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Chapter Seventeen


Nick

I put my headphones on the second I got back to the seat and grabbed my book from the pouch in front of my knees. I could feel the girls from the airport staring at me and hear them giggling quietly to themselves. A nun a few rows ahead of me had glared at me as I passed. When Jaymie came back a good five minutes or so later, I avoided eye contact with her, even as I stood up for her to move past me and our pelvises brushed against each other and her cheeks pinkened. She dropped herself into her seat and sunk low, grabbing the air mall catalogue and burying her nose in it.

We didn’t say a word to each other all of the rest of the way to Germany, other than during a bout of turbulence about two hours before we landed. Jaymie jumped and grabbed my fist with her hand, her eyes wide and I’d moved one side of my headphones and muttered, “It’s a’ight.” But other than that, it was radio silence.

In Berlin, I held Jaymie’s hand as we moved through the airport - it was crowded and I didn’t wanna get separated. Her fingers felt tentative, though, as though she were hesitant to grip onto me. My mind worked this into a metaphor, imagining that Jaymie was regretting having said the L-word and was wishing she could take back the words, but couldn’t. I just hoped that she hadn’t meant them, that they were a token of the heat of the moment.

The last thing I wanted was to have her actually love me.

We collected our bags from the luggage carousel and loaded them onto a trolley and headed for the arrivals gates where Mike, my bodyguard, was waiting for us. He smiled when he spotted me, and the expression faltered slightly when he noticed Jaymie. Not in a bad way, I mean Mike doesn’t judge Jaymie. I think he was just surprised. But the way his face repositioned itself made me realize I hadn’t told any of the fellas she was coming yet.

“Hey,” Mike said as we approached. He took hold of the trolley. “Let me get that.”

“Thanks,” I said.

Jaymie stayed quiet all the way from the airport to the hotel. We were in the elevator when she finally spoke. “Can we pretend that I didn’t say anything?” she asked as the thing dinged, signifying we were on the floor the room the hotel had assigned us was on. She reached for the door stop button and stared at me.

I nodded.

“Okay then. So this weirdness,” she waved between her and I, like she was stirring some invisible pot of goopy, gunky substance, “This is over, yes?”

I nodded again.

She nodded, too, then released the door. “That’s settled then.”

The door opened and there stood Brian and Leighanne, Baylee dancing foot-to-foot in front of them in excitement. Brian was whispering something to Leighanne as the doors slid open. When Leighanne’s eyes landed on me and Jaymie they widened in surprise. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “Fancy meeting you all here.” She smiled - too wide - at Jaymie.

Brian looked from me to Jaymie and back again quickly. “Hey,” he said, and he guided Baylee into the elevator, “Welcome back. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Me, too,” I replied, stepping out of the elevator and into the hall. Jaymie and Leighanne had a similar exchange of places.

“We’re going out to dinner,” Brian said.

“You’re welcome to join us,” Leighanne offered.

“We’re-gonna-have-dessert-my-mom-said-its-ok-as-long-as-I-eat-my-veggies,” Baylee shouted.

“We’re good,” I replied, waving the offer off. “But enjoy that dessert, Bay.” I high-fived him.

“Okay then,” Brian said. He smiled, a forced, stiff sort of smile, at Jaymie. “See ya.” And then he reached for the door close button as Baylee waved enthusiastically and Leighanne leaned in to say something in Brian’s ear.

Jaymie turned to me. “You didn’t tell them you were bringing me, did you?”

“Not exactly, no,” I replied.

She sighed.

“It’ll be a’ight,” I said. And I turned and walked down the hall to the hotel room, pulling the key out of the little paper sleeve they’d given me to keep it in. A swipe of the card and we were in the room, the window shedding a view of the city below, glowing colorful lights creating an abstract, stained-glass effect on the ceiling. I dropped my bag on the floor and climbed onto the wide, king-sized bed and spread out my legs and arms, feeling the bed cushion around me.

Jaymie closed and locked the room door and came out, letting her bag drop beside me. She stared around, then disappeared into the bathroom.

“Jesus, do you ever stay anywhere that doesn’t have gold plated faucets?” she demanded, staring at me with one eyebrow raised.

“Huh?” I said.

“The first night we ever fucked,” Jaymie said, “One of the only things I remember about that night was the faucet. It was gold.”

I laughed, “You don’t remember that night?”

“Nick. I had so much vodka in me that night. I was like a walking bottle of Absolut.”

“Absolutely amazing, maybe,” I said. I struggled to sit up to look at her. She stretched her arms and moved over to the wide window across the room, which was big enough to have a small couch that faced the doors that opened to a balcony. I licked my lips. “You had on this green dress,” I said. “It was the same color as your eyes. And you had gold eye shadow. And your hair was all up in one of those crazy side ponytails that were cool back then.”

Jaymie turned to face me, surprise in her eyes.

“I had on that dumbass yellow shirt that was about eleventeen sizes too big… with that early nineties triangle style print…”

“That shirt I remember,” she injected.

“And you were dancing with that chick by the stage when I saw you. You were so into the music. I just loved it. I wanted to feel like that again. It’d been awhile. We were so jaded already from all the work… Lou… et cetera… But shit you were so amazing I had to get the guts up to ask you to go with me to the after party. It was AJ’s idea. I had to ask him how to ask you.”

Jaymie laughed.

I got up off the bed and I walked over to her. “And we went to that club. And Fastlove was playing.”

Jaymie’s jaw dropped, her lips curled in a hesitant smile.

“And we were dancing. You know. All… nineties style…” I moved, thrusting my pelvis against her hip, dropping low, keeping my body pressed to her side as I squatted, then brought myself back up, pulled her into my arms, breaking out all the old-old-old Backstreet moves from the first tour. I stared into her eyes. “Gotta get up to get down, ya gotta get up to get down, ya gotta get up to get down… I won’t bore you with the detail… I gotta get there in your own sweet time… Let’s just say that maybe… You could help me ease my mind… Baby, I ain’t Mr. Right… But if you’re looking for faaast loooove, faaaaast love in your eyes… It’s more than enough…. had some bad love… some fast love is all that I’ve got… on… my.. mii-ii-iiind…”

Jaymie stared up at me as I slid my hands down her sides. “The nineties were so ridiculous,” she muttered, her cheeks red, but eyes sparkling.

“So then,” I continued, “We left the club after a few drinks, a couple dances… went back to the hotel… I sang some more George Michael to you…”

“Oh?” she laughed.

I nodded. “I swear I won’t tease you… Won’t tell you no lies… I don’t need no Biiiible… just look into my eyyyyyes… I’ve waited so long baby, out in the cold, but I can’t take much more girl I’m losing contrrooool…” I dropped it low, shaking my booty so I was basically humping her leg.

Jaymie cracked up. “Stop that,” she laughed. “Oh my God, look at you.” I stood up and pulled her closer.

“Sex is naturaaaal, sex is funnn, sex is best when its….” I stared into her eyes, “One on one.”

“Why do you remember this so well?” she asked, shaking her head, staring into my eyes.

“The lyrics?”

“Those, too, but I meant the night,” Jaymie snorted.

“C-cc-c-cc-ccome on,” I sang out and Jaymie’s laughter renewed. “What’s your definition of dirty baby…”

“Nick,” she was wheezing.

“They’re classic lyrics.”

“So classic,” she said, rolling her eyes, her grin painfully wide.

“And as for the night… Well, I guess most guys do remember their first… you know… time,” I replied.

Jaymie choked.




Jaymie

“Your first?!” I backed away from him, disbelief circling through my veins.

Nick nodded, “Why is that shocking?” he laughed, “We were sixteen.”

“But you were - you’re - you --” I squinted at him. “Do you tell all the girls they were your first?” I demanded, choking out a laugh.

Nick laughed, “Fuck no.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

He shrugged, “It didn’t seem important?”

“It didn’t seem --” I laughed, “That didn’t seem important to you?” I shook my head and turned away, biting my lip. I didn’t know what I was feeling. I just knew my heart rate had leaped almost as high as it’d been on the plane in the bathroom when he’d fucked me like no tomorrow. Oh my God, my brain screamed at me, You were the one that broke in Nick fucking Carter.

I turned around to look at him. He looked apprehensive. “You -- are you mad?” he asked, eyebrows cinched together.

“Mad?” I laughed.

Nick looked unsure how to take my laughter.

“No, not mad,” I said. “I guess… I dunno. Shocked?”

“Well I mean, I was… really awkward…” he said. “That night. Because, like, I didn’t know what I was doing and…” Nick grinned, “I mean clearly your reaction today on the flight proves I’ve learned well since, but that night…” he laughed, shaking his head. “Christ, you must’ve thought I was a fucking failure. Well I mean you don’t remember it so I guess it wasn’t so traumatizing as to burn in your memory for all time at least.”

I bit my lip. “I wouldn’t have known anyways. I wasn’t exactly experienced then, either. Like you said, we were sixteen.”

“So it was your first time, too?” he asked, surprised.

I nodded.

“Well damn,” he muttered.

I suddenly felt this like… unexplainable feeling. Like something was passing between us, something irrevocable. Something… something like the realization that we’d shared not only sex all these years but we’d shared something more, something deeper, something more core than just the sex.

We’d been each other’s firsts.

Nick stepped toward me, slowly, almost cautious. He put his hand on my lower back. His breath was low, slow, shallow. He closed his eyes, like he was saying a silent prayer or willing himself to do something or not to do something. Then he stared into my eyes.

“What you said,” he said thickly, “On the plane?”

“I thought we were gonna pretend it didn’t happen, like we said on the elevator?” I whispered.

“Just - one last thing, then… then, yes, we’ll pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Yes?”

Nick’s eyes were so blue and he smelled so intoxicating, his face was close to mine, his stare intense. “I didn’t run away because you said it, or because I was afraid to hear it or to say it back because --” He stopped, took a deep breath, then started again. “I ran because I don’t want you to get hurt when… when I, um.” He paused. “You know.”

“You’re not going to.”

He shrugged. “I refuse to hurt you.”

“I wanna be hurt.”

He shook his head.

I closed my eyes.

Nick kissed my forehead softly. “I just want you to know, before we forget about all this, that if the world was different… I-- would-- you, too.”

“Treatment,” I whispered. “Please. Get the treatment.” I looked up at him, opening my eyes, fluttering my lids and lashes to be able to see him through the tears that were threatening. “Don’t you see it? Don’t you see the more we let our nothing personal become something real, the more it’s worth fighting for?”

But instead of answering me, he just pulled away and laid back down on the bed.