AN: Hay peeps, glad you're enjoying the story.  I've really been on an updating kick, 
enjoy it while it lasts. LOL  Give me feedback, I give you more updates. =)  Thanks ya'll...

Disclaimer: Don't know, own, or have any real contact with the Backstreet Boys.  Corinne is a 
creation of my own twisted mind.  




************************* The Sometimes Girl: Chapter Four **********************


I love Howie's club.  Tabu just kicks ass.  It rocks, period.  Me and Nick have spent many a 
night grinding it up on the dance floor here.  And Howie's such a sweet heart.  I don't think 
he really likes me much because our personalities clash but he doesn't actively dislike me.  

Not that Nick would ever tell me if any of the guys had a problem with me.

AJ or Kevin would though.  AJ can't keep a secret to save his life and Kevin, well Kevin is 
my Backstreet Boy ally.  

But Sweet D is a total peacemaker and well, I have enough Italian in me to make me fond of 
less subtle tendencies.  Nothing gets the blood pumping like a good screaming match.  Me and 
Nicky have had some spectacular fights in our day.  Truly spectacular.  

Shit, I'm going to get all maudlin in a minute if I keep reflecting on our bygone days.  

So I plaster a grin on my face and let AJ escort me into the club and onto the dance floor.  
Really, of all of Aje's clubbing choices I'm one of the best for him.  I don't drink thanks to 
the horror that is my absentee father, I'm familiar with the Backstreet scene, and he's 
comfortable enough around me to cut loose a bit and be himself. 

AJ doesn't trust easily or let his defenses down.  I've had five years and a wonderful fling 
to worm myself into his heart as a decent friend and that means a lot to me.  Even if I don't 
always like the tattooed wonder boy.  

Hell, even when Nicky and I are actively dating AJ and I usually hit the dance scene once in 
awhile together whenever the boys are home from tour.  Its good for him, and even me.  

I'm hardly the best dancer and am usually too self conscious to have good moves.  Especially 
if I don't know my partner.  So, of all the people in the world the only ones I really feel 
comfortable dancing with are Nick and AJ, probably cause I've been in bed with both of them.  

Like AJ said, there's not a whole lot he hasn't already seen.

So it feels good to let loose myself sometimes, especially now.  To bury the hurt and pain and 
all the 'what ifs' and just get down and dirty with the king of provocative dancing.  An hour 
later and AJ has me laughing again, happy and almost relaxed.  

Until he spins me in a particularly ridiculous move that slams me up against a broad, 
expansive chest that I know too well.  A chest I've daydreamed about.  I swallow and look up, 
up into shocked blue eyes framed by a mop of thatched blonde hair that I've spent five years 
running my fingers through.  

"Nick..." I whisper.  

He starts to say something, stops, and swallows as his eyes dart to the woman at his side.  

And I get my first up and close look at Tiffany.  At beautiful, perfect Tiffany.  She's 
standing next to him, obviously his date without clinging to him, dressed in a tasteful but 
form fitting leather miniskirt and sleeveless silk blouse.  The skirt is black, top red, and 
her loose platinum hair gleams and shines like some damn Pantene Pro-V commercial.  She's 
tall and athletic and only a couple inches shorter than Nick, MY Nick, especially in her 
stiletto knee high leather boots.  

Is it possible to hate someone on sight?  

I know its possible to be entirely envious.  Because I've been Nick's girlfriend for five 
years, or two years and nine months, whatever.  Because I'm the one that belongs on his arm 
but, standing there before him, before them, I suddenly feel like the 'other' woman.  The 
embarrassment.  And I despise that feeling.  The feeling that I'm intruding on something so 
much better and right and perfect than anything me and him would ever be able to share.

"Corrie, what are you doing here?"  He reaches out to touch my arm and I step back, quickly, 
into AJ but I don't care.  I suddenly can't stand the thought of him touching me.  Not when 
she's there.  Especially when she's there.  

And oh the hurt in his baby blues cuts me to the quick.  But I'm not the one with a flesh and 
blood Barbie on his arm.  I'm not the one in love with someone else.  

"Don't touch me!"  I want to sound angry, furious even, but it comes out weak and desperate.

I don't do weak and desperate.  

I just don't.

"Honey, I was worried about you..."  His face is so damn sincere, eyes so wide and soulful.  
And I don't want to get into this right now.  I'm not ready, not emotionally prepared, so the 
barb leaves my lips before I can censure it  

"When, before or after screwing Malibu Barbie?"  Okay, okay it was a low blow but I cried over 
Nick Carter and I don't cry over any man.  

He sucks in a deep breath and stares at me, as surprised at the attack as I was of saying it.  
And then the vulnerability is gone and replaced by his public façade, his press face.  Nick 
glares me down with a shuttered gaze as he draws the so far silent Tiffany closer to him.  

"We broke up Corinne," he says, tone cold, formal, and stiff.  "We agreed a long time ago to 
date in between break ups."  

And oh I feel the stirrings of my Italian temper as I straighten at his tone and cross my arms 
protectively across my breast.  "We agreed to dating and casual screwing Nicky.  But you're in 
love."

"Maybe I am.  Hurts that after five years I've found someone else to share my heart with?  
Does it hurt that I found a blonde princess like Kevin and Brian?"  

Damn him and his childish cruel streak.  

And then freaking Tiffany comes to my rescue as she places a restraining, manicured, hand on 
his shoulder.  "Nick, baby, don't."  Nick pauses and visibly restrains himself as his new love 
steps forward with a killer smile and an extended hand.  "Hello, I'm Tiffany.  I'm sorry we 
had to meet like this..."  

I stare at Nick, then Tiffany's sincere sapphire eyes, before looking back at the strangely 
silent AJ.  "Is she for real?" I demand.  

AJ coughs in what sounds suspiciously like a disguised laugh.  "Umm... I'm afraid so kiddo."  

Great.  She really is perfect.  

Bitch.  

"I can't do this.  I'm leaving."  

I turn to leave and Nick lunges forward to grab my arm.  I swallow at his closeness, at his 
warmth.  God, I've missed him so much.  Heated eyes bore into my own.  "We're not done talking 
Corrie."  

I wrench my arm out of his grasp and glare daggers.  "We are for tonight."  

This time Nick or pretty, perfect Tiffany don't try to stop me as I leave.  AJ, after a 
moment of hesitation, follows me like a loyal tattooed puppy.  And I cry for the second time 
over Nick Carter as a somber Alexander James McLean drives me home.