced up at him, watching as his brown Puerto Rican eyes narrowed.

"You were fine two days ago for the bachelor party. You're gonna be fine now."

I sucked in and out a few more times before lowering the bag. "The party was fine 'cause there was girls. Yes, Brian didn't get me a nudie girl, but she was still pretty nice lookin'. This is different because I'm at a friggin chateau and there's a priest out there and we have to rehearse for a wedding. My wedding. And it's tomorrow. How did it get to be tomorrow?"

"You set the date," Howie reminded me.

"Heather set the date."

"You agreed to it."

"I agree to a lot of things."

D snorted. His eyes flickered towards the door. "It's going to be fine. I saw a couple waiters bringing up a whole box of wine bottles from the cellar. You get through the rehearsal and make it to dinner and you'll be feeling fine."

I didn't answer. The reason I didn't answer was because I wasn't so sure. Ever since Heath got back from Kentucky and I got back from tour, we had been doing our weird little skirting thing. We never talked about anything important unless it was necessary.

Was that love?

I prayed if I made it through the wedding (and I was kinda sure I would) that I could come clean once we got to Maui. With all the guilt off my chest, maybe we really could do this whole 'Mr. and Mrs.' thing.

"Wine, you say?" I asked.

"Wine," D confirmed.

"Hey, the minister said he's ready when you are."

Bri poked his head in. I watched his pink tie flap in the air as he leaned forward. It was the color of Pepto Bismo.

"I think I have to take a crap," I lied. His eyes narrowed.

"Nick."

I rolled my eyes towards the ceiling and counted to three.

"Fine."

As a result of Heather's dad flying out of the tree house, he wasn't able to walk her down the aisle. After weeks of back-and-forth bickering, Heather had come to the realization that the next best thing was Brian.

Yes, Brian. My best man.

The guy who loved her more than I thought was possible.

"You can still back out," he added.

"He's not gonna back out. He's gonna back in."

J poked his head up over Brian's arm. He gave me a wink. "Kinda like what he wanted to do to that titty girl. She was nice, huh? Monkee liked the picture I took."

I groaned. Somehow I had downed one too many shots and kinda ended up on a table with the 'titty girl,' air smacking her ass like she was a horse.

"We are not talking about that," I warned. Bri's ears had turned pink. The girl had really wanted his attention, but Mr. Country Monk himself hadn't even made eye contact.

Even I was wondering when the last time he got laid was. Especially since I now knew he hadn't slept with Heather.

He would never know what he was missing.

With that thought, I stood up, straightening my tie.

"Okay," I said, thoughts of Heather walking down the aisle in her sexy little rehearsal sundress playing through my mind. "I can do this."

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

"You still have almost a whole twenty four hours."

"Shut up."

"Heath, I know Brian's even tried to talk you out of it. He told me that he talked to you at the hospital and--"

"Chris."

My brother looked at me, frustration written all over his face. "You're giving me a million gray hairs Heath. You don't belong with Nick Carter."

I turned around and took my practice bouquet from one of my bridesmaids. Every single one of the girls in my wedding party were old high school friends. I couldn't be sure if they were really here for me or whether they were there just to say they were in Nick Carter's wedding. Either way, Georgia grinned as the bouquet left her grasp.

Somehow, six weeks had sped by like a freight train. Between last revisions on my book and tying up all the wedding details, hours had become seconds, seconds had become nonexistant. I ran my hand down my sundress and shivered.

It was sad (extremely sad, really), but I had given up my bachelorette party to finish my book. I don't know how long I sat staring at the screen. I had saved the dedication until last; it was the hardest part of the whole book. I had almost decided not to do one at all, but finally I had hit the send button on my e-mail and it was a done deal.

The whole world would soon know that I owed my entire book to Brian. I couldn't make it anymore clear. I had memorized the thirteen words I had put on the dedication page. Bri, You're my inspiration. Without you, I'd be nothing. I love you - Heather.

"Are you ready?"

Chris was still scowling as Brian walked up. His tie was horrendous, but it only made me love him more. The aftershave he was wearing penetrated deep into my abdomen, stirring up feelings I knew should have been kept at bay until the honeymoon...

The honeymoon. Oh, lord.

"Is Nick ready?" I asked.

Bri glanced over at Chris. Then he looked at the ceiling. Finally, he looked at me.

"How couldn't he be? You look beautiful. And this is just the rehearsal."

I smiled, his words touching me more than they should have. "Thank you. You look amazing too. I couldn't ask for a better best man."

He offered his arm and I slid mine through his. I was surprised at the tight grip he held me at.

"Heather Anne--" Chris threatened.

"You need to be up there with the rest of the penguins," I said coldly. I pressed the flowers against my breast. I hated the red roses, but I chose to ignore them.

I chose to ignore anything that was going wrong (which was pretty much the whole thing). I really just wanted to get the rehearsal over and drink some wine.

Wine made everything better.

"What song are you and Nick dancing to?" Bri whispered.

"Some Journey song," I whispered back.

"You don't know the title? Isn't it your song?"

"We never had a song. Nick just wanted to jam to Journey," I whispered back.

Call me crazy, but I thought Brian growled even as he poked his head out of the doorway and waved up towards the front of the room. The music began and I watched my bridesmaids leave one by one. Finally, only Sandra, my maid of honor, was left. She looked at me and I swear even she shook her head.

Then she was gone.

"What's for dinner tonight?" Bri asked. We hadn't talked as much as we were at that moment since the tense exchange by the soda machine.

"Fried chicken."

"Good," he said simply. "I need to gnaw on something."

It was our cue and suddenly I couldn't move. I need to GNAW on something. My brain bogged down and I was suddenly imagining what it would be like for him to gnaw on me. My mouth fell open and I was pretty sure I had started to salivate. God, I was drooling like...like...Nick.

"Kiddo, it's our cue."

He jiggled my arm and I caught my bouquet just before I dropped it. I stared out the white silk runner, already in place for the next day, and almost vomited.

He doesn't want you, the little voice in my head reminded me. All images of gnawing washed away.

"Okay," I said shakily. "Let's get the show on the road."

"I'm starving...and thirsty."

--------------------------------------------------------------


Brian

I’ve never seen people drink wine so quickly. Nick was on his third glass before the plates had even been passed around and Heather was at least one deep, but she had snuck at least three sips off mine while waiting for her second glass to come. I was shaking to hard to hold the damn glass, so it didn’t bother me that she was drinking all my wine. Chris was glowering across the table at Nick. Silverware clinked and clanked and made ridiculous amounts of noise for a group of people who were eating the kind of chicken you hold with your fingers.

The rehearsal had gone terribly. Nick was picking at the flower he had pinned to his lapel and looking sick while Chris glared at his back like he wanted to shove daggers through it. I had almost tripped on the silky runner that split the pews, and then not really wanting to let go of Heather’s arm when we reached the pulpit, I’d almost tripped her, too. Nick had stammered over the I do part and Heather had been staring into space when her turn came.

Now we were at least being handed goblets of alcohol to ease the tension.

Then it was speech time.

Heather’s maid of honor fumbled her way through some stories from the Heather Archives of History, stuff that happened in high school. It was like reading the back pages of a freaking yearbook, and I tuned it out, sipping my wine and picking at the remnants of a roll on my plate. Until I heard my name, that is.

“I remember when Brian moved to Florida,” the girl giggled, “And Heather vowed she would save her money from working at Long John Silver’s and go move in with him because she swore one day they’d get married…” She raised her glass, “Who knew she would end up with his best friend?”

I looked at Heather. Her face was scarlet.

The girl sat down.

My throat burned.

Then Chris stood up. Chris, by default, had ended up being Nick’s best man now that I was out of the job. He cleared his throat and lifted his glass. He gave me and Heather the slightest look of apology, then said, in a loud, clear voice… “Let’s toast the groom, Nick Carter, who’s managed to single handedly blind my sister to any form of sanity.”

Nick looked up, uncomfortable expressions crossing his face.

“Yeah, let’s all cheer on Nick,” Chris continued, “Who’s only here because the titty bar down the street doesn’t open until nine.”

A hush fell over the room.

“Chris,” I hissed under my breath, “This isn’t the place.”

Chris laughed. Maybe he’d had too much wine. I don’t know. With Chris, he could’ve been thinking completely coherently. He looked at me. “And let’s toast Brian, who hasn’t had the balls to tell my sister that he’s in love with her.” He threw back the wine.

“Christopher,” snapped Marietta.

Chris grinned, “Shh, mom, I’m not done my speech yet.” He looked at Heather, “And let’s toast my sister, who is so busy writing her stupid romance novels that she doesn’t see the fucking romance that’s right in front of her. Or beside her. To her right.”

Heather glanced at me. Tears in her eyes. She stood up, “You’re such a jerk,” she said to Chris bitterly, and she ran out of the room.

Nick was looking like he was about to throw up.

But he didn’t stand up. He didn’t go after Heather, he didn’t yell at Chris. Nothing. He just sat there looking defeated.

Fine then.

“Chris,” I said, “You asshole, you couldn’t do this somewhere else?”

“Time is of the essence.” He hiccupped.

I bolted out of the room.
Chapter 34 by Pengi
Chapter Thirty Four

Nick

“Yeah, let’s all cheer on Nick,” Chris continued, “Who’s only here because the titty bar down the street doesn’t open until nine.”
Chris kept talking after that, but I tuned him out. Suddenly, the fake lacy pattern on my paper placemat seemed a lot more interesting that what was going on around me. I knew people were staring at me, staring at the stupid idiot that was taking the beloved daughter away from the Hills of Hick Hell, silently blaming me with their eyes for not being Brian, lord of the rednecks.

"Dude, snap out of it."

J was pressing hard on my foot, so hard in fact that my eyes were watering without me realizing it. I blinked rapidly.

"You gonna let him get away with that?" he asked increduously.

I glanced up. Chris' wife, the maid of honor who had just given the lovely speech about Heather's dream of moving to Long John Silvers (or something - I hadn't been paying attention), was clinging to Chris' elbow, whispering furiously at him. Marietta had downed her glass of wine, starting in on Mr. J's glass. Mr. J. looked like he kinda wanted to be back at the hospital...or at least anywhere but there.

And Heather--

Where was Heather?

"Where'd she go?" I asked.

"See?" Chris barked. "He doesn't even realize his fiance ran off upset because he's a maggot scrotum."

I had been called a lot of things in life, but never a maggot scrotum. My chair crashed to the floor as I stood up.

"Take it back," I hissed.

"Or what? You wouldn't hurt yourself over my sister. She's not worth that much to you, is she?"

"Christopher, please, this is our family," Marietta said in a loud whisper. Chris lifted Sandra's glass and downed it.

"You're right, ma. This is our family. And where's Nick's? Oh, that's right. No one in his family can stand him. They don't care that you're ruining our family now because you've already fucked yours up. Is that right?"

I had never understood the phrase 'seeing red' until that second. Suddenly, Chris was bathed in this fiery glow. It was like a target. I scrambled over the table, ignoring the old lady shriek of Heather's grandma. My hands clutched Chris' jacket lapels and we went toppling to the floor.

"Get him Nick!" AJ shouted.

"I'm gonna keel you, J! Grab him!" D shouted.

"I hope Heather wised up and ran off," Chris said, dodging my swing. He grabbed my wrist and twisted. My knee connected with his hip and we rolled around on the ground, our clothes picking up discarded pieces of chicken skin like giant lint rollers.

"If I marry her only to piss you off, I'll be a happy man," I said, just loud enough for him to hear.

"Why you--"

J and D must have finally quit their bickering because they were the ones to scoop us off the ground. AJ did a pretty crummy job of holding me back, doing it more for show than for good cause. Howie went to work smacking the food crumblies off Chris' jacket. I pointed at him, feeling the blood still boiling under the surface.

"You are the brother-in-law from hell," I announced.

"I'm not your brother-in-law yet. And it will be a cold day in hell before I ever claim you."

We both spat at the same time. The globs landed on the ground. Marietta buried her face in her hands.

"Spitting! In a chateau!" she wailed.

I was about ready to tackle Chris again after the spit ritual, but I really did like Marietta too much to do it. Instead, I plucked a green bean off my shoulder and shook J's hand completely off.

"I need to find Heather," I said.

"She probably ran to the bathroom," D offered. "I'll help you look."

"I'll stay here and play damage control," J offered. I saw him give a longing glance at the chicken he had left on his plate. D grabbed the cuff of my jacket.

"Just walk outside before this family kills you," he said, his lips barely moving. I was about to turn around to see exactly how many people were glaring at me, but D moved me forward.

"This is going to be a lovely story to tell your children," he said. Our dress shoes made a loud racket on the hard wooden floors as we headed off towards what would be the real reception hall.

"We're not having children," I said. "Heather's gonna get fixed."

D stopped. "Fixed? Did you just say fixed?"

I didn't want to repeat it. Her lack of emotion when she told me still made me feel all guilty. She had actually told me she didn't want to take care of two children - meaning a baby...and me. Ouch.

"Yeah, that's what I said."

"Nick, she's not a dog."

I ran my hand through my hair. At this point, there wasn't enough wine in the world to motivate me to get into any more arguments.

"You're right," I said.

"I'm right?" D asked. I couldn't remember the last time I had actually told him he was right about something. I held up a hand as I looked behind a heavy dark red curtain. No Heather.

"Yeah, you heard me. You're right. And Heather's lost. So help me find her... So I can keep being wrong."

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

I sat down on a crate labeled Merlot and hugged my knees to my chest, burying my face into the folds of my dress. I didn’t care if the mascara destroyed the fabric. I didn’t care about much at that moment. When the hell had everything fallen apart? Like six months ago, in February, I’d been blissfully happy. I’d been waiting for Nick to propose, waiting for this night. I’d dreamed of it every day, and the dreams hadn’t included Brian.

“Kiddo?” I heard the foot fall on the steps and suddenly Brian was there. He pulled the door at the foot of the stairs closed behind him as he crossed the room and knelt down in front of me. His hands landed on my waist and I lowered my knees to stare into his eyes. Brian stared up at me. “Are you okay, sweetie?”

Tears like Niagra Falls started falling down my face. “No,” I whispered.

Brian got up and sat next to me and I leaned back into him and he held me close to him, his chin resting on my head. He hummed quietly, a song that at first I didn’t recognize. It had been so long since I’d heard it…

It was an old country song, older than either one of us, a song that my father had on vinyl, and then a cassette tape when we were little. It had always seemed like a silly song, until now. I closed my eyes as Brian slowly, quietly began singing it under his breath.

You give your hand to me and you say hello, and I can hardly speak.. my heart is beating so… and anyone could tell. You think you know me well.. but you don’t know me…” He rocked me gently. “No you don’t know the one, who dreams of you at night, who longs to kiss your lips and longs to hold you tight… to you I’m just a friend, that’s all I’ve ever been… but you don’t know me.

“Brian,” I whispered.

He has eyes closed.

Afraid and shy, I let my chance go by… the chance you might have loved me too…

“Brian…”

You give your hand to me, and then you say goodbye, and I watch you walk away, beside the lucky guy… to never, ever know… the one who loves you so… no you, don’t know me.

When he’d finished, he stayed silent, still holding me close to his chest, still with his eyes closed and those tiny tears sneaking out of the corners of his eyes. He’d held me like this once before, sung that song once before. The day our old dog had died and I’d fallen apart. He’d held me on the porch swing at his mom’s and rocked us gently and made me feel so much better. The song hadn’t meant anything to me then, but now, looking back, I wondered.

“Brian,” I whispered.

His eyes creaked open.

Do I know you?”

“No. You don’t.”


---------------------------------------------------------------


Brian

“No. You don’t.”

Heather was shaking in my arms. “I don’t?”

“You don’t.”

She stood up. “Why now? Why not before? Why not when Chris told you?” she asked, her eyes filling with tears. “Why did you wait until now, the night before the wedding, to tell me this stuff?” she shook her head, “Brian, you waited too long, you’re too late now.” She went to the door, her face crumpled and grabbed the handle.

She shook the handle.

She kicked the door.

Heather turned to me, her face pale. “Brian,” she hissed, “The door’s locked.”

“What?”

“We’re locked in.” She grabbed the handle again and yanked. “Oh my God. We’re locked in a cellar.”

I stood up and went up behind her, grabbed the handle myself and pulled. She was right. It really was locked. “Crap,” I muttered.

“Oh my God, we’re locked in.” She turned, pressed her back against the door of the cellar and slid to the floor, her dress pouffing out around her.

I jiggled the lock.

Heather covered her face.

I kept fiddling with the lock.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Heather gasped suddenly, looking up at me.

I sat down next to her. “I did,” I said, “I sent you that letter.”

“The letter that said you loved me like a sister, yeah,” Heather said, rolling her eyes.

I stared at her, “What?”

“The letter, that day on Nick’s bus, when I was in the bathroom?” she said.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding, “I didn’t say anything about sisters in that letter,” I stammered, “I said I’ve loved you since we were little… that I… I wanted you to pick me.”

Heather’s eyes were so full of tears, they looked glassy. She took in a deep breath.

“You didn’t get that letter.”

Heather shook her head. “Brian… if I’d gotten that letter…” she swallowed, “I would’ve picked you.”

I stared at her. “You… you would’ve?”

“Brian, I’ve always loved you.”

“But you’re marrying Nick. You fell asleep…”

“What?”

“When I told you I loved you,” I said, “The night we almost had sex.”

“I was drunk, Brian.”

My throat felt heavy. I stared up at the ceiling. “Heather,” I whispered.

“What?”

“The night of the Whack-a-Mole.”

“Yeah?”

“If Nick hadn’t interrupted us… Were you going to kiss me?”

She stared at me.

A long, agonizing moment passed between us.

And suddenly Heather leaned forward, and our mouths locked. Her tongue slid between my lips and she was leaning into me. I leaned backwards into a case of Chardonnay and Heather was on top of me, her hands in my hair, mine on her back, and our mouths locked.
End Notes:
The song Brian sings has been covered recently by several artists like Michael Buble and Kelly Clarkson, but the version that he is singing is Eddy Arnold. Here's a link to the song... the way it's supposed to sound: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RWYouFPCT5M
Chapter 35 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Thirty Five

Nick

"I've checked out back. The gazebo looks beautiful. The leaves are changing colors and--"

"I don't care what the gazebo looks like. Did you find her?"

"No."

"I checked all the women's restrooms."

D and I both turned to look at J. He grinned, tipping the fedora he wore over his right eye. "Monkee helped me check," he said meekly.

"I've asked the kitchen staff, I've gone into the rooms we're gonna be changing in tomorrow, and I've made sure the car is still here," I ticked off. "She hasn't left."

"I can't believe Chris said that about her writing," D mumbled. "That was really low. You've read her book. Is it really that bad?"

D looked at me expectantly. I found a sudden interest in an ivy that was hanging above AJ's head.

"Well, I haven't really read it since she's redone it for the publisher..." I trailed off.

"You haven't? Why not?"

"She hasn't offered."

"When have you ever waited for an offer?"

It was like I was being attacked by Crackle and Pop. And damn, I was ready to Snap.

"Listen, this isn't about her book, this is about her. What if she fell down and got hurt or--"

"Maybe you should get her one of those Med-Alert bracelets for a wedding gift."

"Where's my daughter?"

The three of us turned before I had a chance to smack the stupid right out of AJ McLean. Marietta was looking directly at me, worry lines etched deeply in her face.

"We're looking," I said gently.

She steeled her shoulders and I wondered if she too was gonna let me have it. Instead she pressed her hip into the doorframe and pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose. It looked like what she was preparing to say was killing her.

"Do I need to call of the wedding?" she asked seriously.

The silence that came afterwards was horrific. I began to play with the lapel flower that had so interested me during the rehearsal. A petal broke off into my hand.

"What? N-No," I stammered. "It's jitters. This whole thing's jitters. Well, besides your son hating me."

Marietta shook her head. "Chris is--" she trailed off. "Chris just wanted something different for his sister."

She didn't say it, but I swear to God that she was thinking, 'we all did.'

"Yeah, well, I'mma gonna prove him wrong," I said. I smacked J and Howie on the shoulders. "Let's split up again. This place isn't that big."

"I'll help," Marietta said. "A mother's intuition is never wrong."

Our eyes met for a second before she turned and headed off down a side hallway. I wanted to ask what her intuition was saying about other things...

But I didn't. I couldn't.

I had a feeling I wouldn't like the answer.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

It was incredible. There I was, trapped in an old wine cellar, nothing but cob-webby boards criss-crossing overhead and a million wooden cases of wine scattered all around, kissing Brian. Brian Littrell.

This was what dreams were made of.

The moment he had said 'Whack-a-Mole' it was all over. Chipped pieces of a completely irratic puzzle were finally shifting into place. Brian did want me. And I wanted him. And I was tired of him being a gentlemen, because I realized that's what he'd always been.

All was right with the world.

At that exact moment, my tongue was pressing against his in a delicious tug-of-war. The subtle hint of fried chicken and tater slaw was better than the actual meal had been. A million times better. Brian's hands gripped the back of my sundress as I felt a sudden breeze on the back of my thighs as he bunched it up.

I didn't want to break the kiss for fear that the spell would end. My lungs felt like they were about to burst as I finally broke away. Air rushed into my body just as heat traveled all the way to the tips of my toes.

Even with just a few dimly lit bulbs hanging over head, I could see lust, a kind of lust I had never seen before, fill Brian's blue eyes. The dress continued to crawl up me.

He wasn't going to let the end of the kiss break the spell. I ran my hands through his hair, my lips following the line of peachfuzz covering his jawline.

"I love you, I love you," I said over and over again. The words just sounded so good when I actually meant them.

"I'm dreaming," he whispered. "I'm..." his hands yanked the dress up over my head. "in heaven."

He wasn't the only one. His hardness pressed against my bare stomach as I pressed one last kiss to his face. I sat up, my hands falling to the dark black buckle.

"You don't know how long I've daydreamed of doing this," I said breathlessly. My fingers fumbled and I realized that I was shaking slightly. I was waiting for an excited 'me too,' but instead Bri shifted his weight slightly.

"While you were writing your book?"

I paused, the belt undone and the zipper only a fourth of the way slid. My eyes widened.

"How do you--"

He had the decency to look guilty. "You left the first manuscript by accident. And I read it."

For a second, I was mortified. Once that feeling passed, I was just...curious.

"And?"

"Eric's me."

I licked my lips, my finger grabbing the zipper once more. "I know."

"You used everything we did and put it in the story. Was I a test dummy?"

Again I paused. My mouth fell open and for a second I didn't know how to respond. When I did, my voice came out like a screech.

"Are you kidding me?"

Bri didn't respond. I saw his Adam's apple bob hard and I realized that he was serious. Dead serious.

"You're my hero," I whispered. "I figured since I couldn't have the real you I would give my character the happily ever after. And I couldn't think of a better prince."

"Heath..."

My heart began to pound out of control. I leaned forward, pressing my lips against his until once again my lungs were depleted of air. I wormed his zipper all the way down.

"I don't want to talk anymore," I said, pulling away. "I want to show you."


- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Brian

I couldn’t breathe. Her fingers on me were like magic and I felt my mind slipping further and further away from reality. The dim lights got dimmer and the room got blurry and Heather’s fingers worked to pull my pants down and travelled back up my legs, to my boxers. She laid between them, her face dangerously close to me. She reached for the opening of my boxers, my hard on pressing against the soft cotton…

And suddenly I realized what we were doing.

“Wait,” I gasped. Even as I said the words, I couldn’t believe that they were coming out of my mouth. Heather looked up at me, concerned. “Wait,” I gasped the word again and used my wrists to pull me out of the position we’d wrangled into. I stared down at Heather’s eyes. “You want to show me that you love me?”

Heather nodded, and started to reach for my pants again, but I reached for her hand and stilled it.

“You need to break up with Nick first,” I said, “Then we can do this.”

Heather’s eyes filled with tears.

“I don’t want to do what he’s done,” I explained, “I don’t want you to be just as bad as him, I don’t want to be the other man.” I reached for her chin, “I don’t want you to be a mistress, I don’t want you to be a – a cheater. If we’re gonna do this…” I said, “We’re gonna do it right.”

Heather nodded.

I licked my lips. “So when we get out of here… you go to Nick, and you tell him.”

Heather nodded again.

“I just love you too much, and I respect you too much, to be without you before you’re mine,” I whispered, “You understand don’t you Heather? I can’t be with you until you pick me.”

Heather nodded a third time.

I smiled and cupped her chin in my hand, looking into her eyes. “You’re beautiful.”

Tears were spilling over her cheeks.

I stood up, leaving Heather there on the floor. She started adjusting her dress while I pulled up my pants, zipped and rebuckled myself. I took a deep breath. When I turned around, she was taking her hair down from the bun that it had been knotted into, and the long blonde curls dropped to her shoulders like corn silk. I closed my eyes, the heady smell of the fermenting wine filling my nostrils.

Suddenly the door burst open and there was Howie. Howie glanced between me and Heather, eyes suspicious but not condemning and he hesitated. A slight nod from me and he turned, “Nick, I found them.”

Nick came bounding down the stairs, a whirlwind of activity and noise and he gasped in relief, “Oh Heather, thank God. Are you okay?” he wrapped his arms around her, pulled her into him and held her tight. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into her ear.

She didn’t pull back.

Nick guided Heather up the stairs, out of the wine cellar, and Howie followed, too. I scrambled after them, carrying my jacket, my shirt untucked. I hurried up beside Heather and Nick and grabbed Heather’s hand. “I’ll wait by the gazebo,” I whispered. “Come find me…after.”

Heather nodded.

And just like that… Nick whisked her away.

Howie came up beside me and pressed a hand onto my shoulder. “Did you…?”

I looked at Howie, square in the eyes. “If she loves me… if she picks me… she’ll come tonight.”
Chapter 36 by Pengi
Chapter Thirty Six

Nick

"Nick, I--"

"Shh," I pressed my finger against Heather's lips. "Let me talk first."

Heather shook her head, obviously ready to argue with me. I wasn't gonna give her the chance. I whisked out my keychain. Howie had put a little bottle of breath freshner on it the night before.

FYI: Howie does weird things when he's drunk.

My keychain scares people. It has a million little gadgets and doo-dads. I've actually fucked up my car ignition before just by the sheer weight. My fingers found a metal cylinder and I lifted it to my mouth.

"Ni--"

The moment I shot the thing, I realized it was pointed the wrong way. Then, as the burning began in my eyes, I also realized it wasn't my breath freshner.

It was my pepper spray. And it had pretty much all gone down Heather's throat.

"Heath!"

It was like something straight out of The Three Stooges. Heath bent over at the waist, her hands grabbing at her throat. Long strings of spit flew from her mouth as she gagged.

Her mom chose that moment to come across us.

"Good Lord in Heaven, what's wrong?" she cried.

I reached out, placing my hand on the small of Heath's back. I was already mentally subtracting a million more family points from my bank. I was so in the red by now.

"She accidentally got a mouthful of pepper spray," I said sheepishly. "I was trying to practice good dental hygiene."

"Pepper--I'll go get some water."

Marietta ran off. Heath sank down to her knees, still gagging. Her eyes were as red as lobsters, the tears pouring down her splotchy skin.

"I'm so sorry," I said. "I just didn't want you to have to deal with the garlic on my breath. Your mom's going to get you some water and then I'm gonna take you home."

She began to shake her head furiously. A loud squeak escaped from her mouth, but nothing more. She tried again with similar results.

"Here honey."

Marietta whirled back into the room, thrusting on the glass of water. Heather took it, downing the thing in one gulp. She silently gagged a few more times. She grabbed onto my forearm and shook her head again. Her mouth opened--

But nothing came out.

That's when I realized that maybe scorching her throat had been a good thing. She had just been locked in a wine cellar. With Brian. Her hair was down. Her clothes were rumpled.

Shit.

"Let's go back to your mom and dad's," I said quickly. "You need to rest. I can't have a mute bride tomorrow, can I?" I smiled charmingly. Marietta touched Heather's mussed up hair.

"Where was she?"

Heather began to make frantic motions. She met my gaze and I just knew what she had been about to tell me. I lifted her to her feet.

"Locked in the wine cellar. She's had a rough night. My bride needs her beauty rest, right?"

Even as I started leading Heather towards the door, her feet were trying to move her in the opposite direction. Her arm waved towards the entrance to the gazebo.

It was Heather's grandma that finally got her to stop squirming. The lady must have been about a hundred and twenty years old. She came up, stooped over and grasping her cane so hard her gnarled hands were pure white. She patted Heather's cheek.

"I'm so glad I lived to see this day," she croaked. "Beautiful girl." I was pretty sure the old bat was blind. Heather didn't look good at all; she held an eerie resemblance to the well girl from The Ring. But Grandma just smiled.

"That man of yours is a hum-dinger," she declared, cackling. "What a dinner." Heather froze. Marietta jumped into action, helping the elder maneuver outside before she could say anything else. I cleared my throat.

"Isn't that nice?" I asked, my voice tense. "She looks like she's on her last leg so it's a really good thing the wedding's tomorrow."

Fresh tears welled up in Heather's eyes. I didn't think it was the pepper spray this time. I pulled her towards the door.

"We wouldn't want to disappoint grandma."

- * - * - * - * - * - * - *- * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

I seriously thought about running away that night. Of crawling out my old bedroom window, down the tree, and running across town to the gazebo. My throat still ached. If it weren't for the unbareable pain that I had been in, I would have kicked Nick down to the ground before he had pulled me away. But I didn't. And even though I knew I was wrong (very wrong), I imagined Brian still there, still waiting...

The last time I wanted to run away from something I was ten, and I’d left my roller skates outside and it had rained and ruined them and my mom, fresh off a fight with my dad, was pissed. She yelled at me and I yelled back and she eventually grounded me. So, typical to a child throwing a fit, I shoved a bunch of stuff into my backpack and grabbed my doll, Heather, and stormed down the stairs, planning to sneak out of the house and disappear. I’d move to New York University and become the first ten year old ever to take an MFA in Creative Writing.

When I wrenched open the door, I found Brian on the front steps. “Whoa, what’cha doin there, kiddo?” he asked, surveying my stuffed backpack and my doll, clutched tightly under my arm.

“I’m … going outside. To play.” I said.

Brian let me take two steps past him, holding the door open for me, then he let the door shut and followed me. He came up behind me, hoisted my backpack on to his shoulder and held out his hand for mine. I stared at it for a long time. “What?” I asked.

“You’re not playing,” he said knowingly, “You’re running away.”

I shrugged, “So what if I am? You wouldn’t care.”

“I do so care,” he argued.

I stared up at his fifteen year old face. “You do not.”

“I do too.”

“Why?”

“Because I’d miss you if you went away.”

And a thought occurred to me. I grabbed his hand, reached for his other hand, and held them close to me. I stared up at his blue eyes. “Run away with me, Brian,” I begged.

He’d blinked in surprise. “What? Kiddo –“ he paused. Then he glanced over his shoulder at the house for a moment before turning back to me. “Let me at least walk you to the bus station,” he suggested, “It’s a long way to go without anyone to talk to.”

That seemed fair, so I let him come along.

We’d walked maybe a half a mile down the road from the house in silence before he suggested we sit down and rest at the school playground. We sat on the swings and Brian rocked his gently while I pumped my legs to touch the sky. He watched me go back and forth beside him. “Why are you running away, kiddo?” he asked.

I told him about my roller skates and being grounded. “It’s not like I wanted to ruin them,” I said.

Brian nodded.

“How come you agreed to walk me to the bus?” I asked.

Brian stared at me. “Because I’m gonna miss you.”

I slowed down pumping. My crush on Brian had, at that point, been in full swing. I was desperately waiting the moment when he’d realize I was the one for him and fall for me. I let my swing glide to a stop. “You came because you wanted to be with me?” I asked.

Brian nodded.

And somehow I’d known right then that everything was going to be okay.


I just needed Brian.

------------------------------------------------------


Brian

I waited in the dark by the gazebo, staring down at my hands as I worked at shredding a cocktail napkin. I glanced at my watch. It had been three hours. I stood up and walked around the side of the chateau, and surveyed the driveway. All the cars, except for mine and Chris’ (and I assume he’d been driven home by his mom after the drunken speech) were gone. I wandered slowly to my vehicle and pulled the door open and crawled inside. It was almost two o’clock at night.

A strange tingling feeling crept over me as I sat there in the dark. I wished that I’d gone for it in the cellar. I wished I’d pulled her dress off and ravished her right there with the wine crates surrounding us because – as much as Nick would love to brag otherwise – I know I could make Heather scream harder than Nick could ever dream of doing.

She would’ve picked me for the sex alone.

Maybe, I thought, if we’d had sex in the cellar she wouldn’t have even bothered going with Nick to tell him. Maybe he’d have walked in on us, maybe he would’ve seen she picked me all by himself – seen it in his own stupid shocked face in the reflection of the sweat that working me would produce on Heather’s skin. Maybe he’d hear it in her moans and noises when she was screaming my name with more passion than she’d ever screamed his.

I set my jaw and shoved my key into the ignition and started driving home, my fingers tight around the steering wheel, my heart slamming in my chest. I had all I could do not to drive to the Johnsons’, grab Heather, and make love to her with every last fiber of my being. I didn’t care if Nick was laying in bed right beside her. Let him watch.

I was trembling with fury by the time I got home.

I was better for Heather. Didn’t she see that? Didn’t she understand that Nick was no good for her, that all he wanted was a security deposit on life? He wanted to know that in the end, no matter how much he fucked up over the next few years, he’d have a pretty little thing waiting for him. And Heather was a sucker, she was letting him use her.

Then again, I’d let Heather use me hadn’t I?

Show me, indeed.

She’d wanted a character, not a relationship. She’d shred my heart into a hundred tiny little pieces and left me – literally – standing in the dark at the gazebo.

How long, I wondered, would it be before Eric was standing at the gazebo waiting for Holly?
Chapter 37 by Pengi
Chapter Thirty Seven

Nick

I woke up the day of the wedding feeling horrible. I knew the game all too well by now. Heather would be about to tell me something I didn't want to hear and I'd do my damndest to get her away from the situation. It usually cooled her down.

Considering I hadn't gotten a phone call in the middle of the night, I assumed that my plan had once again worked.

But deep down I had to ask myself: did I really want it to work?

If I were to lay all the cards down on the table, I'd admit that Heather infuriated me. She was the type of girl who had book smarts but not street smarts. She couldn't make up her mind to save her life; she didn't really have a backbone. Did I really want someone like that for the mother of my children? The type of girl who could just go with me everywhere without a life of her own? Brian liked that kinda over-indulgent attention.

I loved the idea of 'welcome home' blow your mind out sex. I appreciated a woman who had her own goals in life.

I appreciated Lauren.

Heather hadn't even so much as looked at me when I dropped her off at her parent's house the night before. I had gone to the hotel, turned on a dirty movie, and spent my last night alone superimposing Lauren's face on the body of the hot chick on the 52" flat screen.

I rolled out of bed. After a quick shower, I hunkered down at the table and ate a whole box of cereal. Most people would have loved the view from my room, but all I saw (and smelt) was the manure-scented state of Kentucky. I couldn't imagine coming back for every holiday and dealing with Chris...

I knew what I had to do.

Now all I had to do was do it.



Twenty minutes later, I had the entire male half of the wedding party (sans Chris and Brian) ready to go to the chateau. D stared at me silently.

"Are we still going?" he asked. J looked up too, his fingers falling from his fly that he was moving up and down trying to prove that it did sound a little bit like 'Zippity-Doo-Da.'

"We're still going," I said firmly. What I had to say had to be said in person. Even I wasn't tacky enough to just make a phone call.

"But are we--" D continued, but I moved towards the door, cutting him off.

"Don't ask questions," I said.

"I've got this under control."

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Heather

"I need to call Brian."

"Honey you're in the middle of getting your hair done. You're going to have to wait."

"I don't want to wait. This is important."

I saw mom's reflection in the mirror. "Heather, honey, what are you doing?"

My throat still felt singed. I winced as I swallowed. "What do you mean?"

"As a little girl you always knew what you wanted to do...even if it wasn't what I wanted you to do," she said softly. "So why did things get so complicated now? How did you fall apart?"

Those words coming from my mother felt like a slap and a hug at the same time. My fingers curled around the salon chair. I had still been half asleep (oversleeping, actually) when mom dragged me up and out. I had come alive after a cup of coffee that was more sugar than caffeine.

"I don't know," I said honestly. "But if you--"

The little bell over the door of the salon twinkled merrily. I suspected my bridesmaids had arrived, but I couldn't turn to look. But mom could. She gasped.

"Good morning, Brian."

"Mornin' Marietta. I was wondering if I could talk to Heather for a minute."

Mom and I shared a look in the glass. Even the stylist joined in. Both of them took a step back.

"I gotta see if there's more gel in the back. Marietta, wanna come with me?"

"Sure Darlene. Lead the way."

Both women gave Brian one more hearty look before walking into the store room. Without the fear of being burned by a curling iron, I was free to move. I swiveled the chair around and took a deep breath.

"I'm glad you came," I said gently. "I can explain."

His hands were shoved deep in his pockets. For a second I wondered why he wasn't already at the chateau, but it didn't seem important. The bags under his eyes told me he hadn't slept.

"You already made your point clear," he said angrily. "What did Nick say to you this time to get you crawling back?"

The coffee in my stomach suddenly turned to acid. "He sprayed pepper spray in my mouth," I countered. "I couldn't speak. I--"

"Did your feet stop working? Do you know how long I spent out in that gazebo? Damnit Heather, I'm a fucking idiot when it comes to you. I can't get you out of my head and yet you keep running back to Nick. I never thought I would say this but--" his whole body seemed to swell in front of me. "you two deserve each other. I'm just not going to stick around to see it happen."

With that, Bri spun around. I scrambled out of the chair.

"Brian, no!"

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


Brian

Heather caught my arm. “Brian, please,” she begged.

I froze. I couldn’t speak. My stomach was so worked up I felt like if I opened my mouth vomit would come out – though I hadn’t eaten anything since the dinner the night before, and honestly I’d only picked at that. I was shaking I was so emotionally distraught. I’d sat up all night in the car for most of it because I couldn’t bring myself to drive home. I’d driven around half the damn state of Kentucky with a country music station blaring. I’d stumbled in extremely early that morning and fallen asleep on my mom’s couch instead of my own bed, even. Harold, my brother, had woken me up when he arrived to go to the wedding with my parents with the line aren’t you like IN the wedding dude? and I’d replied, I should be the fucking groom.

“Don’t leave,” Heather whispered. “I understand why you’re mad at me Brian, but what happened last night wasn’t my fault.”

I set my jaw.

She came up behind me, snaked her arms around my waist, and pressed her face into my back. I could feel her tears through my shirt, soaking into my shoulder blades. “Your heart is beating so fast,” she whispered. Heather’s hands had raised from my waist to my chest and her palm was stretched across my scar. I closed my eyes.

”What’s that?” Heather was five. I was ten. We were at the creek, I’d just taken off my shirt to go swimming with Chris when Heather pointed out the scar that slashed across my chest. At the time it was scarlet red and reflecting the sun like the hot dot stickers the school passed out at Halloween.

“That’s where they opened up Brian and stuck their hands in and swirled around,” Chris answered, laughing.

Heather’s eyes had widened.

“My heart had to get fixed,” I answered quietly. I stared down at my chest, my cheeks burning. The scar had always embarrassed me. It was the worst part of being a heart disease survivor, the scar that never faded, like an ugly bulletin board proclaiming ‘I’m damaged’.

“Why was your heart broken?” Heather asked, gawking at the scar.

“It was born broken,” I answered.


“And it’ll always be broken,” I whispered now. I shrugged Heather off of me… and walked out the door, closing it behind me.

In the hallway, I bumped into Nick. Half dressed in his tuxedo, he looked like a penguin that had been through the propeller of a boat. His hair was disheveled, his shirt untucked and unbuttoned and his eyes wild with determination. We collided halfway down the long central hallway of the chateau. He caught my shoulders before I ricocheted off of him to the floor, and started to apologize until he realized who I was. He stopped mid-word and gnawed his lower lip, staring down at the carpet.

“You win,” I said quietly, “Congratulations.”

I pushed by him, heading for the door.

“If you call it winning,” he said.

I shoved out the front door of the chateau, took the steps down the porch two at a time, and whipped around and started throwing up into the flower bed. My grip on the porch rail shook and I felt like I could barely keep myself up. My knees weakened and I dropped to them in the dewy, Kentucky grass.

“Brian?” I looked up, wiping my mouth, and saw Chris standing in front of me on the porch. He climbed down the steps and helped me to my feet. “What the hell is going on?” Chris asked, “Are you okay? Dude, why aren’t you dressed?”

“I quit,” I whispered, “Nick wins, I give up. I-“

Chris’ eyes were sad.

“You told her,” he said quietly.

“And I waited by the gazebo for hours last night, and she chose Nick,” I completed the story.

Chris sighed.

“C’mon,” he said, “I’ve got brandy in my dressing room.”
Chapter 38 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Thirty Eight

"Nick, you've got five minutes before you have to be up in that gazebo.  Jesus, put your pants on. I'm sick of staring at your ass."

AJ snickered and tossed a handful of nuts in the air. His head swiveled like a fish out of water as he tried to nab every last one.

"I've got to talk to Heather," I blurted for the tenth time.

"Then talk to her," Howie said for about the eighth time (he had ignored the first two outbursts).

I felt like a dog that had gotten shot in its hind leg. I wanted to just run across the chateau, burst into the bridal room and call it off.

Something was stopping me.  And I was pretty sure that something was Brian.

You win, he had said.  The deepest neanderthal part of me really loved the fact that I had won.  And that was the part keeping me from doing what I should be doing.

It was the dumbass part of me that was going to push me through the wedding today.

"Fuck," I growled.  I needed to hit something. I curled my fingers into a fist and propelled my arm into the leather couch.  The hard material stung my palms.  AJ slightly bounced, glancing wide eyed at the cushion beside him.

"What did the couch ever do to you?" he complained.

"You know what your problem is," Howie said quietly. I turned to look at him.

"You're too irresistible.  You're like Mary and you have all these little lambs following you."

"Dude, pork chops sound good right now."

D and I both glared at Bone. He lifted another handful of nuts and shrugged. "Sorry, they do!"

"What are you saying D?" I asked. Usually, I would have a talk with Brian, but since Bri was part of this whole fiasco, that was kinda out of the question.

"You need to follow your heart."

"I don't know where my heart is," I said.

"Well then," Howie trailed off and for a second I thought he had fallen asleep standing up. Instead his eyes opened and his right one went into three consecutive winks.  "You need to figure it out. And fast."

He turned then, making an excuse about checking on Leigh and James. I grabbed my pants, the fish tacos I had for lunch threatening to come up.  Howie hadn't understood what I was saying.

My heart was with Lauren Kitt.

But I didn't know where she was.

My heart was lost.



"Why are there bees in October?" AJ hissed in my ear.

"It's the flowers," I whispered back.  I pressed my thumb to my necktie.  For a second I thought if I pressed hard enough I'd sever my windpipe.

For the last ten minutes, I had been standing there flanked by Andrew, AJ, and Howie.  Chris and Brian had both ditched. I jumped as the music started from out of the blue.

In a panic, I looked out at the crowd.  At the last moment my sister Angel had come.  She gave me a thumbs up from the front row.

Shit.

"Here."

D's elbow nudged my side. I looked down. He was holding a hanky. I stared at him in confusion.

"You're sweating like a pig," he whispered.

I took the cloth and pressed it to my forehead. The perspiration soaked right through.

Two minutes before I was due at the gazebo, I had tried to break into the bridal room. Two of the bridesmaids had cut me off at the pass with something about bringing bad luck if I saw Heather. I had wanted to tell them that we were already floating in the muck of bad luck, but my tongue became tied.

And now here I was.

It was mind numbing watching as the bright, smiling girls headed towards me and began to line up on the left side of the gazebo.  The hanky in my hand was soaking up the sweat coming from my palms.

Could I ditch her right at the alter?  Could I--

All of a sudden, everyone rose and turned. My head snapped up in confusion.

That's when I saw her.

She was beautiful. It was almost like looking at Heather the very first time I had ever met her.  She clutched her bouquet of red roses close to her chest taking little tentative steps as she walked the runner alone.  Her eyes met mine.  My heart squeezed as I suddenly realized we were both losers at this stupid game of love.

And maybe that just meant we needed each other now more than ever.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *


 Heather

When Nick turns his head sometimes, he gets these rolls of skin along his neck and chin. When he smiles like this, he looks kinda funny. Unless he really smiles. When he really smiles, his dimples crawl around the edges of his mouth, forming parenthesis from his chin to his nose. His straight, perfectly white teeth show, and his eyes sparkle. No, they don’t sparkle. They twinkle. There’s a difference. Sparkle is more mature of a thing. Twinkle is a little mischievous.

Nick’s always been mischievous.

The twinkle might’ve been dimmed… but Nick was really smiling when he turned to face me. His eyes were sad, almost resigned. I’m sure mine were, too. After all, neither of us were getting our true loves in the end, were we? We were settling. We were two misfits; misfits who had broken each other down, run off each other’s loves, and ended up alone except for one another in the end.

That’s the only thing that kept me walking.

My heart pounded in my chest with each dangerously balanced Jimmy Choo step I took towards him – it felt like it was swelling, like it was going to eventually fill my chest cavity like a balloon being inflated. Maybe even larger. Maybe, it would be so inflated it would show through my skin and I’d expand and grow like the blueberry girl in Willy Wonka or – or maybe I would over flow.

”Say when,” Brian laughed, pouring milk to go with the cookies my mom had baked.

I watched the milk slowly filling the glass. “Okay, that’s enough,” I laughed. But Brian’s didn’t stop. “Stop,” I said, my voice starting to panic. The milk kept pouring, “Brian stop it! Brian!”

He’d let the milk get right to the rim and he’d stop – the milk with that weird membrane phenomenon that happens when liquid is on the cusp of spilling over, but has not yet. You know, when it looks like it already has? He’d look me right in the eyes and say, “You didn’t say when.”


I was trembling as I reached the gazebo stairs. The shoes felt tight and tall on my feet. Nick held out his hand. I stared at it.

I took a step back.

Nick’s eyes softened, like he was looking at a foal about to panic. “Heath,” he whispered.

I sucked in my breath – not for courage or strength, but to say good bye. I opened my mouth and --

”STOP.”


-------------------------------------------------------------------------


Brian

”STOP.”

My voice carried across the guests heads, was stronger than the sound of the piano-on-tape they had playing from a pathetic, remote-controlled boombox on the side of the gazebo.

Heather turned, Nick looked up.

The minister squinted against the sunlight to see me.

I strode across the grass to the runner. Guests were still standing from the bridal march; they turned, looked at me, and many started whispering to each other. Marietta’s face was flushed, her eyes wide. Mr. Johnson’s eyes were teared up and he was nodding in my direction.

Nick’s arm dropped to his side as I neared, and he took a step backwards, away from the girl, in defeat. Heather looked like she’d seen a ghost.

I stopped a foot away from her. I’d put on my tux, I’d combed my hair. I took her hand. “Heather,” I said, staring at her eyes. It was as though nobody else was in the room. I focused completely on her. I took a deep breath. “Heath, when you were four, and we colored together, I let you use the red crayon. Even when I wanted it. During that Indian Summer when you were seven, there was only one popsicle left on the ice cream truck – it was orange, my favorite one – and I let you have it. When you needed help with Algebra, I tutored you. When you were sick with the chicken pox in sixth grade, I pretended I had them too so you wouldn’t be lonely. You had four dots on your nose. Remember? And you were afraid you’d look like a dice.” I squeezed her hand. “When you were stood up for your prom and you were crying in that pretty dress of yours – I took you and I danced with you. When your Daddy fell out of a tree… I promised you I would walk you down the aisle.” I stared at her fingers. They were trembling. “I can’t keep that promise, Heather.”

“Brian,” she said, her eyes pleading.

“Shh, let me finish,” I whispered. I dropped her hands. I reached into my suitcoat pocket. “Heather,” I said, “I can’t keep that promise because…” I slowly dropped to my knees. “I don’t want to walk you down the aisle. I want to be waiting at the end.” I opened the ring box and held it aloft.

The perfect diamond. The one Nick had refused to buy, the one that he couldn’t buy when he’d tried to because it had already been purchased by another customer --- me.

Gasps filled the air behind me.

I stared up at her.

Tears were falling down her cheeks. “Brian,” she whispered, “I –“

I said quietly, “I’m not the kinda guy that walks in on weddings and kneels down to propose to the bride… I am begging you… choose me. Pick me. Love me, Heather.”

Silence filled the air.

Heather knelt down, staring into my eyes. The taffeta and frills of the Vera Wang skirt ballooned out around her. “I love you, Brian.”

HELL YEAH!” Heather and I both turned. Chris was standing on the back steps of the chateau. He realized everyone was looking at him for his outburst and shrugged. “What? C’mon, like you guys didn’t wanna yell that too?” he shook his head, “Dude, Brian –“ I raised my eyebrow. “Fricking kiss her already, you ass.”

I looked at Heather.

She smiled.

And we kissed.
Chapter 39 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Thirty Nine

It was kind of like sitting in a theatre watching a Disney movie, except it was happening in real life right before my eyes. Brian was kissing Heather and she looked happier than she had ever looked kissing me. I was beginning to wonder if we should have a portable oxygen tank on stand-by when they finally pulled apart. They stared in each other's eyes for the longest time before Heather turned to me. She slid off my engagement ring. I held out my hand and she placed it into my palm.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. I knew she truly meant it. I smiled.

"No, thank you."

"Thank me? For what?"

I had over two hundred eyes on me and yet I knew I had to say what I had meant to say for a long time.

"I don't love you like you should be loved. That job," I pointed at Bri. "belongs to this guy. So give him your hand so he can put the ring on your finger already."

Bri grinned at me, a stupid corncob grin that I hadn't seen on his face since this whole fiasco started. Heather turned to him and her hand literally shook from excitement as he held it steady, sliding the ring on. Genuine tears welled up in her eyes.

"This is perfect," she said.

At that moment, her family descended on her like vultures, including Chris who shouldered me out of the way. I staggered back, watching the whole scene play out. I almost expected little forest animals to come out and head over to the happy couple to complete the perfectness of it all.

"Damn," AJ whispered. He held out a cigar.

"I was saving this for the celebration at the reception, but I think you need this now."

I laughed, actually laughed. I waved it away.

"It's okay."

D was staring at me, a whole wealth of knowledge in his eyes. "You going?"

I smiled. It looked like the reception was going to turn into an engagement party. Not to be a party pooper, but I didn't want to be there for it. I ran a hand through my hair and then slid off my tie.

"I don't want to waste the trip," I confirmed.



My plane touched down twelve hours later in Nassau. The temperature was 82, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and I was going on my honeymoon...

Alone.

I grabbed my bag down from the overhead compartment and I paused for a minute, my eyes flicking to the bathroom. I couldn't help but grin, remembering how Lauren looked flopped backwards, her bare chest exposed. I loved the feeling of unknown with her.

A feeling I was going to get back. Somehow, somewhere. I was going to find her.

"Everything okay, sir?" the stewardess asked. I held onto the strap of the duffel, nodding.

The air smelled slightly floral as I walked down the tunnel. All around me, people were either walking hand-in-hand with the person they came with or joyously running towards the person they were meeting. Love was in the air.

Trying not to start a pity party for myself, I walked through the terminal until I hit the escalator. I had my hand wrapped around it, slowly heading down when my eyes caught a familiar sight. I blinked several times, sure I had somehow fallen into a Where's Waldo? book.

Except this book was entitled Where's Lauren?"

There she was, holding a large sign in front of her with big black letters that said 'I Love You, Carter.' She met my eyes and gave me the most nervous smile I had ever seen grace her face.

I wasn't consciously aware of my feet moving, but they did. They took the escalator stairs, too impatient to wait for it to silently coast down. I pushed people out of my way, getting dirty looks and a few 'watch it's!' But I didn't care. I slid to a stop in front of her, my chest seconds from exploding. For a long while, I just studied her face. A wisp of dark hair was hanging in her eye. I brushed it away.

"It's really you," I said in awe.

"Yup."

"How'd you find me?"

"I had a spy."

"A spy?"

"I heard the wedding didn't go as planned."

"It was the right choice," I said.

"Oh?"

I wrapped my hands around the top of the sign. "Lauren, I love you. Just you. My world ended the day you said I'd never see you again. You're the right girl for me."

Glistening tears filled her eyes. "I'm so glad you said that," she whispered. She dropped the sign and I wrapped her in my arms, my lips crushing hers. Her nails dug into my neck and my hands dropped to her waist...

A round waist.

She held onto my lower lip even as I pulled back. I stared down, my eyes widened.

"Laur..."

I hesitated to say what I was thinking. I had already been down this road with Heather and gotten screamed at. Maybe Lauren had just been sitting in front of the TV drowning her sorrow in Ben and Jerry's. Maybe...

"I found out I was the day I learned that Heather wasn't," she said.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to be your choice by default," she said. I shook my head. I was going to be a...a...dad.

"You'd never win by default," I said. I pulled her to me, my lips pressing into her hair.

"Thank you," I whispered.

Her voice was muffled into my chest. "For what?"

I laughed, blinking back the tears.

"For the happily ever after."

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -


Heather

"This guy...this guy right here. He's gonna be my brother-in-law. And I love him!"

I laughed as Chris crushed his lips onto Brian's cheek. The amber liquid in his glass sloshed over the edge. Dad gave a hardy over-the-head clap and then grabbed his beer. Mom was gnawing on a roll left over from the meal.

My entire family was toasted.

"Now you'll never get rid of me," Brian teased. He looked out at the crowd, searching. When his gaze landed on me, his smile widened.

"To little sugars!" dad declared. Dozens of cups lifted in the air.

"Sugars!"

After the whole gazebo fiasco, I had changed out of the dress I hated and into a white sundress. The reception had quickly been converted into an engagement party for anyone that had wanted to stay. Nick's sister had left in a huff, but most everyone else had stayed. While dad launched into a story about me getting my head stuck in the stair banister when I was three, I wove around my aunts and uncles, coming to a stop next to Bri. He wrapped his arm around me and I leaned into him.

"So about those sugars..." he teased. I laughed, but the laugh was cut short as his lips grazed my neck. I let out a warm breath of absolute contentment. My thoughts left the chateau.

"I have this hotel suite rented for tonight," I murmured. Bri's soft peach fuzz ran over my chin. His grip tightened on my waist.

"Oh?"

I licked my lips. "Yeah, it's really nice and," Bri's hand dipped lower. The cool autumn air suddenly got warmer. "and big."

"Big?"

I suddenly forgot what we were talking about. I fanned myself and took one step away from him. "Is it warm in here?" Bri's eyes crinkled. "Nope."

"Hunh."

He slid his now free hands into his pockets. "But you know what?"

"What?"

"You look tired."

"I--I do?"

He nodded. His eyes told me that he didn't really think I was tired. "Maybe we should cut out early."

My heart tripped. That morning I thought I would have Nick slobbering all over me by evening's end. And now--

"That sounds like a good idea," I squeaked.

"You're not nervous are you, baby?"

Baby. Not kiddo. Baby. We had officially crossed over. I snuggled back into him, my hands grazing up his back.

"Of course I'm not nervous," I said softly.

"I've been waiting for this all my life."

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -


Brian

“Let me see them one more time.” I took the box back from Nick and pushed the tissue paper aside and stared down at them. I took a deep breath. “Okay.” I started to relinquish my grip on the box, but then I thought of something and snatched it back.

“Bri, do you want me to give them to her or not?” Nick whined.

“Oh hush up,” I snapped. “Gimme a Sharpie.”

Like magic, Howie stuck a Sharpie over my shoulder violently, almost clocking me in the ear drum.
Nick watched as I scrawled my message onto the white leather. A smile spread across his face. “She’ll like that.”

“I know,” I answered. I blew on the ink to dry it, then shoved the box at Nick. “Okay, go.”

He ducked out, a man on a mission.



I was standing on the end of the pier. Chris stood behind me, and Nick behind him with Connor on his hip in a baby sling. Connor had the teeny-tiniest top hat I’d ever seen strapped to his head. Across the pier from me stood Sandra and Lauren, who had Corey on her hip, also with a tiny top hat. Leave it to Nick to go from not wanting any kids to having twins.

Chris grabbed my shoulder. “You ready?” he whispered.

“I’ve been ready since like kindergarten dude,” I answered.

Chris laughed, “A five year old and an infant never would’ve made it.”

I swallowed.

Nick laughed as the last bridesmaid came to a stop behind Lauren and Corey, “There’s no other childhood friends that’re gonna run in yelling stop right? Cos this is their cue if there is.”

Chris turned and stared at Nick.

“Yeah I know, I’m a maggot scrotum, whatever..” Nick leaned back.

Chris laughed, “Actually you aren’t half bad when you aren’t with my sister.”

“Shut up,” I whispered.

They both looked up.

They saw what I saw – I know because they both shut up.

The sunset was splashing pink-golden light across the beach, illuminating the Italian coast like it was liquid. She’d just reached the end of the pier in her white gown, with the teal sash around the waist. Her hair was down, curling across her shoulders. She held a tiny bouquet of wild flowers that she, Marietta and Lauren had gone picking that morning. Mr. Johnson had his right arm crossed over his body to hold her hand and his left around her waist from behind. He was whispering in her ear as they came to a stop at the end of the pier.

The wedding march started, played on a keyboard by my mother.

Everyone shifted to look at her – bathed in the light of the sun as it reached across the ocean towards the city beyond. Mr. Johnson began leading her up the center between the people. Her eyes never left mine.

’I love you’ she mouthed as she walked.

’I love you more’ I mouthed back.

’Thank you’ she answered. Then she cast her eyes down and lifted her skirt ever so slightly.

I smiled as the pair of teal Converse that I’d made Nick carry over to her dressing room earlier peeked out from under her skirt… on the right toe, I’d scrawled out a heart with the letters B.L. & H.J.… on the left, I’d done the same… except I’d made it H. L.

After all… she would be after she’d worn them.

Mr. Johnson and Heather arrived at the end of the pier, and he turned her in his arm and hugged her tight to his chest. He lifted her hand softly and placed a kiss on her center knuckle, staring into her eyes with tears in his own. “I could not have chosen a better man to take my place in your life,” he whispered.

“Oh daddy,” Heather whispered back, “Nobody’ll ever take your place.”

Mr. Johnson lowered Heather’s hand and turned to me, gently led his daughter to me, and dropped her hand in mine. “Take care of her, Brian,” he said.

“Yes sir,” I whispered, “I will, sir.”

He smiled, “I know.” He turned and moved to Marietta, who he squeezed a little extra tightly when he wrapped his arms around her.

I looked at Heather.

She looked back at me.

And we said our vows.
Epilogue by Pengi
Epilogue

Heather

“OH MY GOD!”

“Breathe, baby. Breathe… BREATHE. We practiced for this.”

“WE DID NOT PRACTICE FOR THIS!” I screamed. I think I was cutting off Brian’s circulation.

He didn’t seem to care. He was clutching my hand, but stretched as far as our linked arms would allow him to go, staring in between my legs over the doctor’s shoulder. “I SEE HER!” he bellowed. “I SEE HER.”

“IS SHE – OOOOOOOWWWWWW! BEAUTIFUL?” I wailed.

“She—she—looks like a fuzzy round thing coming out of your vagina sweetie, I can’t tell yet. But I’m sure she’s gorgeous!” he added hurriedly.

“Push, Mrs. Littrell.”

It had been a year since we’d been married and I still felt a rush of joy whenever someone called me Mrs. Littrell. Brian was hopping foot to foot and I squeezed the life out of his hand. “Oh my Lordie-Lord-Lord, baby. She – I see – it’s her face. Oh my Lordie-Lord…” he was fanning himself with his free hand.

He bounced to my side, pressed a kiss against my cheek as I huff-puffed and frolicked back to the end of my arm’s length. “Oh baby, baby, she’s beautiful. You’re doing so good.”

“One more push, Mrs. Littrell,” the doctor said joyfully.

“You hear that baby? One more push!” Brian scampered to my side and leaned over me, staring into my eyes. He clutched my hand to his chest. “One more push and we’ll be have our lil sugar.”

I stared into his eyes.

A moment later, there was a cry and the nurses set to work cleaning off our baby. Brian was bouncing foot to foot and I could hear his massive white sneakers scuffling the floor as he moved. They were quieted by the blue bootie things they’d made him put over his shoes. He looked like a scrub nurse all dolled up in the hospital garb.

I heard a nurse coo and a baby’s whimper, then the doctor’s voice – low and gentle – “Here you are, Mr. Littrell.”

I struggled to lean forward to see Brian take her into his arms.

His hands slid along her back, cradling her to his body. He stared down at her, his blue eyes sparkling bright with tears. He stared into her face, his breathing slowed, his chest barely rising and falling as he stared, hypnotized by her. The first of the tears escaped his eyes and slid down his cheek, into the hollow of his jaw bone and slipped over his chin. He looked up at me, his face en raptured. “Heather,” he whispered, “She has your eyes.”

It was exactly what I’d always hoped he would say.

He carried her over to me and rested her into my arms softly. I held her and smiled down into her perfect face. I glanced up at Brian and smiled. “Hey Allison,” he whispered.

“Hi baby,” I whispered quietly.,

“Hey kiddo,” he added, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

I looked up at his face. “Brian?” I whispered.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“So which one of Nick’s twins do you think she’s gonna marry?”

Brian’s face paled. “Oh sweet Jesus,” he whispered.
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