The next couple of weeks were different and Jennifer blamed the shoot. A.J. had loosened up some and teased her unmercifully about it. Howie asked when she was going to star in a video with him and Brian didn’t say anything. She wanted to ask him about it but then decided against it. Why would he care? Things were definitely changed between her and Nick. He was with her every time they got an extra minute. She hoped it wasn’t as serious as it seemed, but was afraid it was. They had been close before and she wanted that friendship to continue. Even though something had happened, she didn’t want it to go any further than that set. She still had feelings for Brian . . . not Nick. But the way that Brian ignored her and never did anything to show that he was interested in her the way she was in him, pushed her closer and closer to Nick.
It had been almost six months since her break-up with Ty and she was missing what a relationship gave her. She wanted that with Brian, but it seemed that it was Nick who wanted to give that back. She was still concerned about the band and now she had the age difference to contend with. But if things didn’t change soon, she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to hold Nick back, or herself. He was charming, sweet, sensitive, and . . . well, a wonderful kisser. He seemed determined to pursue her even if she didn’t want it. At least, she didn’t think she wanted it. The whole thing was so confusing and she blamed herself.
Jennifer walked out of the bus, determined to get a little fresh air before she went to bed. It was a gorgeous night . . . the crickets were singing, the moon was full, a light breeze was blowing. When she stepped off the bus and into the night air, soft guitar music met her ears. She looked over to the right to find Howie sitting on a lawn chair, strumming on his guitar. He was softly singing along with his playing and Jennifer recognized the tune. It was “I’ll Never Let You Go”, the song from the video they had just shot on video a week ago. As she walked over to him, she quickly realized he was singing it in Spanish.
“Nunca lastimaria tu corazon, Nunca te hare llorar. Prefiero morir que vivir sin ti.” Howie looked up to see Jennifer standing over him, a smile on her face. He stopped playing and smiled up at her. “Hi. I didn’t know I had an audience.”
“That was beautiful,” she said quietly, touched at his beautiful voice, even though she didn’t understand what he was saying. “Was that ‘I’ll Never Let You Go’?”
“Yeah,” he said, setting his guitar on the ground beside him. “We’re thinking about releasing a Spanish version of it.”
“I think you should. It’s beautiful.”
He waved her over to the empty lawn chair sitting beside him. “Here, have a seat,” he said, patting the empty chair. She walked around him and sat down, smiling over at him.
“You’re multi-talented,” she observed, looking up into the night sky. It seemed as if there were a million stars, all twinkling down on them this beautiful night.
“Well, I try to be,” he said, laughing. “You never know when this ride is going to be over,” he observed, knowing full well that even though the BSB were popular today, they might not be tomorrow.
“You guys still have a long time before this ride ends,” she said, looking over at him.
“Thanks,” he said, nodding his head at her. They both sat for a moment, neither saying anything as they took in the still night. Then looking over at her, he suddenly said, “Those hamburgers you cooked last week were great!”
She looked over at him, surprised at his comment. “Thanks!” she said laughing. “What brought that up?”
“I was thinking that I should cook for you some time.”
“You cook?” she asked, incredulous.
“Yeah,” he replied, looking back into the night. “I cooked a lot before you came along.”
“Why did you stop?” she asked.
“It’s nice to have someone else do it for a change.” He looked over at her and smiled, “I think they were getting sick of the same ole’ thing.”
“That’s an easy rut to get into.”
“I don’t do hamburgers,” he said laughing. “And A.J. loves his burgers!”
“So what kind of stuff do you cook?” she said, leaning her head back against the back of the chair as she watched him.
“Oh, you know . . . Chinese, oriental type foods.”
“Wow!” she exclaimed, raising her head to peer at him once more. “I’m impressed.”
“The guys were too, at first,” he said. “But then they got sick of it. They wanted some good old-fashioned American food.”
“You mean hamburgers, meat loaf, potatoes . . .”
“Yeah,” he replied, laughing with her. “They’re kind of the meat and potatoes type guys.”
She smiled over at Howie. “But not you?”
“Oh, I like that kind of stuff,” he said, sitting forward and grasping a tall blade of grass that grew underneath his chair. He stripped it and then placed the end in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully on the end. “It’s just not my favorite.”
“So . . . I know what you like to eat,” she said, leaning her head back once more, closing her eyes as she listened to the crickets chirping their summer songs. “What else do you like? I figured out the guitar playing.” She smiled then, her white even teeth shining in the dimming light.
He looked over at her, noticing just how beautiful she really was. “Well, I like to water ski, swim and sing of course.” He stopped long enough to let his gaze travel from her face, slowly moving down her slim figure to her shapely legs that swung gracefully underneath her chair and then back up again to find her eyes on him. “Eres bella,” he said softly.
She tilted her head to one side as her eyebrows furrowed together at his words. “What?”
