Since they would not get much time for real rehearsals that week, the guys had been working hard to get their performance ready ahead of time. They had decided to start out by singing part of their hit first single from the most recent album and then transition into “I Want It That Way.” They had all liked the idea of singing one of their classics, and “I Want It That Way” just seemed the only real choice.
By the time the week of the VMAs hit, they were ready. Brian and Kevin left on Sunday to fly home, and AJ and Howie left the next day for New York. For the first time in five months, Nick was truly alone, and it was actually quite unnerving. Monday night passed by very slowly, as he was bored and anxious for the next day to come.
Finally, it did, and by Tuesday afternoon, Nick and Claire were in New York. Claire had been to New York once before, but she was still very excited and very enthusiastic, especially when she saw her hotel suite. “Oh my God!” she gasped continually, dragging Nick around the large, extravagant suite to show him luxuries that he had grown to consider quite customary. “Oh my God, look at the tub! It’s huge! Ohh man, I am so taking a bubble bath tonight!”
That night, Nick was stretched out on his bed, watching TV, when the phone rang. He reached over to the bedside table, fumbling around until his fingers found the receiver and lifted it up. “Hello?”
“Hey, Nick, whatcha up to?” It was Claire.
“Uh... not much. Watching TV. How about you?” he asked.
“I’m bored,” she responded matter-of-factly.
He smiled. “Well... do you wanna come hang out over here?”
“Sure! I’ll be over in a minute, ‘kay?” She hung up, and his smile grew wider. She had called just hoping for an invitation over, hadn’t she? It sure seemed that way to him.
Her suite was next door to his, and he was just climbing out of bed when he heard her knock. “Coming!” he called, making his way out of the bedroom and through the living room area. He opened the door to find her standing there in a large, fluffy white bathrobe and slippers, her hair slightly damp.
“I took a bubble bath,” she said with a smile, coming into the suite.
“You wearing anything under that?” he asked before he could stop himself, eyeing the bathrobe curiously. She stopped and gave him a look before loosening the sash of the robe and jerking it open to expose a pair of Capri-style cotton pajama bottoms and an old t-shirt with the sleeves and neckline cut out of it, exposing the straps of a gray sports bra. He smiled sheepishly and nodded. “Forget I asked.”
She rolled her eyes. “Perv.” She drew the robe back around her and shivered. “It’s cold in here. Stupid air conditioning.”
“It’s warmer back in the bedroom... I mean, if you wanna hang out back there... watch TV or something, I mean,” he stumbled, hoping she wasn’t getting the wrong impression.
“Fine by me,” she replied, following him into the bedroom. She beat him to the bed and practically leaped onto it, bouncing a little.
He grinned and had a fleeting flashback of the first time he had gone on a real tour with the Backstreet Boys, over in Europe, when he’d been about fifteen and still unable to resist the temptation of jumping on hotel beds. Kevin had nagged at him in exasperation, muttering something about wearing out the springs, while his twenty-year-old cousin had been right there with Nick, joining in on the fun.
His smile turned wistful as he thought of how innocent and carefree he’d been back then, with nothing to think about other than the new group and the realization that his childhood dreams were on the verge of coming true. How many nights had he and Brian lain awake in dark, unfamiliar hotel rooms, miles and miles from home, whispering about all the things they were going to do when they were rich and famous, all the places they would go, all the luxuries they would buy?
If only he could have seen what the future would hold – overwhelming success... but at the same time, overwhelming tragedy. And if he could have gone back, he would have traded all his fame and fortune to take away all the tragedy. Your health was more important than your career; that was something the Boys had always agreed on. But then again, it wouldn’t have been a fair trade. For his success hadn’t caused his illness any more than it could have prevented it.
“Hey, you okay?”
Claire’s gentle-voiced question caused Nick to look up with a start. “Yeah... yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I was just spacing out.” He grinned sheepishly and climbed onto the bed beside her.
“It’s okay. You just looked kind of sad all of a sudden.” She peered over at him, her eyes full of sympathy.
He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze and shook his head. “Nah, I was just thinking about something. It’s not important though. So do you want to watch a movie or something?” He changed the subject quickly and hoped she would not question him. Luckily, she didn’t. She knew when not to pry.
“Sure,” she said in response to the movie offer. “What should we watch?”
They checked the pay-per-view listings and decided on a movie. “You can get under the covers, if you want,” Nick said, as Claire settled back to watch, her back pressed against the wall, knees hugged to her chest.
She looked over at him. “You don’t mind?”
“No,” he replied with a soft chuckle. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a girl in my bed? I mean, actually in my bed?
She shed her robe and kicked off her slippers, sending them flying haphazardly across the room, and then scooted down beneath the covers, snuggling in to ward off the chill of the blasting air-conditioning. “Mm, this is much better,” she sighed, smiling at him. “You just kick me out whenever you want though; I don’t want to be invading your space.”
“I don’t mind,” said Nick with a slight smile. He guessed she didn’t realize just how much he didn’t mind. “But, um... do you mind if... if I take this off?” He patted his prosthesis awkwardly.
“Of course not,” she said quickly.
“Are you sure? I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything...”
Claire rolled her eyes. “Oh, Nick, it’s not like I haven’t seen you without it before.”
He smiled crookedly, realizing she had a point. He took off his jeans so that he was wearing just boxers and a t-shirt and then left the room, going out to the living room, where his laptop was set up on the desk. It was there that he took off his prosthetic leg, hooking it up to the computer and leaving it there to charge overnight. He came back to the bedroom on crutches and eased himself down onto the bed. Lying down beside her on the large, queen-size bed, he slid beneath the covers as well.
To anyone else, the scene might have seemed questionable, but to them, it was nothing. The thought of making a move on Claire did not even cross Nick’s mind. He liked her, sure, but his feelings for her were different than for any other girl he’d ever pursued. Claire was not like Mandy or Leah or any of the others he had dated; she wasn’t just a pretty face, a hot body, an easy lay, and he didn’t treat her like one. Though the way he felt about her may have changed, she would always be first a foremost a friend, someone who had stayed at his side throughout the hardest time of his life.
It had not been like that with Leah, nor Mandy. They had been girlfriends... but not friends. Not really. He had never been able to really talk to them, to confess his true feelings and show his real emotions. He had not been himself, but an actor who took on different roles. The tough guy, the rock star, the pimp – he could play them all. He could be whatever the ladies wanted, whatever they were looking for. For awhile anyway... then they would break up with him. Or hurt him so badly that he had no choice but to break up with them.
But Claire was not like that. The day she had met him, in that godforsaken chemo room, she had met the real him, Nick Carter the person, not Nick Carter the poser. His walls had been knocked down, his mask torn off, and she had seen him for what he was. And rarely had he tried to build the walls back up or put the mask back on around her. Maybe it was because he’d never felt the need to impress her. Maybe it was because he had always known that she understood him, the way no other girl ever had. For whatever reason, he had let her in, and she had accepted him. And even now, disfigured as he was, dishonest as he had been, she still accepted him. And he, in turn, respected her.
And so, lying there beside her, he simply enjoyed her presence and asked for nothing more.
The movie played, and Nick tried to pay attention to it, but as his thoughts strayed constantly from the plot, he hardly followed it at all. When it was over, he realized he had no idea whether it had been a good film or not. As the credits rolled on the TV screen, he turned to Claire. “Did you like-?” He stopped, his lips curving upward. Apparently the movie hadn’t been so good; she was sound asleep.
He reached out to touch her shoulder, then drew back, deciding not to wake her. He watched her for a moment, her sleeping face illuminated by the soft, golden lamplight. Her eyes were closed, her features relaxed, her mouth slightly open. She inhaled and exhaled with soft snores, her chest rising and falling regularly with each deep breath. A few minutes passed, and he smiled again, realizing he could lie there and just watch her sleep for the rest of the night.
But instead, he flipped off the TV and turned off the light, drenching the room in darkness. Letting out a soft sigh, he shut his eyes, and it was not long before his breathing became slow and steady, falling into perfect harmony with Claire’s, as they slept side by side.
***
Sometime during the night, they ended up in each other’s arms. But that was just in Nick’s dream. When he awoke, he found that it was not the case at all. He lay in relatively the same position he’d fallen asleep in, flat on his back on the left side of the bed. Claire, he saw as he sat up, was all over the place. Stretched out on her stomach, her body was twisted in the covers, her right leg had draped itself across his, and her left arm hung limply off the edge of the bed. He stared at her and shook his head in amusement. Carefully turning down the covers on his side, he pulled his leg out from under hers, freeing it. The movement caused her to stir. With a moan, she raised her head, and then rolled over to face him.
“Nick?” She blinked at him, bleary-eyed.
“Hey there,” he said, smiling at her appearance. In his dream, she had awoken in his embrace, looking fresh and perfect, and greeted him with a tender good morning kiss. But the sun had risen on reality, and the real Claire was looking totally disoriented and disheveled, her short hair sticking out in all directions, her right cheek marked with a red imprint of the back of her hand, which she had apparently been sleeping on.
“Is it morning?” she murmured, looking around. The shades were still drawn, leaving the room quite dim, but Nick was sure the day outside was bright and sunny. According to the bedside clock, it was after nine a.m.
“Yeah, it’s morning,” he said with a chuckle. “You were asleep by the end of the movie.”
“Oh... the movie...” She yawned and rubbed her eyes. “I should go.... God, I can’t believe I fell asleep in your bed.” She grinned sheepishly at him. “You should have just pushed me off.”
He laughed. “It’s okay. I fell asleep on your couch once, remember?”
She smiled. “Yeah... so I guess we’re even.”
“Right.”
She sighed and rolled off of the bed, retrieving her robe and slippers. “Thanks for letting me come hang out last night,” she said as she put them on.
“Anytime,” replied Nick casually. “Hey, if you wanna get breakfast later, let me know, okay? We can have something brought up.”
She nodded. “Okay. I’m gonna go grab a shower and get cleaned up first, but I’ll stop by or give you a call or something when I’m done.”
“Sounds good.”
She smiled. “Okay then. I’ll shut the door on my way out.” With that, she left. Nick eyed the space on the bed she had occupied just minutes earlier. There was still a slight indent in the mattress where her body had rested, and the pillow was flattened from her head. He reached over and picked it up, fluffing it half-heartedly. Her scent still clung to the linen pillowcase, the sweet, flowery smell of bubble bath and shampoo. He inhaled deeply and smiled at the memory of his dream.
This moment was quickly interrupted by a large body catapulting into his bed. Shaken, Nick blinked to find AJ suddenly sitting in the middle of the bed, bouncing gently, a big clownish grin on his face.
“How did you get in?” Nick demanded.
“Well, good morning to you too, Nick!” AJ replied cheerfully. “I was taking a stroll down the hall, and guess who happened to be coming out of your room?” Nick groaned, and AJ’s grin grew even wider. “So Nicky got a little action last night, did he?”
“No,” Nick said forcefully. “She was over here watching a movie last night, and she fell asleep. That’s all.”
“Suuuure, okay, Nick.” AJ winked, and Nick rolled his eyes, feeling his face heat up. He didn’t know why all of AJ’s teasing about him and Claire embarrassed him so much, but it did. And AJ’s insinuations of sex made him uncomfortable. It had never been like that before; they were guys – of course they joked about sex, usually without shame.
But things were different now, and even the very thought of sex, which Nick had once enjoyed, sometimes caused him to break out in a cold sweat. He really could not imagine making love to a woman the way he was now, and even more unrealistic was the idea of a woman actually wanting him to. A simple kiss was one thing, but lying close together, naked and exposed, was quite another. In such an intimate situation, what woman would ever be able to look at him and find him attractive, attractive enough to touch and caress and love?
He realized he was just making himself upset and quickly put a stop to his thoughts, forcing a laugh at AJ’s last comment instead. “You’re crazy, Bone,” he said. “Now get out, would you?”
“Sure thing, kid.” AJ promptly got off the bed. “Just had to come give you hell for a minute. I’ll catch ya later, ‘kay?”
“Sure,” said Nick. “Later.”
When he heard the door of the suite shut with a click and was sure that AJ had gone, Nick sighed and climbed slowly out of bed, hobbling on crutches into the bathroom to get cleaned up and ready for breakfast.
***
