Chapter Eight

Nick tried shifting his leg and found it pinned under an unexpected weight. The sensation of pins and needles prickled along the limb, forcing him to wiggle his toes and adjust his position. He raised one heavy lid to peek at the obstacle which had him wedged in the couch so snugly.

The deeply upholstered couch accommodated both him and Melanie comfortably, and although at one time, they were sitting side by side; they were now lying. Her head lay nestled against his chest; some of her long curls were entwined in his fingers, evidence that he’d been playing with them while they slept. He watched her for awhile, amused that she was an affectionate sleeper. She also drooled and monopolized the couch. He chuckled to himself. Ha! The mere mention of it was bound to get him in trouble but he filed it away for future reference.

It was still relatively early in the morning and there was no sign of Brent or Samantha. Burgers, my ass, he thought. It was a good thing he hadn't been starving last night or he'd want to kick Brent's butt. He repositioned himself once more, disturbing Mel briefly before she sighed and fell back into a deep sleep. At least now, he had a little more room. Her soft, feminine form rested against him, molding itself to his larger frame, and making his usual morning hard-on ache. Not wanting to disrupt her again, he cursed under his breath, pressed his eyes closed and tried to force himself back to sleep.

"Ssshhh. . . they're passed out on the couch together. . . You sure they're just friends? Look how cute they are."

"Not as cute as us."

"Brent, cut it out. What if they wake up? Hey. . . " Sam's muffled protests were lost against his lips. "Brent. . . please, you're being really bad."

"It's okay. They're asleep."

"Dawg, you better have brought back some Egg McMuffins, ‘cause you are a little late with those burgers." Samantha and Brent spun around to face Nick's teasing expression. He had pulled himself up slightly, dragging his companion with him. Her dark hair cascaded off the coach as her head hung precariously close to its edge.

"Oh. . . Nick! We watched the sunrise at the beach. It was wicked. We hoped you wouldn't mind. Brent didn't think you would." Sam's words pleaded for his understanding.

She was so genuine even though Nick had initially thought no one could possibly be that sweet. Her attitude was refreshing after all the posers that he'd met, and it surprised and pleased him to no end that she didn't give a damn about his celebrity status.

Sam only had eyes for Brent. She had flirted with him when he was a regular guy checking her out at the club and behaved in the same friendly easy-going manner after she had discovered he was one of the band members. Nick met her only later in the evening, after the Born into Kaos set. He'd grown so cynical of people over the years, often forced into making quick judgment calls on those he could trust. Inexplicably he trusted her, even after Sam recognized him and told him so. She was, in fact, elated to discover he was the NICK CARTER of the Backstreet Boys. And as unfamiliar and ego deflating as it was, she turned her full attention back to his friend to whom she was attracted.

"S'alright Sam, Mel and I go way back." Nick scrunched his face as he adapted to the morning light. His tongue felt dry and pasty, and he desperately needed some juice or coffee. His blonde spikes had lost their style. Some lay flat against his head while others fluffed out like matted golden thread.

Samantha walked into the tiny kitchen with the bags she and Brent had brought back. She returned with two huge tumblers filled with freshly squeezed orange juice for her and Nick. Brent carried in his own.

"Isn't it the best?" She effused, "It's one of those things I love about Florida."

Sam grinned at the two men over the rim of her glass. Brent stretched out lazily in the only other chair in the room. He had probably expected her to sit on the arm or his lap, but as much as she liked Brent, she felt shy around Nick and Melanie. She grabbed a cushion and plopped herself down onto the worn, beige broadloom that covered the dining and living room floors.

"Don't ya’ get fresh juice where you're from?"

"Yes, but somehow it's different here."

Nick and Brent chuckled at the simplicity of what pleased her. Their quiet laughter startled Mel from the depth of her slumber. She squirmed against Nick who splayed his warm fingers over her bare stomach where her top had ridden up. He did it as much to feel the softness that she fanatically guarded as to prevent her from falling forward onto the floor. Her much smaller hand covered his in a subconscious gesture. Their actions spoke of an intimacy neither truly recognized themselves. A curious look passed between Brent and Sam.

Nick threw back the contents of the glass, and handed it to his friend while Mel stretched and pulled herself up into a sitting position. She was disoriented in her surroundings and by the two men in their presence. Her slow recovery was one of the perils of being a deep sleeper. Nick watched her intently at first, then averted his eyes to prevent from laughing at his own absurd thoughts. She reminded him of a late night mistress of darkness with her tousled mane and the dark smudged remnants of her makeup. As the previous night's events seeped into her conscious mind, she looked towards him.

Nick, for his part, was far removed from the couch in Tampa. He was thinking about the correct way to behave without upsetting her. It had been easier when they were buds. Nick remembered that Howie wasn't a morning person; hell, none of them were, except for Brian who made everyone crazy with his early morning antics. If Howie was bad, and he was, Mel was worse. Nick kept his thoughts to himself and looked away.

Melanie narrowed her eyes, said ‘good morning to everyone’ and excused herself politely before escaping to the solitude of her room. None of her companions seemed to sense her angst, but as the morning stretched on past noon, her absence became conspicuous. She buried her face in her hands when she thought how easily she had surrendered to Nick's sympathetic entreaties. Last night, he had been her friend again and she was able to be frank about missing Howie. For ages she had remained silent about it to anyone for fear of making the pain real. The pain was real. It seared her heart each time she thought of Howie, and she thought of him often.

She prayed Nick and Brent would eventually take the hint and just leave. With any luck, she would avoid further contact with them until, at least, she'd grown a suit of armor. God help her if Sam got involved with Brent. That was doubtful. These guys weren't known for their stability with women.

Once again, a knocking at her door disturbed her reverie. This time, it wasn't Samantha.

Nick walked in.

"Sometimes you are so arrogant, it astounds me. I didn't say you could come in."

"Well, you're pretty rude. You just left us out there wondering what happened."

"I said good morning and excused myself. . . "

"Yeah, and then disappeared. . . "

"It's not like you were my guests."

"WHAT THE FUCK! This is different. You know us. Man, you are seriously fucked up. Did you know that? You sleep in my arms all night, all sweet and cuddly, and then you wake up a total bitch."

"Well, excuse me for not meeting your expectations. Besides sleeping in your arms wasn't part of the game plan. And this from the guy who could hardly look at me this morning."

Nick burst out laughing. He collapsed to the floor where he sat down with his legs crossed and faced Mel. "Is that why you left like that? I couldn't look at you cause you looked funny. Your hair was all over the place and your makeup…"

"Excuse me." Melanie was mortified while Nick was still suppressing giggles.

"I don't mean to hurt your feelings. You're a good lookin' girl and all, but you got too caught up in the crap we're all about--all that glamour shit. Bed head, makeup and a few pounds aren't ever gonna make you ugly. You and Howie--you're the same, man. That's how come you're not together.”

Melanie's feelings were hurt. He had touched on so many nerves with his blunt words. Words that couldn't be taken back. She looked at him in shock, wanting to scream at him to get out and leave. How dare he insult her? How dare he mention Howie when he knows what broke them up? Instead she stay seated on her bed, hid her face and wept quietly for what might have been.