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Howie loved speculating about it himself.
How many hotel rooms had Nick pulled him out of or into during the previous year?
And how many smooth, freshly made beds had welcomed their warm, aroused bodies?
Why had it been so difficult to admit it was more than just a physical attraction--a way to comfort one another
and pass the time?
The Michelle Branch cd reached the #9 cut, the song that held Howie's heart and squeezed it unmercifully
every time he heard it.
"Cause when there's you, I feel whole
And there's no better feeling in the world!
But without you I'm alone,
And I'd rather be in love with you."
He and Nick were friends. They had known one another nearly ten years. They had grown up together. Nick
had been just a kid when Backstreet was formed. In fact, he had been a difficult, obnoxious kid much of the
time, in Howie's experience.
But within the past couple of years, Nick had suddenly blossomed into something else, something beyond
the earthy, crude, sometimes awkward young man who had held their fan base enthralled with his blue eyes
and long, too-blonde hair. Suddenly the hands and feet had caught up with one another, the voice had
matured, the skin had started to clear up and Nick's confidence had finally grown into his superstar image.
Nick had come into his own, right before Howie's eyes.
And Howie had done the same. He had left behind the too-short, too dark, too clumsy Howard Dorough for
the smooth, settled Howie D. he had always pretended to be. And he had enjoyed seeing the effect this new
version of Howie had on people, especially on his Nicky.
"Turn out the lights now,
To see is to believe.
I just want you near me,
I just want you here with me--
And I'd give up everything only for you,
It's the least that I could do."
Howie loved thinking about how beautiful their skin looked next to one another, Nick's light tan with that halo
made of golden fur, Howie's smooth mocha dotted with very dark bristle.
They were like a work of art in many ways.
"And I feel you holding me."
God, he could certainly feel Nick's arms around him. He didn't even need to close his eyes to remember the
sensation of warmth, the experience of complete closeness. It had seemed so perfect, Howie had actually
stopped wanting other men; for the first time in his life he had been satisfied with the attention of just one
man--Nick.
And remembering those feelings had become more painful than he could believe. He missed Nicky so much.
And part of him felt angry. Abandoned. Nick had not only abandoned Howie, he had turned his back on the
whole group! He was risking breaking up Backstreet to take a risk on a successful solo career. In fact, Nick
now acted frustrated by the decisions made by the group, as though they were holding him back. Howie
knew part of Nick longed for freedom--complete freedom from Backstreet.
Freedom from Howie?
"Why are we afraid to be in love?
To be loved--
I can't explain it
I know it's tough to be loved."
What if Howie had told him how much he loved him? Would it have mattered? Had Howie let pride take
something from him that had never really been given the opportunity to blossom? Was he to blame for losing
Nick, instead of Nick being the guilty party who had walked away from him?
This thought was more painful, somehow.
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