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Chapter Thirteen - New York

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Turn your TV on ladies and gents. The Boys invade Regis and Kelly Live in an hour!

I closed my laptop and looked around. I had never been in a greenroom before. I should have known it wouldn’t be green. The room was painted a bright yellow. A bright floral spray sat in the middle of a round table along with muffins, fruit, and juice.

“So what do you think?” AJ said.

“It’s not green.”

“They never are,” Brian said. He studied the set of cards he held in his hand, then looked at Baylee. “Go Fish.”

Nick, who had been in a good mood for the past few days, had fallen back into his funk. He stood in a corner of the room away from the hustle and bustle, texting like mad. He looked angry.

“Everything good in here?” a show hand asked, popping only his head through the door.

“All good. Thank you,” Howie said.
Five minutes later the show hand popped his head back in.

“There’s someone out here to see Nick Carter.”

“Who?” Nick said, turning towards the door frowning. The show hand disappeared momentarily; a few seconds later the floating head resurfaced.

“She says she’s a photographer. Lauren Kitt?”

“Son of a—“

Leighanne put her finger to her lips. Nick’s nostrils flared; he practically stormed out of the room.

“I knew this was going to happen,” AJ muttered. “No way were we going to get out of New York without her tracking him down.”

The room got relatively quiet except for the occasional “Go Fish.” From the hallway voices began to rise louder and louder. Minutes passed; suddenly the door flew open and Nick walked in. Lauren walked in right behind him.

“Nick, let’s talk about this,” she begged, pulling at his arm. He freed it from her grip, turning around.
“Lauren, what more is there to talk about? We’re done. We’ve been done for awhile. Please let me go.”

“Why are you doing this?” she hissed in a whisper.

“Lauren, please,” Nick pleaded, his voice turning gentler. “Please just go. Please stop texting me. I don’t know how many ways I can tell you that I don’t have the same feelings you do. We just won’t work. I’m not going to string you along, I’m not that guy. I’m sorry.”
At that moment security walked into the room.

“Is there a problem here?”

Lauren looked at Nick pleadingly.

“Goodbye, Lauren,” he said quietly.

Stifling a loud sob she spun around, brushing past security and out the door.

The floating head reappeared.

“Thirty minutes.”

I watched Nick walk into the bathroom. The silence in the room was awkward. Hesitating only a moment I got up, walking right into the bathroom. Nick had his hands on the sides of the sink, his head bowed, his eyes closed. I shut the door softly behind me.

“You okay?” I said, coming up next to him.

“I’m fine,” Nick said. He ran a hand down his face.

Raising his head he looked at me through the reflection of the mirror. “I just hate this sometimes.”

“Hate what?” I asked gently.

“Being famous. I’m so tired of putting my faith and trust into someone and getting hurt. I’m so sick of people latching onto me and pretending to like me just to get something out of it.”

Tears sprung to Nick’s eyes. Oh no. Don’t do it. Don’t cry. I silently begged. I reached out and placed my hand on top of his.

“I can’t say I understand. I don’t,” I admitted. “But I do know that there are people in this world that care about you very, very much. The people that use you are missing out on getting to know a truly genuine soul,” I added.

Nick flipped his hand over, lacing his fingers through mine.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

The sadness in his eyes disappeared; in its place was longing. I sucked in a breath; my eyes went to his mouth. Lowering his head to mine he leaned in. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek. My palms started sweating. It was really going to happen…

“Hey, Nick. We’re on man,” Howie said, his head poking through the door. He looked from Nick to me. “Ohh, sorry,” he said, coughing in embarrassment. He looked back apologetically. “We’re on,” he repeated.

“Knock ‘em dead,” I said, stepping back with a smile. Nick returned the smile. Squeezing my hand, he headed out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

As soon as the door closed, I crumpled up, leaning on the sink for support. Looking at my reflection in the mirror I could see the red hot flush radiating from my cheeks. Turning on the faucet, I splashed cold water on my face. After several deep breaths and another check of the mirror to make sure I looked normal, I headed back into the green room.

“You okay?” Rochelle asked.

“Hmm? Yeah, I’m fine,” I said waving the question off.

I sat down on the couch beside Leigh. The TV showed the Boys walking out amongst a loud chorus of screaming girls.

“He looks good doesn’t he?” Leigh said dreamily.

I studied Nick. He looked so relaxed; no doubt a result of seventeen years in the business.


“Yes, he does.” I said with a smile.

I mean Howie,” Leigh said teasingly. I felt the flush creep back into my cheeks.

“Yeah, I know,” I said. “That’s what I meant. Caliente.”

“Sur-rrre.” Leigh said with a chuckle. But, she let is drop.

As the show went to commercial, my phone rang. Wondering who in their right mind would dare to bother me during Regis and Kelly, I glanced at the screen in annoyance.

It was Hunter. Excusing myself, I stood up, returning to the solitude of the bathroom.

“Hello?” I said, closing the door for privacy. I sat down on the toilet lid.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Who else would it be?” I said teasingly.

“I got your email about coming to see you in Illinois,” he said, ignoring my question.

“Yes?”

“I’ll come.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he said with a sigh. He sounded like I was forcing him to go get a root canal.

“Are you sure?" I said.

"I'm sure."

"Well, I’ll have your ticket at the will call window. You’ll get the VIP treatment,” I added. I could almost see him roll his eyes.

“Cool," he paused. "Well that’s all I wanted, so…”

“So I’ll see you next week?”

“Yup.”

“Love you,” I said.

“Love you too,” he said. I waited for a click, but it didn’t come.

“Liv?”

“Yeah?”

“I miss you.”

My heart flooded with warmth.

“I miss you too.”

With that he disconnected. Staring at the dark screen, I sighed. My gut clenched with guilt; here was my husband planning to come see me and I almost, almost kissed another man.

I vowed that I wouldn’t give it another chance to happen.