Home

Nick kissed me one final time and rolled off of me, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. I cuddled against his side for a moment, resting my head on his slightly sweaty shoulder, placing a gentle kiss there first.

“What are you thinking?” I dared to whisper after a few minutes of silence. I kissed his shoulder again.

He shrugged beneath me. “Not sure,” he said, sounding far away.

I rolled onto my stomach and propped myself up on his chest, resting my head on my hands as I looked down at him. “I’m kind of glad I went down to the lobby now,” I teased, reaching up to trace his lips with my fingertip. He still wasn’t looking at me, and I couldn’t figure out why. I felt so warm, so relaxed, so satisfied, I never wanted to move. He felt so solid beneath me, I just wished he would touch me, talk to me, look at me, something to show me he was still there.

“Me too,” he muttered, his eyes on the ceiling, folding his hands behind his head. I took that as my cue and sat up, pulling the sheet with me as I went. Part of me was hoping for another round, but he seemed to be shutting down on me, so I didn’t want to push my luck.

“I’m going to go,” I said, sliding off the bed, still holding the sheet to me. It felt weird to be naked in front of him now, awkward almost. I started gathering my clothes from where we’d haphazardly dropped them, only an hour or so before.

He sat up and watched me for a minute, with an almost sour expression on his face. He looked angry, somehow, bitter, and I had no idea what I’d done to cause it.

I took my clothes into the bathroom and began dressing quickly. I reassembled my ponytail, straightened my shirt, and went back into the bedroom.

Nick was sitting on the edge of the bed, his chest bare, but wearing his sweatpants again. He stood when I came out and threw on his sweatshirt.

“I’ll walk you out,” he said, moving toward the door. I must have looked shocked, because his face softened ever-so-slightly. “I have an early interview, and then we’re back on the road,” he said, refusing to meet my eyes. He opened the door. “I need to get some sleep.”

I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. I wasn’t sure what I’d done, what I’d said, but for some reason, he couldn’t get away from me fast enough. I steeled myself against the hurt that was threatening to make me say something I’d regret. I refused to beg him, to humiliate myself by asking what was up, so I squared my shoulders and headed to the door.

I trailed him silently down the hallway, my own personal walk of shame, even though no one was there now. I hadn’t expected to spend the night or anything, but being practically shoved out of the room mere minutes after we’d finished wasn’t what I’d expected either, and it made me feel embarrassed and ashamed of the whole thing. That was definitely not how I wanted to feel about one of the most sensual experiences of my life. The whole thing suddenly felt tainted.

“Do you want me to take you to your room?” Nick asked as we waited for the elevator. He shifted from foot to foot, slowly, so slowly it was barely noticeable, but I picked up on his discomfort. He still refused to look at my face.

“No, I can manage,” I said, a little more harshly than I’d intended. His eyes snapped up to meet mine, presumably at my tone, and I looked at the floor, feeling myself blush. Then I figured, what the hell, he was already pissy with me, why should I look away? I met his eyes again.

“I, uh, I had a good time,” he said, looking completely awkward now. “Thanks.”

That seemed like such an understatement and an overstatement, all at the same time. I knew that while we’d been together, he’d enjoyed himself, but now he was acting like I’d told him he had a small dick or something.

And how the hell was I supposed to respond to his thanks? I wanted to tell him that if he really wanted to thank me, he’d stop being a jerk and take me back into his room for awhile, even if it was just to cuddle or talk or something. I wondered if I had a pimp somewhere that someone forgot to tell me about, because I suddenly felt like a prostitute who’d overstayed her welcome. I couldn’t help the bitter smirk that crossed my face as I wondered what my going rate was.

Nick gave me a curious look as the elevator opened. “Care to share your private joke?” he said, seeming to relax a bit now that my departure was almost immediately upon us.

I eyed him for a second. “Not with you,” I said, then went into the elevator. The doors shut behind me before he could say anything else.

I went back to my room, hoping Meegan and Jill were sleeping. I didn’t want to explain why a simple pillow run had turned into a two-plus-hour venture. I just wanted to climb into a hot shower and wash away the shame that was burning brightly inside of me.

No such luck. Meegan and Jill were lounging on their beds when I let myself into the room, gorging themselves on popcorn, their movie nearing its conclusion. They barely looked up when I came in.

“Where’d you go?” Jill asked around a mouthful of popcorn. “The pillows got here over an hour ago.” She gestured to the stack of pillows that was piled up on the sofa bed where I’d be sleeping. “Did you get lost?”

“Uh, I just curled up in the sitting room thing down in the lobby for a bit,” I stammered, tugging my hair free of its ponytail. It suddenly occurred to me that I probably smelled like sex, so I grabbed my bag and headed for the bathroom. “I’m going to jump in the shower,” I called over my shoulder.

“Don’t be long,” Jill called, swallowing loudly. “I’m next.”

I locked the bathroom door and pressed my back against it, sliding down until I was sitting on the floor. I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my face in them, just in time for the tears to start. I felt used, cheap, and beyond dirty. That was never part of the fantasy, never something I’d factored in, even when I’d been okay with a one-night stand. I figured we’d do our thing, have some quiet time, and then I’d voluntarily get up and go back to my room. I didn’t think I’d feel forced into leaving so soon afterwards. That part just didn’t sit well with me.

After awhile, I pulled myself up off the floor and started the shower. As I took off my clothes, I could still smell him on them, and that brought the tears again. I shoved my clothing into my bag, determined not to let that scent get to me, not to give in to it again and let myself get all sentimental over the creep who’d just thrown me out of his room.

The hot water felt amazing against my skin, and it washed away the tears. The problem was, it didn’t make me feel any less cheap. I doubted anything could at that point in time.

I dressed slowly in new pajamas when I was finished in the shower, and methodically combed out my hair. I could barely look at myself in the mirror as I did so, and was glad the steam from the shower had obscured the image a bit. I didn’t know if I’d ever look at myself the same way again.

The movie credits were just rolling when I went back into the bedroom. Jill and Meegan were giggling about something, and tossing little bits of popcorn at each other, just generally making a mess. I tried to smile at their fun, but I couldn’t. I folded out the sofa bed and flopped down on it, turning away from both of them.

“Mycki, what’s up?” Jill asked, no longer giggling. She sounded concerned. “You okay?”

“Just tired,” I mumbled into my pillow. “It’s been a long day.”

“I bet you’ll have sweet dreams tonight,” Meegan teased, throwing a piece of popcorn at me.

I jumped up in bed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped, feeling defensive.

“Uh, just that you met Nick fucking Carter today, genius,” Meegs replied, rolling her eyes at me.

Well, she had the ‘fucking’ part right. She’d just forgotten a few things, like ‘asshole,’ ‘creep,’ and ‘prick,’ to name a few.

I tried to smile, to cover up the hurt that I was feeling so I wouldn’t have to explain myself. “I guess it just hasn’t sunk in yet,” I said, shrugging. “It’s like three in the morning, my mind is barely functioning, so excitement is probably a bit much to ask at this point.”

“If I kissed Nick Carter, I wouldn’t sleep for a week,” Jill announced, gathering up her toiletries for her shower. “I bet he’s a killer in the sack.”

Oh, he was a killer all right. A killer of dreams and innocent childhood fantasies, that is, not to mention a killer of self-esteem. The dreamy expression on her face made my stomach turn and I had to look away.

“What do you think he’s like?” Meegan asked, sitting cross-legged on her bed, the popcorn beside her pretty much forgotten. I winced at her question and stayed quiet.

“He’s probably really aggressive,” Jill said, perching on the edge of Meegan’s bed. “He probably likes it rough and fast, you know? Get in and get out?”

She had no idea how right she was, about the last part, anyway. My face heated up at her words, and I hoped she wouldn’t notice.

“Nah,” Meegan disagreed, shaking her head, her blond curls bouncing. “He probably likes to take his time, to show off the skills he’s picked up throughout the years from the various groupies he’s nailed. I’ll bet he’s kind of full of himself in that department, you know? Any guy who has that much sex would have to be.”

Now I was a groupie he’d nailed? I felt physically ill at that description. That was not something I ever thought would be said about me.

“You think he’s seeing anyone?” Jill said, picking at her fingernail, her green eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Like, seriously seeing them? Not just fucking some chick on the side.”

This just kept getting better and better. I had to stop them before my head exploded.

“Can we not talk about this tonight?” I said, shaking my wet hair out over my pillow and staring at the contrast of dark brown against the white of the pillowcase.

“Oh yes, let’s not talk about all of the guy’s conquests in front of the sensitive one,” Meegan teased, tossing a pillow at me. “Fuck, Myck, you probably think the guy’s still a virgin or something.” She rolled her eyes. “Sorry to disappoint you, but he’s probably given more shaft than an elevator.”

Didn’t I know it. “It’s just a bit rude to be talking about him like he’s a piece of meat, that’s all,” I said, knowing it sounded totally lame.

“When has that ever stopped us before?,” Jill hooted, almost falling off the bed in her fit of giggles. “You know you think it just as much as we do, oh mighty prissy one. Don’t even try to tell me you don’t.”

I sighed. “Okay, I do,” I conceded, my head starting to throb. “But when was the last time I did it at three in the morning? Come on, guys, I need some sleep. I’m driving tomorrow, remember?” I rolled away from them and buried my face in my pillow, hoping that was enough to get them to stop yapping about Nick.

“Sorry, hun,” Meegs whispered, reaching over to turn out the light as Jill went into the bathroom. “We’ll be good.”

Unbeknownst to them, I didn’t sleep a wink that night.