CHAPTER 67

Kevin was scraping plates into the garbage when Nick approached him from behind.

”S’everything okay, Kev?”

Kevin’s shoulders stiffened. “Fine. Everything’s fine…,” he mumbled. “Connie said to apologize to you guys. She was tired.” He had yet to turn around.

The ever-observant Howie stared at Kevin from where he was leaning against the refrigerator. Everything was not fine despite Kevin’s claims to the contrary. He hadn’t meant to insinuate himself into Kevin’s personal life and felt a certain amount of responsibility for the bad turn the evening had taken. After all, this compromise had been his idea.

“Kev,” Howie started, “I’m sorry if this situation has caused problems for you. I really am. I was just afraid that a standoff with the label would result in some kind of ultimatum that would be worse, ‘ya know?”

“Don’t worry about it…” Kevin had yet to turn around. His scraping had become more furious.

Howie was determined to make this as easy on everyone as possible but his next suggestion was strongly misplaced. Even Nick could see that and his eyes grew wide as Howie went on.

“You know, if this is gonna put a strain on things, I’ve got an empty condo in Kissimmee…” Nick began shaking his head in warning. Kevin paused. He still didn’t turn. He just listened. “It’s furnished and everything. Connie’s welcome to stay there until this mess blows over. It might be easier on both of you and…”

Kevin didn’t wait to hear anymore. In the next instant, the sound of a dinner plate crashing to the floor stopped Howie’s monologue and Kevin turned.

“Don’t go there, Howie,” Kevin warned. “Connie’s not leaving here. I’m not gonna let that happen.”

“I was just trying to help…” Howie frowned. “I thought…”

“Don’t think!” Kevin shouted. “You’ve thought enough today to last a lifetime! We’ll get through this, okay? There’s a lot you don’t understand.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re right!” Howie shouted back. “But I understand you, Kevin! Goddamn, I should after almost ten tears! You have this need to control everything, including Connie! This is only for a few weeks. What the hell are you afraid of?”

Kevin’s body stiffened and his face grew red. “Right now, I’m afraid that if you don’t shut the fuck up, you’re gonna start this tour with a goddamn broken nose…” he growled, taking a step forward.

Instinctively, Nick jumped between his two bandmates. Tensions were always high before a tour began, even under the best of circumstances and present circumstances could hardly be called ideal. Everyone was worn out by the constant promotion and rehearsals. Personal problems only complicated matters. Howie knew this and had tried to come up with a reasonable solution. Kevin knew it too but had felt that ‘solutions’ weren’t necessary for a problem that shouldn’t exist to begin with. His anger with the label and with their management was being vented at the nearest scapegoat – Howie.

“Easy, you two…” Nick scolded. “This will work out… This is just for a few weeks. A couple of months at the most, right?” His nods were going unheeded by his two brothers who continued to glare at each other. “RIGHT?” he repeated loudly.

Nick’s question was met with two stubborn sighs.

“Right…” Howie mumbled.

“Fuck. I guess….” Kevin relented. “I just don’t like this, that’s all.”

Howie couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “No shit…”

*****

Kevin’s bedroom was dark except for the narrow band of light that shone through the bathroom door. The light would have been unnecessary if they had gone to bed together. Connie no longer worried about cracked doors and electrical failures if Kevin was with her. As he stood beside the bed and gazed at her shadowed form, Howie’s question came back to haunt him. What the hell are you afraid of?

It unnerved him to realize that he was afraid at all. Howie’s question had hit a tender spot in Kevin’s psyche. Superficially, he was afraid that his life would be too much for Connie. She had been untouched by the chains of fame. Everything was still simple to her. The complexities of fandom and the business were things she had never seriously considered because they had been so far removed from her daily life. Six months ago, she hadn’t even known who the Backstreet Boys were and now she was up to her neck in plots, plans and spins.

On a much deeper level, Kevin was afraid that he would fail as a partner. Her deafness did nothing to diminish his love for her but it did increase his tendency to control and protect. It also threw up a wall between them that he would have to ignore or climb over. Hannah had warned him that it wouldn’t be easy and there were times that it wasn’t. Connie had even hinted at the warnings she had received from deaf and hearing friends alike – warnings that the kind of love they shared was doomed to failure because simple, day-to-day frustrations would eat them alive.

Kevin was loath to admit that he had already experienced some of those frustrations. The pleasure of lying beside your lover in the darkness and whispering sweet nothings or admitting fears was something he wouldn’t be able to share with Connie. Holding her against his body and murmuring loving, comforting or passionate words would mean nothing to her. The guttural sounds of lovemaking, the cries of ecstasy would never reach her broken ears. He was ashamed of his feelings of discouragement and fought to overcome them. Usually, he succeded. But tonight, as he stood watching her dream, all he wanted was to crawl into the bed and hold her close. He wanted to be able to tell her how he felt in the darkness. He wanted the freedom of anonymous confession.

Connie didn’t know that he had been trying to do some research on the side. Although the nature of their relationship demanded a certain honesty, he knew that she was sensitive about her disability, perhaps even more than might be typical because she had been able to hear once and knew, not only what she was now missing, but what her deafness caused those around her to miss, as well. Her accident had not affected her alone, but everyone who cared about her. Kevin was still learning so much – not only about Connie, but also about himself.

Last week, he had stood in the entryway to the great room watching Connie watch television. She was looking at show called ‘Book News and Reviews’. The sound was muted but the interview format of the program included a signer whose upper body was projected in the bottom left-hand corner of the screen. Kevin had been fascinated watching Connie react to the signals and movements of the signer. She would smile, frown and even chuckle as the signer’s hands drew abbreviated pictures in the air. She was lost in an exclusive space that didn’t include him.

Kevin could learn to sign but that ability was almost unnecessary since Connie could read lips so well. It was soon after the broadcast that Kevin’s curiosity caused him to surf the internet and try to learn a little about the language of the deaf. His interest was piqued when he came across an article about Helen Keller, who was not only deaf but blind as well. Like Connie in the darkness… No wonder it frightens her so much… He learned that Miss Keller ‘listened’ to people through a series of hand signals that represented individual letters and words – signals that she felt with her own hands so that she didn’t have to see them. Kevin had printed out the drawings that depicted finger placements for letters and had been studying them when he managed to find a few moments alone or when he thought no one was looking. He wasn’t even sure if Connie knew this ‘language’ or if he could ‘speak’ it in an understandable way, but he was about to find out.

After he stripped himself of his clothing, he stepped over to a bedside table and lit one of the candles that he had strategically placed far enough away from the bed to be unobtrusive, yet close enough to afford Connie a dim view of his face. Then, Kevin stepped over to the dresser and fumbled for a coated rubberband. He pulled his hair back into ponytail. He planned to be on top of her tonight and didn’t want wayward strands of hair obstructing his view – or hers.

He regretted making the remark about her choices when it came to men but felt that, from what he knew, he had spoken the truth. Kevin didn’t really hate Nick Lachey. He just felt like the guy thought a little too much of himself and had an ego that effectively blocked the idea that he was unable to have any woman he wanted. He would have to make sure that Lachey knew better than to try his powers of seduction on Connie. Kevin’s feelings of jealousy irritated him, making him feel like a schoolboy. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this type of possessiveness.

When his knee pressed onto the mattress, Connie murmured and rolled onto her back. The knit tank she wore stretched against the rise of her breasts and the flickering candle created small shadows beneath her nipples as they hardened in the cool breeze emanating from the ceiling fan. Kevin felt himself harden as well and closed his eyes for a moment as he ran his middle finger lightly down the underside of his erection, savoring the tight heat of his own skin. He felt a surge of power, leaning over her this way, teasing himself with his fingers.

Her top was fastened together with ties which were easily undone with a gentle tug. He managed to lift the fabric and expose her upper body without waking her. Her arms were above her head creating a provocative pose that he could not have deliberately arranged to be more enticing. Kevin’s head began to swim as his own gentle touches moved into purposeful strokes. He had to be inside of her. Now. There would be no foreplay. It wouldn’t matter whether or not she was wet because his substantial amount of pre-cum would provide enough lubrication to assure pain free penetration.

It was only when he snatched her panties down her legs that Connie awoke. She jerked herself up and out of sleep, unaware of what was happening and frightened by the sudden ambush. Her vision was still unfocused when she began to cry out in protest but widened as Kevin’s hand covered her mouth, silencing her. His eyes were on fire, not with anger but with a serious intensity that both scared and excited her.

“No talking, Connie,” he ordered. “Do you understand?” She nodded and he removed his hand, positioned himself between her legs and pushed her top back and off of her shoulders. “Lay down.”

When she fell back against the pillow. Kevin laid himself on top of her, taking a moment to relish the feel of her breasts mashing against his chest, of her soft pubic hair tickling his testicles as he moved his hips against hers. Then he stopped and raised himself on his elbows and twisted his fingers into her curls.

“Can you see me, Connie?” he asked, staring into her eyes.

“Yes…” she whispered.

“Shush, baby. I told you, ‘No talking…’”

When Connie nodded, Kevin’s lips curved into a small smile. He was pleased with her acquiescence.

“Am I gonna make you feel good, Connie?”

Her lips parted and she nodded once again in response.

“Good girl…”

He lunged into her with those words still on is lips, taking Connie by surprise and causing his own head to drop in fevered ecstasy as her back arched to meet his initial thrust. When Kevin looked into her face again, her eyes had closed and her soft moans, plaintive and sweet, danced in his ears. He twisted her hair a little tighter, capturing her attention. He wanted badly to move but had one more edict to issue.

“Connie,” he panted, trying desperately to hang on to a thread of control, “ in St. Petersburg you asked me what my ‘number’ was. Do you remember?”

“Kevin…”

“Do you? Do you remember?”

“Yeeeesss…,” she groaned as her frustration mounted.

“You said that after I took you, your number was two…”

“Yes, yes, yes….,” she whimpered, trying to move her hips against his.

“Well, baby…. When these touring weeks are finished – when this fuckin’ charade is over – your number had still better be two…”

Kevin’s mouth covered hers, disallowing any response, and he began to pump furiously. His tongue remained in her mouth until his groans of release echoed in her throat and her back arched in one final spasm of bliss. He remained inside of her, delighting in the intensity of her contractions and when they finally subsided, he rolled off of her and onto his back, exhausted and fulfilled. After a minute or two, he turned his head and looked at his lover. Connie hadn’t moved. Here eyes were open and she appeared to be staring at the ceiling as if she were in mild shock.

Kevin took her hand and wrapped it, as best he could, against his fingers. Connie’s breath hitched in her throat has she felt his fingers move against her palm. She wasn’t looking at him, yet he was talking to her and she was able to understand. Slowly and hesitantly, Kevin’s fingers were giving her a message - the most basic and meaningful of messages. When he was finished, she brought his hand up to her mouth and tenderly kissed each of his fingers.

“I love you, too…”

Chapter 68

“Is this party supposed to be dressy or casual?”

Connie was pushing through her clothes that hung in the closet space that Kevin had cleared for her as he sat on the bed and watched. He waited for her to stick her head out of the door to catch his answer. Finally, she tilted backwards to look at him.

“Casual…” he answered dully, he expression betraying a hint of disgust.

“Oh..okay…”

Connie returned to her hangers as Kevin’s mouth dipped into a full-blown scowl. God, he hated this. Connie seemed a little too excited about this party, in his opinion. Lachey would be picking her up in two hours. He knew he should leave first but he wanted to set a few parameters with Connie’s ‘date’. Her head popped out of the closet once more.

“Tell me if you think this is okay…”

“Jesus, Connie… You can pick out your own clothes! Wear whatever you…”

“How ‘bout this?” Connie held up a pair black, low-slung pants she had paired with a long-sleeved cropped top.

Kevin studied the ensemble, zeroing in on the pants zipper, which looked to him to be about an inch and a half long.

“What do you have to do – tape them to your belly so they won’t fall down? Maybe spackle your butt crack?” Kevin snorted humorlessly. “Do you have time to ‘shave’ before you leave?”

“Now, Kevin…,” Connie teased. “You and I both know that ‘shaving’ is not a problem for me. One of the blessings of being a redhead…” She shook her head and hung the pants back up. “This?”, she asked, bringing out a leather skirt to replace the pants.

Kevin rolled his eyes. “Kinda on the short side, isn’t it?”

“Oooookay…” Connie rehung the skirt. She brought out a knit dress that looked to Kevin to be the size of a pillowcase.

“What the hell is that?” he frowned.

“It’s a dress. It stretches…”

“I hope so. I don’t think that thing would cover my left nut…”

“Oh, are we bragging?”

Kevin was not amused. He stood up, hitching the sheet around his waist before pushing his hair back with his fingers.

“Just wear whatever you want,” Kevin sighed, frustrated. “Goddamn, I feel like a pimp, decidin’ what you should wear to go out with another man!” Kevin stumbled towards the bathroom, mumbling under his breath. “This shit sucks major ass….”

*****

As Kevin helped set the table, Connie stood at the refrigerator, putting ice in their glasses. He couldn’t help but watch her. She seemed all right. More than all right. Maybe even a little excited. It was annoying the hell out of him.

“You decide what you’re gonna wear?” Kevin asked coolly as Connie returned to the table.

“I think so…” she answered.

Silence.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Well, what the fuck are you gonna wear on your….your ‘date’?” Kevin accentuated the word ‘date’ with an exaggerated expression of disdain.

Connie studied him carefully. She didn’t get his problem. It was obvious that Kevin was unhappy but all she was trying to do was make this evening as pain free as possible. She had been mad and hurt when he had explained what had happened at the meeting and had, in fact, cast part of the blame for this on Kevin. She understood that her disability could cause a reluctance to include her as part of a Backstreet entourage. She didn’t like it and been fighting the fears of others for several years now but she was trying to be fair and had come to accept that her inclusion in some events might take a little time and education. It was this choreographed separation from Kevin on a personal level that she didn’t understand – or hadn’t understood. He seemed to have accepted the decision of the label and management with only faint objection.

“A skirt and sweater, I think….,” She answered absently.

“Ummm…. Yeah. I guess that sounds okay….,” he nodded, dipping into his pasta.

Connie sighed inwardly. It wasn’t as if she had asked him for his approval but, apparently, he felt compelled to give it anyway. Her thoughts returned to the situation at hand. Connie had not been ‘understanding’ about this plot to put a ‘casual’ spin on their relationship, however between the time that Kevin had given her the ‘news’ and the time Howie and Nick had come over for dinner, she had had a short time to pout. She had chosen to pout in front of her computer. When her IM ‘buddy’ list popped up, she had scarcely paid attention. Then she got an IM. An IM from AJ. To say that Connie was surprised was an understatement.

After the preliminary ‘How ‘ya doings’ and ‘Whatssups’, AJ had danced himself to the real point of his instant message. He had wanted to know how she felt about the outcome of the day’s meeting. By the time their brief conversation had ended, Connie had received a degree of enlightenment. She had come to realize that Kevin had been very upset about the decision, especially since most of it had been based – not on Connie’s liability – but on Backstreet PR and Kevin’s perceived vulnerability, in particular. She learned that the Boy’s ‘availability’ was important, which was a sore spot anyway since they were no longer ‘boys’ but men. That could have been dealt with in most of their cases but considering the confusion and questions over what had happened between Kevin and Brandi such a short time ago, circumstances were more ‘sensitive’ than usual. ‘Just surf a little…,’ AJ had advised. ‘….and you’ll understand a little more better.’

In the short time remaining, Connie had done just that and by the time Howie and Nick had arrived, she had decided to make this as easy for Kevin as she could. Her good intentions seemed to be backfiring, however. Kevin was sulking and petulant – downright pissy.

“How’d you get hold of Lachey, anyway?” Kevin asked. “It’s not like you run into him everyday…”

“I emailed Jive and asked them to ask him to email me about the party,” Connie smiled.

“Well, thank God for computers!” Kevin’s expression was the picture of sarcasm.

Connie pushed her chair back from the table and carried her plate to the sink. Her and Kevin’s roles in this ridiculous play seemed to have reversed. In her mind, Kevin should be playing the nice guy while she took on the cloak of righteous indignation. Still, she tried to be patient. She didn’t want to argue and Kevin already looked burdened.

“Guess I’ll go get ready….”

She turned to him as she spoke but he made no reply other than to toss his fork onto his plate.

“Does he know you’re deaf?” he finally asked.

“Yes.”

He hadn’t expected a positive response and felt a another swell of irritation begin to rise in his belly. “You told you him you were deaf?”

“Yes…”

Kevin threw his napkin down on his plate and shoved his chair back. He knew that his reaction was irrational but he was still angry. Again his expression, after his initial surprise, became laced with an unfounded bitterness.

“What’s wrong?” Connie asked, confused.

“Oh nothing…,” he spat and began to pace in front of her. “I just find it a little odd that it was weeks before I found out that you couldn’t hear…” He stopped and wagged his finger in front of her face. “…and not from you, I might add! You didn’t want to tell me, yet Lachey has already been informed of this fact - personally!”

“You know how I felt about that!” Connie spat defensively. “That was business! You know – the book!”

Kevin crossed his arms and bore down on her. “And this is….what? Pleasure?”

Connie followed his lead and crossed her arms as well, refusing to be intimidated. His territorial jealousy might have been amusing or even sweet if it weren’t so accusatory. “Look, Kevin – you just remember that none of this was my doing! I’d be happy to stay home alone except for two things. One – you’ve made it clear that the label wants me seen with other people so that no ‘suspicions’ will be raised and two – I’d like to be with you, even if it’s across a crowded room! Besides, call me ‘old fashioned’, but I don’t particularly enjoy asking men out on dates!”

Kevin’s eyes narrowed into slits. “So…. You do consider this a date…”

Connie’s arms dropped to side in defeat. Apparently, Kevin had only heard her last sentence. God, he is sooooo bullheaded! Last night, his lovemaking had been fierce, edgy and riddled with unspoken demands. This afternoon, they had spent hours in bed as she did her best to reassure him that his demands would be met and that this imposed inconvenience would pass with no harm being done. Tomorrow the group would leave for Ft. Lauderdale to begin their tour. It might be days before she saw him again.

“Kevin…,” she sighed tiredly. “It’s getting late. I’m going to get dressed…”