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Story Notes:

I have fanfic ADD.  This is a sequel to Falling in Love Again, but as the genre is going to be different, I'm planning to include enough backstory to not give away the whole prequel, but so that anyone who isn't necessarily interested in reading the other one isn't totally lost.

 

 

 

“What the--?”   Nick dropped the hand towel he was using onto the bathroom countertop and reached for the tiny, platinum wedding band resting in the empty soap dish, his hands still damp from washing them.  He rolled the slippery metal between his thumb and forefinger and squinted as he examined it carefully.  He was pretty sure it belonged to who he thought it belonged to, but he hadn’t seen it in months, and the thought that he was seeing it now scared him a little.  The last he knew, it had been boxed up and put away in the attic for safe keeping, so actually, seeing it today scared him a lot.  He gulped and stared at it, and the longer he stared at it, the more his hand started to shake.  Why now?  After all this time?  Mentioning it to her seemed like a bad idea.  The last thing he wanted to do was start a fight, especially today.  


The wind outside roared, and a tree branch just outside the little porthole window in the bathroom cracked.  Curious, he looked out. The sun was shining brightly, and the morning dew glistened in the sunlight, lifting off the grass and forming a light fog that hovered above the grass in the backyard.  Nick gasped when he saw him standing there, about halfway in between the deck and the tall wooden fence bordering the yard.  Then the man waved. Nick lost his grip on the ring.  It fell to the floor and rolled into the baseboard, just narrowly missing the slats of the air conditioner vent.  Nick breathed a sigh of relief and stooped down to pick it up.  When he looked back out the window, the man was gone.  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “You’re too nervous, Nick,” he said to himself under his breath.  He placed the ring back in the soap dish and hung the towel back on the towel rack.  


As he was going back out into the hallway, his cell phone rang.  He pulled it out of his jeans pocket and looked at the screen to see who it was.  “Do you believe in ghosts?” he asked hastily as he brought the phone up to his ear to answer it.  


“Do I what?”  Brian asked on the other end of the line.


“Do you believe in ghosts?”  He said again.  “Angels? Apparitions? Warning signs?”


His friend chuckled.  “What is this, Nick?  Some new movie plot you’re cooking up?”Nick opened his mouth to answer then closed it back again. He jogged down the hall into his bedroom and shut the door.   “Nick?”


“Uh-- yeah.  Something like that.”  He sighed.  Perhaps this was the type of thing he best keep to himself.


“You sound nervous, buddy.  You okay?”


Nick gulped.  “I’m good,” he said quietly.


“I bet you’re just wound up about tonight. Are you ready, by the way?”


Nick shrugged, but then realized that Brian couldn’t see him shrugging.  “I don’t know,” he answered honestly.  


“Well, let’s just talk about the show,” Brian said brightly.  “What time is rehearsal again?”


“We’ve got the stage from 11 to 12.”


“Good.  We should make it into Nashville just in time, then.  Just chill out.  Everything’s gonna be great!”


“I hope so...”  Suddenly, Nick wasn’t so sure.


“I promise!  See you soon.”


“See ya, man.”  Nick ended the call and stuffed his cell back in his pocket.  He leaned his back against the door and looked up at the ceiling.  Maybe he’d just been seeing things outside, but that ring was definitely real.

 

 **********

“First, you’re a Backstreet Boy, then you’re a solo artist but still a Backstreet Boy, and now you’re the drummer in my band?”  Annie Morgan asked her boyfriend, placing her hands on her hips with an amused smirk.


“And still a Backstreet Boy,”  Adam the guitarist laughed from the other side of the stage.


Nick grinned sheepishly and  shrugged as he spun one of the drumsticks he was holding with his fingers.  “It’s just for tonight.  Lenny’s carpal tunnel was apparently flaring up really bad this morning, and we needed someone to fill in, so... Surprise!” He held his hands up with a dramatic flair and the drumsticks toppled to the floor,  clanging off a cymbal and  bouncing off a snare drum on the way down.  Annie laughed, but inside, her first inclination was an intense desire to call Lenny and make sure he was taking an anti-inflammatory and resting his wrists.  The doctor inside her was always going to be there, even if she was no longer actively practicing.  She watched as Nick bent over to pick up his drumsticks and smiled.  She loved that Nick Carter, an international pop star, was on a first name basis with her contemporary Christian backup band. His use of the word, “we” when referring to them didn’t go unnoticed.  Of course, then again, he did happen to be listed in the album credits as one of the producers on this song in particular, which they would be performing at the Dove Awards that night.


“Am I late?” Brian Littrell asked as he trudged through a side door of Ryman Auditorium with his wife and son trailing close behind him.  


“Nope,”  Annie answered quickly.  “You’re just in time  for Nick here to start practicing with us on drums.”  She stretched out her arm, gesturing towards her boyfriend, who was now twirling his drumsticks with both hands as he skimmed over the sheet music on the stand to his left.


“When did that happen?”  Brian asked, making his way onto the stage.  


“About fifteen minutes ago,” Nick answered matter-of-factly.  “Lenny’s got carpal tunnel, and I’ve got mad percussion skills.”  Brian ran across the hardwood and stopped in front of the drums.  He grabbed the chipped, black painted sticks out of Nick’s hands and played three beats, the first two on the drums, and the third on the hi-hat cymbal.  Ba-dum-ching!  “Well, that’s not very nice,” Nick deadpanned.  Baylee cackled from his seat on the front row.  Annie placed a hand over her mouth and stifled a giggle as Nick winked in her direction.

Brian laughed and handed the drumsticks back to his friend and bandmate.  “You ready to accept that ‘Song of the Year’ award with us tonight, Mr. Carter?”  


At the mention of their nomination, Nick’s heart started beating wildly.  It was funny how life could change so dramatically in less than a year.  Last October, he’d hopped on a plane headed to Atlanta because it was the first flight out of Los Angeles he was able to get a first class seat on.  Subsequently, he’d ended up on Brian’s doorstep, sloppy drunk after a cute stewardess kept bringing him drinks, and that’s where he met Annie.  After their initial meeting, he was pretty sure she hated him, but luckily, first impressions didn’t always stick.  He was reeling from a bad breakup, and she was a single mother who wasn’t quite ready to move on.  The chase to “get the girl” had definitely been the longest and hardest of his life.  Totally worth it, though.  


As it turned out, Annie and Brian were recording a duet in Brian’s in-home studio for his second Christian album, and Nick ended up doing most of the mixing on the sound board and throwing in his two-cents on harmonies and arrangement. That version ended up being the one that made the album, so there was Nick’s name in black and white on the song’s credits in the album insert-- Producer: Nick Carter.  He’d bought the first copy.  


He watched from afar as Annie tinkered on the piano while she and Brian warmed up, occasionally glancing down at the music on the stand in front of him to make sure he knew it as well as he thought he did.  Truth be told, even though he could probably keep a tempo on the drums in his sleep, he was a little nervous.  Not only had Brian and Annie’s song been nominated for the prestigious “Song of the Year” award, but Annie had also gotten much deserved nominations for New Artist of the Year, Female Vocalist of the Year, and Album of the Year.  He had a feeling it was going to be a really big night.