Say You Crave Me (Full Moon, #4)

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Say You Crave Me (Full Moon, #4) Page 1

by Van Mol, Stefanie




  Say You

  Crave Me

  Stefanie Van Mol

  Full Moon series: book 4

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Say You Crave Me (Full Moon, #4)

  DON’T MISS OUT!

  ABOUT THIS BOOK

  ALSO BY STEFANIE VAN MOL

  Prologue | Max

  1 | Max

  2 | Valérie

  3 | Max

  4 | Valérie

  5 | Max

  5 | Valérie

  6 | Max

  7 | Valérie

  8 | Max

  9 | Valerie

  10 | Max

  11 | Valérie

  12 | Valérie

  13 | Max

  14 | Valérie

  15 | Max

  16 | Valerie

  17 | Max

  18 | Valerie

  19 | Max

  20 | Valérie

  21 | Max

  22 | Valérie

  ALSO BY STEFANIE VAN MOL

  Acknowledgments

  Say You Crave Me

  Full Moon series: book 4

  Cover Design: Vixen Designs

  Copy editor: Marla Selkow Esposito

  All rights reserved. No parts of the book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author, except for inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Visit my website at

  www.stefanievanmol.com

  A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

  This is for all the readers who have taken every little step together with me.

  DON’T MISS OUT!

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  ABOUT THIS BOOK

  Valèrie

  I scored my dream job at Hard Beats magazine.

  And even though I have to work for a jerk boss,

  I give it my all like I always do.

  Even when I’m forced to work for Full Moon

  and see Max, the lead singer, again,

  I’m positive I can do this.

  Apparently, he has his mind set on winning me back,

  but I haven’t forgotten what happened the last time.

  Max.

  Everyone thinks I have it all together.

  But there’s one misstep I have always regretted.

  My choice for fame cost me the love of my life.

  We’ll only be working together for a few weeks,

  so I don’t plan to waste a single minute.

  But one thing’s for sure:

  she’s not letting me win without a fight.

  ALSO BY STEFANIE VAN MOL

  FULL MOON SERIES

  Say You Want Me

  Say You Need Me

  Say You Desire Me

  Say You Crave Me

  Say You Cherish Me (Coming soon)

  Say You Love Me (coming soon)

  Prologue

  Max

  All this time I had a suspicion, but I’m glad I hadn’t discovered it before now. Then I would probably have put a stop to it. But if I am honest, I’m super happy for my little sister. She could not have found a better man than John. He is not only a member of our band, but he has been my best friend for years. So I am sure he will take good care of my little sister.

  I see how he looks at her, that little sparkle in his gaze every time she enters the room. The little extra effort he makes for her, by holding the door open for her, or how he goes with her to the coffee house on the other side of the concert hall—he may not like the location, but he goes with her anyway—to make sure Jolene can eat her favorite muffin. That is love, or that is how I see it. I can’t talk about it myself. I’ve only been in love once, and that didn’t end very well. Since then, of course, I have had a few girlfriends, but I have never felt the urge to go to extremes for the wishes of those girls. And that’s why I know it wasn’t love.

  When John came to ask me a few weeks ago if he could marry my sister, it didn’t come as a surprise. Many would find it too fast, but those two have something unique. You can already see that. Since he can no longer ask my father, he felt it was his duty to ask me. A gesture for which I will be forever grateful to him. Of course, I gave him the usual do-my-sister-harm-and-I-know-where-to-find-you speech, but he only looked at me sincerely and promised me that he will never intentionally hurt her. Of course, he is and remains John; he will make mistakes, but he has assured me that he will always be there for her to dry her tears if he ever does something that upsets her.

  We just finished celebrating Jonathan and Camille’s wedding and now we can begin preparing for a new party. And that is exactly why we are here today. I look around the cold room. Apart from a few tables and chairs, there is not much. Which is good, because otherwise, not everyone would fit in here. The entire place is filled with the murmur of journalists, reporters, and photographers who are busy making phone calls, talking to colleagues, taking notes and just waiting. A few photographers are busy focusing their lenses—because they could take the picture of the week; this last thought makes me bitter. I don’t enjoy seeing my face on the front page of gossip magazines. This is all a part of fame I will never get used to. Any event that happens in our lives is spread out long and wide in the gossip magazines. I remember how bad it was when our parents died. When the first reporter appeared at the door, Jolene’s heart broke. Then I made it clear in a press release that this was a private matter, and that the funeral would be an intimate gathering of family and close friends and to please respect our privacy at that time.

  Fortunately, they showed respect for only that time, and that is why we are here now. In talking with Jolene and John, we decided to organize this press conference. The last few days my phone has been blowing up with all kinds of magazines wanting to know everything about their engagement and upcoming wedding. That is why they will answer all the questions the reporters have during the press conference in a moment. Nobody knew about their relationship; they even managed to keep it hidden from the band members and me for a long time, so I can imagine that there will be many questions.

  My role at this press conference will be to act as managerI am at the press conference acting as manager. Joe, our last manager, is still in prison after he was convicted for the murder of Vincent. Vincent was Sticks, our drummer’s little brother , and I’ve had to take over all his duties from him. I couldn’t tell you exactly how that happened. It just happened. We did not decide unanimously, but gradually a large part of his duties have ended up as my responsibility. I’ve always been an organized person and at this moment that came in handy. The band is just not ready to hire a new manager yet, but some tasks still need to be carried out.

  Jolene and John come and stand with me, and as soon as we walk into the hall together, it comes to a standstill. They sit down at the table that is waiting for us, and I sit next to them. All eyes are raised from whatever they were doing and are trained on the three of us.

  I start with a brief welcome to everyone. “Good afternoon everyone, welcome to this press conference. As you know, John and Jolene got engaged earlier this week, and they are here today to answer all your questions. So, ask away.”

  A few journalists immediately set to work. “Was it love at first sight?”

  John is respons
ible for that question. “I wouldn’t say love at first sight, but I knew from the first time I saw her that she was going to change my life.”

  I’m pretty sure that all the female journalists just fell in love with him. How could it be otherwise if he tells such romantic nonsense? Where is the John I know—the tough guitarist of Full Moon—and what did my sister do with him? It’s all I can do to keep myself from rolling my eyes. Imagine if one of the reporters captured that on camera! Jolene would have me by the balls for that.

  “Will the upcoming marriage disrupt any plans for the band?”

  I am happy to take care of this question, and before Jolene or John can answer it, I take the floor. “The plans for the band remain unchanged so far, but that will only become clear when the wedding plans become more concrete.”

  “So there is a possibility that the tour will change?” the journalist from the first row asks.

  “Family and friendship have always been a priority in our band. When Jonathan’s brother fell ill, we canceled our tour without hesitation. After the death of his brother we took a short break. I don’t see why we can’t adjust the tour a little this time. After all, we are only people.”

  “So, for family and friendship, you change the plans that have been already scheduled?”

  I cannot tell straightaway who is making this comment. It is a woman’s voice coming from somewhere in the back of the room. But I can’t see the face of the journalist in question because of the crowd of journalists and reporters in front of her. She should be glad I don’t see her because otherwise, I would have treated her to an evil look. “Absolutely; family and the band members always come first.”

  “That’s new,” she mumbles.

  John and Jolene look at me in shock, and the other reporters are also turning in the direction of the journalist who commented. Now I’ve had it; I don’t know who she is or who she thinks she is, but I won’t let her question my words. We organized this press conference for them to show that we appreciate what they did after the death of my parents, but enough is enough. “This press conference is over, thanks to Ms...”

  The journalists move aside, and the reporter in question takes a step forward. As soon as she appears, I get the full effect. My gaze starts with her shoes—a pair of silver-colored, high heels. My eyes glide up along her long legs. She’s wearing a black pencil skirt with a white blouse. She must notice that I am gazing at her because she crosses her arms in front of her and taps her shoe on the floor.

  “Libaert,” she introduces herself. “Valérie Libaert. The girl you left behind for the band that values friendship and family so much.”

  Holy shit!

  My gaze shoots up to her face, and it feels like someone has punched me in my stomach. It’s her! I can’t believe she’s here. It’s been years since I last saw her, but, of course, I still recognize her. Her dark brown curls, her deep green eyes, her sensual lips and the little mole above the right corner of her mouth. All the details come back to my memory bursting like a lightning bolt.

  Only then do I realize that it is not lightning in my memory, but camera flashes that almost blind me. All the photographers in the room start taking pictures of her and me. It feels like I’m nailed to my chair and can’t move anymore. Valérie gives me one last angry look, then turns around and leaves the room. All the journalists turn to me again and storm me with questions, but I am too shocked to answer.

  John stands up and gives a sign to Mike. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Mike announces with a grumpy voice, “the press conference is over; if everyone would be so kind as to exit the room.”

  I sit at the table, stunned into silence. I can’t believe she’s here. I never thought I would ever see her again. But Valérie was only a few feet away from me. Valérie, the girl I left behind when I chose Full Moon. She is the only woman I have ever loved. Leaving her is the only decision I have ever regretted in my life. She’s the one who got away, and if she thinks I’ll just let her go again, she’s wrong.

  I jump up from my chair and run to the door. I make my way through the journalists, reporters, and photographers who, of course, start retaking pictures. But fuck if I care. The most important thing is that I catch up with Valérie and demand that she listen to me. For once I don’t care if I’ll be in all the gossip magazines tomorrow, as long as I can stop her and have a chance to talk to her. When I get outside, I look around but don’t see her immediately, until I catch a glimpse of her going through the revolving door at the front of the hotel. I run after her. It’s not every day that you get the chance to correct a mistake from the past.

  I run through the lobby of the hotel, out the revolving door I just saw her exit and look around again. Valérie is a little farther away, but when she looks back and sees me, the look in her eyes changes. Her eyes grow wide as if she can’t believe I’m following her. She turns around and starts walking faster. In her hurry, she doesn’t look where she is walking, and the heel of her right shoe gets stuck in a crack in the uneven sidewalk. On one leg, she hops on, and for a moment it looks like she might fall out onto the street. When she finally manages to find her balance, her right shoe has fallen off her foot. She looks over her shoulder and when she sees me closing in on her, she takes off her left shoe, takes it in her hand and runs on until she gets to her car. Even before I can reach her, she is behind the wheel pressing the door lock button.

  When I get to her car I pull the handle, but the door doesn’t open. If she thinks I’ll let her go this easily, she’s mistaken. I slam my palm on the window.

  “Open up, Valérie,” I demand. “Let’s go somewhere to talk.”

  She grabs the steering wheel and squeezes so hard that her knuckles turn white. Her nostrils flare and without even looking at me, she replies, “I have nothing more to say to you.”

  She presses the ignition button and starts the engine. Without looking back, she drives away. I barely have a chance to jump aside to prevent her from riding over my feet, and it’s clear that she is still angry with me. I keep watching her until I only see the rear lights of her car at the end of the street.

  I return to her shoe, which is still on the sidewalk, and pick it up. The silver pump has a heel of at least five inches. It is a miracle that she can walk with such stilts on her feet. With her shoe in my hand, I walk back to the hotel to make my way to the room where the press conference was held. Along the way, a few journalists stop me to ask questions, but I ignore them. Whatever questions they may have, I can’t and won’t answer them now. Luckily, Mike is waiting for me at the door. He lets me in and then keeps the journalists out. At times like this, I am very grateful for Mike’s presence. Jolene and John are waiting for me in the room where we just had the shortest press conference ever.

  Jolene immediately comes over to me. “Are you all right?” she asks worriedly.

  “Yes, everything is fine.”

  “Were you able to talk to her?”

  “No, she drove off before I got the chance.” I show the shoe to Jolene. “This is the only thing she left behind.”

  “Was that Valérie, your old girlfriend?”

  I see the grin on Jolene’s face. “That was her,” I confirm. “The one and only.”

  “What are you going to do now?”

  “Whatever it takes to get her back here; it’s time I correct my past mistakes.”

  John stands behind Jolene and puts his hands on her shoulders. “We have to go. I’ve reserved a table at the pizzeria.” John is looking at me. “If you like, you can come with us.”

  “No, no, I wouldn’t want to get in the way of you two lovebirds. And now I have other things to do.”

  “Like?” Jolene asks while looking at me in question. “Should I start worrying?”

  “I’ll manage, sister. You go.”

  1

  Max

  I stare at the screen of my laptop. Thanks to the Internet, you can learn so much about someone nowadays. It’s almost sad when you think about what someone migh
t know about you without you even noticing. So today, I plan on becoming a little wiser about Valérie. When I saw her yesterday, I knew I needed to know more about her. I feel like a stalker, but I have to know everything. My search started on Facebook. She has a profile there, but I didn’t get to see anything more than a few pictures because she has her profile set to private, obviously for people like me who are looking for more information about her.

  Of the few pictures I can see, at least I don’t see a man, so that is a little reassurance. Not that it would matter to me if she had a boyfriend. She may not know it yet, but I plan on doing everything I can to win her back. Since the search on Facebook didn’t make me much wiser, I type her name into Google. And now I know the reason why she was at the press conference.

  Her name is on the website of Hard Beats, where she recently started working as a reporter. I am not surprised. She used to be curious about everything that happened in our community, even though nothing really exciting ever happened since we lived in a small town. When we were at school, she chose to study journalism, and I had always supported her until I quit school to make my dream in the music world come true.

  I still remember perfectly how our last evening together went.

  “I HAVE GREAT NEWS. Call me when you get this.”

  With the news that we have found a manager and that our band is finally going to get its break, there is only one person I want to call: Valérie. She’s pretty much all I think about lately, aside from the band, and she has always supported me, so I want to share the good news with her first. Unfortunately, I don’t get her on the phone, so I leave a message on her answering machine. We’ve been dating for a few months now, and she knows how hard the band and I have worked on our career.

  When I still don’t get an answer a few hours later, I go to her house. I knock on the door, but nobody comes. I’m about to turn around and leave when I hear the lock of the door being turned and see the door open a crack. The first thing I notice is how her eyes are red and swollen. The tears are still in her eyes when she looks up to me.

 

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