Sleep was an escape for Nick, for in sleep, he dreamed. Sometimes he had nightmares, the most horrifying involving another relapse of his cancer, which was the one thing he feared most. But more often, he had pleasant dreams, dreams where he was touring with the Backstreet Boys, and they were back on top; dreams of being with his family, which was close-knit and happy, more like Brian’s family than the dysfunctional mess he was used to; dreams of him and Claire being together.
The only problem with these dreams was that, inevitably, he would have to wake up from them and face yet another bad day in the life of Nick Carter. Which was why it was only too easy to stay in bed as long as possible, waiting for sleep and wishing for the dreams to come and carry him away from it all.
But that was not the case today. Today was a good day.
It had dawned bright, sunny, and hot, a typical July day in Florida, and Nick had started it off by calling Claire. After his talk with Howie the night before, he was anxious to see her again. He knew he had acted bitter and jealous the night before, and he was determined to make it up to her. He was not going to let his feelings for her get in the way of their friendship anymore.
They had planned to get together that night, but she came over in the afternoon instead, and they swam. Nick had gone swimming almost every day for the past few weeks in an effort to get back into shape for the video shoot that would take place the following week. It was one of the few physical activities he could still do without trouble, and he loved being in the water, so he hit the pool religiously. And though he hadn’t noticed much of a change in his physique yet, he had at least developed a tan, which was a nice contrast to the sallow complexion he’d had earlier, the results of weeks of being cooped up in the house.
Claire, who sat on the edge of the pool, her legs in the water, looked as white as ever. “I don’t tan. I burn,” she’d said with a roll of her eyes, as she pulled off her t-shirt and shorts, exposing a white, cherry-patterned tankini that was only a shade or two lighter than her ivory skin. “Hope I don’t blind you.”
But Nick had to admit that in some ways, he found her natural-looking skin much more appealing than the leathery hide of a girl who had visited the tanning bed one too many times. As beautiful as she was, Leah had one of those girls. Claire was not beautiful like Leah, but she was natural, and he liked that.
He swam up to her now and stood on raised ridge that ran around the perimeter of the bottom of the pool, gripping the edge for support. “Are you coming back in?” he asked, playfully flicking water at her.
“I will,” she replied, retaliating by kicking a tidal wave of water right at him. “I’m just resting for a minute.”
“Resting, huh?” Nick echoed, shaking his head like a dog to get rid of the water. “Tim wear you out last night or something?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. Tim had not been mentioned at all so far, and Nick had sworn not to bring him up, especially in the form of some snide remark. Self control, he reminded himself.
Luckily, Claire did not seem too offended, simply rolling her eyes and kicking more water at him. Grinning, he disappeared beneath the surface. Opening his eyes under the water, he found her feet, grabbed her by the ankles, and yanked. She flew ungracefully into the water and game up sputtering. “Damn you!” she cried, slapping at him playfully, her eyes sparkling. “I could have cracked the back of my head open on the edge, and then what would you have done?”
“Let you drown in a pool of your own blood, I guess,” Nick replied with a casual air, shrugging.
“You’re an ass,” she grinned. “I was going to put on more suntan lotion before I got back in. Now I’m going to have to haul my butt out of this pool and dry off all over again.”
“Oh, boo hoo.”
She rolled her eyes and boosted herself back onto the edge. Getting to her feet, she crossed the patio to retrieve her beach towel and jumbo bottle of Sunblock. He tried not to stare as she squirted a liberal amount of the lotion into the palm of her hand and began to rub it all over her body, her fingers gliding over her bare stomach and across her chest, sliding just beneath her top.
Bringing the bottle with her, she came back to the pool and sat down on the edge once again. “Sit up here a minute and put some on my back, would you?” she asked.
Trying not to smile, Nick lifted himself onto the edge beside her. She handed him the Sunblock and twisted around so that he could reach her back. He squeezed some of the lotion into his hand and smeared it lightly onto her skin. Using both hands, he slowly began to rub it in and wondered if she’d agree to a shirtless massage later on.
Stop it, Carter, he warned himself internally. You can’t even think shit like that; she’s your friend, nothing more.
Frowning, he dutifully rubbed some onto her shoulders as well and then stopped, handing the bottle back to her. “There you go,” he said.
“Thanks, Nick.” She rolled the bottle haphazardly across the patio and slid back into the water. He followed. “So,” she said, leisurely treading water, “got any plans for this coming week?”
“Yeah,” he answered, glad to be able to say ‘yes’ to that question for once. “We’re going to LA to shoot a video.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “You are? A music video?” He nodded. “Wow,” she said. “You didn’t tell me that! That’s awesome, Nick! Are you excited?”
“Yes,” he replied assertively at first, then paused and added, “and kinda nervous too.”
She nodded. “Well, that’s certainly understandable. I would be too. But I’m sure it’ll turn out great.” She smiled.
“Wish I could be sure,” he muttered, lowering his mask of confidence. “I’m just kind of scared... I’m afraid that I won’t be at the top of my game anymore... I-I don’t know how this has affected my ability to perform. I don’t know if I can still get in front of a camera and just sing, like I used to. And I’m also afraid that people won’t like it... that no one will want to watch it, that no one will like us anymore because of me. I mean, it’s kind a turn-off to... well, you know...” He trailed off, realizing he had just revealed much more than he had intended to her. He was not used to sharing his feelings, verbalizing his inner thoughts, confessing his fears. It made him feel vulnerable and naked, like she could see right into his soul.
But her gaze was not penetrating and did not make him uncomfortable. In fact, it did quite the opposite, for when he looked into her eyes, he saw not only compassion, but understanding.
“It’s all right to be afraid,” she said. “I mean, of course you are. Who wouldn’t be? But it’s going to be okay. This will help you get back into the swing of things, and it might be hard at first, but you’ll be fine. And as far as what other people think... well, jeez, Nick, you’re a Backstreet Boy! You have freaking gazillions of teenyboppers who worship you! And yeah, maybe a few of them have moved on, the majority won’t turn their backs on you. The true fans will love you no matter what.”
Nick smiled a little. “Can I group you with the true fans yet?” he asked jokingly.
She gave him a look. “Don’t flatter yourself; you haven’t quite converted me yet, buddy. I’m not into boybands.” She grinned as his expression darkened and added, “But I’ll still love ya no matter what too... even if you are a pop star.”
“Oh, whatever, I so caught you listening to my CD that one time, so don’t even pretend like you’re not into us. I bet your bedroom walls are plastered with our posters and shit,” Nick teased.
“Oh right, and don’t forget my life-size cardboard cutout of you in the corner,” she added sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
He laughed. “Hey, I think you can get those from Ebay if you want me to bid on one for you.”
“And how would you know that? What, do you go hunt down your own merchandise online and see how much you’re selling for these days? You loser,” she said, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “And as a note, I’m already the high bidder on an auction for a cardboard cutout... of AJ.”
“AJ!” Nick cried, dropping his jaw exaggeratedly. “Traitor!”
She giggled. “What can I say – I like the bad boys. Maybe you could hook us up.” She rolled her eyes again to let him know that she, of course, was kidding.
Nick played along. “Well, sure, I guess so,” he said, “but I don’t know if Tim would be too happy about that...”
“Oh, psh, I can still screw him while AJ’s on tour,” replied Claire matter-of-factly with a casual wave of her hand.
“Claire, you ignorant slut!” he exclaimed, winking.
“Nick, you loser!” she fired back with a grin.
“Slut.”
“Loser.”
“Slut...”
***
