PART ONE
"Brian, say yes."
Looking at Nick with more than just stunned surprise, my heart began to beat faster as my mind registered what he had just said. His charming declaration brought back a bittersweet flood of longing as I remembered the same desperate plea he had made to me on that night so long ago. I had been blind then, foolhardy to reject him and was not about to make the same mistake twice. With what I'm sure was a ridiculous grin on my face, I managed to stammer out a "yes", too elated and shocked to do anything more than just speak that simple, sweet word.
Nick grinned back and then reached out for me, awkwardly trapping me into a tight embrace. I tried not to swoon, I mean, I'm a grown man for God's sake, not a giddy teenager! Still, it felt so good and I closed my eyes, savoring the long lost feeling of those welcoming arms.
"Great." Nick quickly released me and stepped away, a pleased look on his face. "I'm glad you said yes to coming back. Starting the group again wouldn't have been the same without you."
"What?" I froze for a moment, disbelief turning into painful realization. "Oh…that," I finally managed to say.
I'm sure Nick must have heard the disappointment in my voice, hell, it probably wasn't too hard to see in it my face either. I watched as Nick shifted uneasily, looking at me with a hard, curious expression. "Yeah, that. Why, what did you think I meant?"
My heart quickly sank along with my foolish, foolish idea. I hurriedly glanced away, searching for something, anything to look at, hoping Nick would not see the flush of embarrassment on my face. Unfortunately, my gaze landed directly on AJ, who was calmly sipping his drink, watching us with unabashed curiosity. He raised his glass up to us in a silent toast and then I understood, realizing without a doubt that AJ knew. The fact that AJ knew what had happened between us, especially when I had tried for so long to conceal it, sent a rush of anger and mortification through me. I turned back to face Nick, noticing his intense gaze still riveted on me.
Just how stupid could I possibly be? And could I possibly get any dumber? How could I have thought Nick's warm and loving eyes had been for me, for us? They weren't. He had only been hopeful, glad to see that I was here at the meeting, to revive the Backstreet Boys. I felt ill. I felt sad. But mostly, I felt. . .
"AJ knows," I hissed furiously.
Startled, Nick turned to look at AJ and then back at me.
"Knows? Knows what?"
"Quit playing the dumb blonde, Nick, it doesn't suit you anymore." I enjoyed seeing the small flash of pain that crossed his face. "Why did you tell AJ about us? Why?" It was interesting to see how quickly Nick's face changed from one of hurt to resentment.
"I didn't, Brian. AJ has always known."
I must have looked fairly skeptical because Nick narrowed his eyes and said, "Brian, I think AJ knew I wanted you before I even did! He didn't rent that Vegas penthouse just for my twenty-first birthday! AJ pretty much planned on me getting laid that night. But I guess you don't want to remember any of that, do you? Do you?" I felt Nick grabbing me around my upper arm, his fingers pressing tightly into my flesh as if the pressure would force an answer out of me, make me confess.
And what exactly was I suppose to say to Nick? The truth? That I had never forgotten it? That I never will? That the memory of that night was pretty much the only thing that kept me sane over the past few years?
I didn't answer him. I didn't want to. I had already made a fool of myself just minutes before on the say yes misunderstanding. I wasn't going to repeat that again.
I felt Nick's fingers relax as my silence spoke volumes and he took a step back, assessing me. "Well, I remembered, Brian. All of it. It mattered to me."
Trying to gauge the depth of hurt in his voice, the pain in his eyes as he stared down at me, I managed to stammer out a weak, "Nick…" before he cut me off.
"But it doesn't matter now."
It must have been the bluntness in his tone, the sudden, hard coldness that made me realize what he said was true. I felt sick, shattered by his confession. Three years was a long time, an eon, really. Nick had every right to be over it, over me. I couldn't fault him. I had only myself to blame. I nodded, too miserable, too depressed to wonder how to reply.
I didn't have to. I stumbled when I felt a small but powerful little body slam into the back of my legs. Nick caught me in his arms before I fell then reached out to snag his son, who had been racing impulsively throughout the crowd.
"Sorry," mumbled Nick as he released his tight embrace on me. I heard the discomfiture in his voice and wasn't sure whether he was apologizing for our closeness or for his son's out of control behavior.
"Matthew, behave yourself!" Kneeling down, Nick ran a playful hand through his son's tousled hair and then grabbed him, tossing him happily into the air. I watched as Matthew gave a shriek of delight, demanding "do it again, do it again!"
I bit my lip, a flare of jealousy ripping through me as I watched them both interact, a special father/son bond that I would never have the chance to experience.
With one last fling in the air, Nick caught his son easily and held him in his arms.
"Matthew Mario Carter, I want you to meet someone," Nick said, struggling to pull his suddenly shy and clinging son away from his throat.
"Mario?" I asked unbelieving. "Nick, tell me you didn't."
Confused, Nick looked at me for a moment then gave a small laugh. "No, I didn't name him after a Nintendo game! Mario is his grandfather's name, Brian."
Matthew perked up, pulling away from his father's neck. "Brian? Uncle Brian? I know you!" He pointed a tiny finger at me and smiled as I blinked in surprise. "Daddy always talks about. . . "
"Um, wrong Brian, Matty-boy," interrupted Nick in a rush, his voice colored with embarrassment.
"But you…" Matthew looked back and forth, confused.
"Matt!" Nick frowned, shaking his head warningly at his son.
"May I?" I asked, crouching down eye level and invitingly held my hands out to Matt for a hug, hoping I could ease the sudden tenseness I sensed in Nick.
After a moment's hesitation, Matthew stretched his arms out and I gave him a hug, a wave of almost indescribable sorrow filling me as I breathed in the warm, sweet smell of his hair. I quickly closed my eyes, feeling the sharp sting of tears as I felt Nick's son return my squeeze with childish enthusiasm. Nick's son. His. Not mine. God, life was so unfair. I had wanted a child, dreamt of one, hell, it was the main reason I had stayed with Leighanne longer than I truly should have. And all my effort, all my misplaced devotion had resulted in a complete breakdown of everything I had so desperately sought.
With the patience borne of a three year old, Matthew soon got tired of my hug and wiggled quickly out of my hold. He raced off and I grinned, shaking my head in amusement as I watched him grab a handful of sticky pastries that were displayed on the buffet table.
I stood up from my crouched position, still studying Matthew and knew, without looking, that Nick was watching me closely. I felt uncomfortable, self-conscious standing so near to Nick so I finally turned to him and caught his quick glimpse of melancholy before it vanished.
"You're very lucky to have him," I admitted. I could feel Nick stiffen, taking offense to my comment.
"Why?" he asked, slightly defensive. "You don't think I'm good enough to be a father?"
I sighed. "Nick, all I meant is that you've been blessed. Matthew looks like a healthy, happy little boy. What more could you ask for?"
"Yeah, I've got everything." Nick stared straight at me, the bitterness evident in his voice. "Everything." He turned away, searching for his son and I watched him leave, wanting to say something, anything.