Be The One (Crave #2)

by Nina Levine

  I frown. “Have the police contacted you?”

  Shaking his head, he says, “No . . . fuck, Jett, I didn’t do this. Sure, I slept with her, but she was the one begging for it, not me.” He rakes his fingers through his hair and begins pacing the room.

  “I believe you, man.” I look at Tom and tell him my thoughts. “She obviously wants cash if she’s gone to a magazine - ”

  West cuts me off. “I’m not fucking giving that bitch a cent!” he roars.

  “That wasn’t what I was going to suggest. I’m just thinking out loud here, and what I’m thinking is the likelihood of her going to the police over this is slim, which is good for you.”

  “We’re on the same page here,” Tom agrees, “so I think the first thing we need to do is either make a statement or do an interview while at the same time do some digging on this woman and find out who she is and what shit she’s into. I bet she’s covered in dirt herself.”

  “I don’t think West is up to an interview just yet so we’ll put out a statement and go from there. If we need to do an interview later, we’ll do it,” I reply. Looking at West, I add, “And when I say we, I mean all of us. We’ve got your back, man.”

  “This is fucking bullshit!” Van thunders, his eyes blazing. Glaring at West, he says, “If you could keep your dick in your pants for longer than a minute, this kind of shit wouldn’t happen. We’re just about to launch a new album and we need all the fans we can get to support that album. This kind of shit won’t support it.”

  My gaze snaps to Van and I look at him with disgust. “I can’t fucking believe you just said that.”

  “It’s the truth, Jett, and you know it. You’re the one concerned about changing our sound so I would think you’d agree with me on this.”

  “Yeah, I’m worried about that, but fuck, West is our family, and I’m more concerned about him at the moment, and you should be, too. Jesus, Van, if this kind of shit happened to you, you’d want all of us to have your back.”

  West butts in, “Fuck you, Van. I might think you’re an asshole but I’ve always been behind you when you’re going through shit. That bitch begged me to fuck her, and I sure as hell know that if it’d been you she was begging, you’d have fucked her too, so don’t give me this bullshit about me keeping my dick in my pants, ‘cause yours is never in your pants, either.” West is wound tight and looks like he’s just holding it together. One more word out of Van and I’m sure West will punch him.

  Just as I’m about to call for a time out, Hunter steps into the conversation. Pointing at Van, he says, “You, shut up; nothing productive is coming out of your mouth so until you have something useful to say, don’t say another fucking word.” Then he points at West. “You, go home, shower and have something to eat and then either come back or have a sleep, ‘cause you look like you’re three days into an apocalypse, and I’m pretty sure you need a minute to yourself to sort through the shit running through your mind.” And finally, he looks at me. “And you and I are going to regroup and form a plan to deal with this, ‘cause I don’t think sitting back, making a statement and waiting to see what we can dig up on that bitch will cut it. Van might be an asshole but he’s right, we need to do everything we can to make sure this album sells, and while I’m not saying West is at fault here, we’re in this shit now, and we’ve gotta work with what we have.”

  When Hunter speaks, we all listen. He’s a man of few words but he’s the smartest one in our group, and, usually, when he speaks like this, he’s right. I nod at him and then ask West, “Do you want me to drive you home?”

  Grabbing his keys, he shakes his head. “No.” And with that, he leaves.

  As soon as he’s out the door, I slump into the couch and drop my head into my hands. No one says a word; we’re all lost in our own thoughts. Eventually, I look back up at them and say, “This shit is so unfair. West is a good guy and he gets this?” In this moment, I truly despise the dark side of this business. The lies they tell to sell magazines, the stalking they do to get a photo, the smack they talk to try and get money out of you. I just want to write songs that mean something and sing them to people who want to hear them. Why the fuck should we have to go through all that other bullshit to be able to do what we love?

  Van has kept quiet since Hunter told him to but he stands and mutters, “I’m out for today. If I sit here another minute, I’m gonna punch something. You two figure out whatever you want; I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “What the fuck?” I demand, stunned he would leave at a time like this. “You’re just going to leave when we’re in the middle of dealing with a crisis?”

  “Hunter was right when he said I had nothing useful to say so there’s no point in me staying.”

  I stare at him, wondering where the hell he’s gone. Something has snapped in his mind over the last few weeks and he’s changed to the point where I almost don’t recognise my friend. I actually don’t even want to look at him right now, so I agree, “Yeah, you should go.”

  He doesn’t wait for anyone else to chime in; a minute later he’s gone and I’m beginning to question where the hell our band is going to end up in all of this.

  “Fuck!” I look at Hunter. “What the hell are we going to do?”

  Before he can answer, Tom stands and says, “I’m going to draft a statement and start looking into this girl. I’ve also got some other work to do on the tour. You two start to think about what you want to do and I’ll call you later to go over it with you.”

  He leaves and it’s just Hunter and me. I hope to hell he’s got some ideas because I’m pulling a blank here. For the first time in our career, I’m not sure what our next step should be.

  Hunter looks at me thoughtfully. “We need to get out there and promote like hell. I hate to say it, but I think we need to be in the States at the moment to deal with this. We need to be seen and we need to make it clear this shit isn’t fazing us because we know it’s not true.”

  I process what he’s said and know in my gut he’s right.

  Nodding, I say, “Looks like we’re taking a trip.”

  10

  Presley

  I wrap my arms around Jett, wanting to cling to him but knowing I need to let him go. “I’m gonna miss you,” I murmur into his chest.

  He places a kiss on my head and strokes my hair. “Not as fucking much as I’m gonna miss you.”

  We hold on tight for a few minutes, and when we finally let each other go, I say, “I know this is the right thing for you guys to do, but it sucks that some woman can dictate your life to you.”

  It’s been two days since the rape allegations hit the news and the controversy it’s caused is only getting worse. It seems women over the world have had enough of famous men supposedly getting away with whatever they want when it comes to sex. It sickens me that they are so quick to decide a man’s guilt without getting all the facts.

  The resigned look he gives me makes me even madder at the situation. Jett’s the kind of man who knows his next step at all times, the kind of man who decides what he wants and goes after it; I hate watching him struggle with this. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?” he asks.

  He’s been asking me this for two days now, and I’m not going to change my mind. “I’m sure. You’re going to be so busy with work and the last thing you need is me getting in the way. I just want you to focus completely on what you’ve gotta do without any distractions.”

  His beautiful blue eyes don’t let me go. “You’re amazing, you know that, right?”

  Frowning, I ask, “Why?”

  “Because I only just promised you last week I’d put you first and make time for our relationship, and here I am taking off overseas for God knows how long and you’re supporting me.”

  “Of course I’m supporting you. This is an awful situation, and not one you could ever predict would happen when you made me those promises. I don’t ever expect you to turn your back on your band or your band mates.”

  He gives
me a smile and kisses me. “Thank you.”

  I return his smile and smack his ass lightly. The driver waiting outside for him has sounded the horn for the second time. “You should go now, otherwise I may never let you go.”

  His smile turns into a grin and he drops his lips to mine again for one last kiss. It’s deep and it’s possessive; just the way I love his kisses to be. “You’re gonna lock yourself away, right?”

  He’s confused me now. “What do you mean?”

  Pulling me tight against him, he growls, “I mean I’m not gonna come home to find the men lining up outside your door, am I?”

  “You seriously want me to stay home the whole time you’re away?” I can’t work out if he’s serious or not here.

  He groans and rests his forehead against mine for a moment. “No, I don’t expect that, sweetheart, but honestly, all you have to do is run down to the supermarket in old tatty clothes looking like you just got out of bed, and the men are falling all over you. I hate having to deal with that here so I’m sure as hell not looking forward to having to think about it from a country away.”

  I take hold of his face with both hands. “Jett Vaughn, you have nothing to worry about. My heart is yours and that’s all that counts. I don’t even notice those men supposedly looking at me.”

  “Oh, I can assure you there’s no supposedly looking at you going on, they are fucking looking at you.” He pauses for a moment and gives me the softest look I’ve ever seen from him. It causes butterflies in my tummy. “I’m falling in love with you, baby,” he says softly, and my heart beats faster in my chest.

  “I’m falling in love with you, too,” I tell him honestly. It wasn’t something I was looking for or something I wanted, but it’s the truth.

  Jett Vaughn owns me, body and soul.

  * * *

  Jett leaves and I spend the rest of the day catching up on the things I’ve let slide since I met him. My accountant has been bugging me for weeks to give him the rest of my paperwork so he can file my return so I get that done amongst other things. When six o’clock comes around, I decide I’m done for the day and wander aimlessly around my apartment trying to decide what to do next. I’m at a loss. I’m so used to always working that to have all the time in the world to myself leaves me unsure of how to spend it

  Finally, I give in and call Erin. “What are you doing tonight?” I ask when she answers her phone.

  “I’m taking you out to a club, obviously.”

  “Thank God.”

  She laughs. “Be ready by nine. I’ll swing by in a cab and pick you up. And get ready to get your drink on, girl, it’s been too long between drinks for us.”

  * * *

  Three hours later, she picks me up and we head to our favourite club. She leads us to the bar, orders us a cocktail each and then asks, “How the fuck are you?”

  “I’m an idiot.”

  Raising her brows, she says, “Not what I was expecting to hear, but go on, because I want to know what you’re basing that on.”

  I settle myself on the barstool. “I didn’t want a boyfriend so soon after ending my marriage, and yet here I am with one, and he’s gone away, and I’m left not knowing how the hell to pass my time without him. I’ve turned into one of those women whose life revolves around their men. So yeah, I’m a fucking idiot.” The bartender brings our drinks and I drink way more than one sip.

  “You are so far from an idiot it isn’t even funny, babe. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to spend your time with Jett and there’s nothing wrong with having a boyfriend after walking away from Lennon. Jett’s brought something into your life that you never had with Lennon so I vote you embrace the shit outta that and see where it takes you.”

  “I say it again, how the hell did you get so smart about relationships?”

  Laughing, she says, “It’s easy to watch everyone else around you do relationships, a lot harder to be in them and work at them. I’m not a fool, though. I doubt I’d have anywhere near this sort of insight into my own relationship if I were in one. Now, as for you not knowing what to do with yourself while Jett’s away, I think it’s a perfect time to explore your career options.”

  I sigh. “I know you’re right, but every time I start to think about that, I get blocked. It’s like my mind is sabotaging me.”

  She drinks some more of her cocktail. “It probably is. This is a huge change for you so no wonder you’re struggling with it. I think you should actually stop thinking about it and just do.”

  I pull a face at her. “What does that mean? Do what?” I take another long sip of my drink; I definitely need alcohol for this conversation.

  “Get out there and take photos. It’s what you love to do so go do it. You never know, inspiration might hit while you’re doing it.”

  I drink more and contemplate her suggestion. “Shit, maybe you’re right,” I mutter.

  “I’m always right.” She grins at me, full of herself, and I have to laugh.

  Rolling my eyes, I say, “Oh God, help me, I’m surrounded by cocky people who - ”

  She cuts me off. “Who only want the best for you. Honestly, you’re one lucky bitch to have us.” She raises her glass and adds, “Cheers to that!”

  Shaking my head and laughing at her, I agree, “I hate to say it, but you’re right, and I will stop moaning about it.” I stop laughing for a moment. “But babe, you’re probably gonna have to put up with me whinging about missing Jett while he’s away. And the sex . . . oh God, the sex! I’m gonna miss that.”

  She bangs her head on the bar and then looks at me with feigned dislike. “I don’t want to hear a word out of you about missing that sex. You should try living my life and getting irregular and not that good sex. Then you’d have something to whinge about.”

  I laugh again; I can’t help it, she looks so wronged. “This is why I keep telling you to find a man to settle down with, even if just for awhile.”

  She raises a finger in the air to halt me. “I’ve looked and there’s no one out there that interests me.”

  An idea comes to me and I get momentarily excited. “I could help you look! While Jett’s away. There’s gotta be someone out there for you.”

  A pained expression covers her face and she downs the rest of her drink. “God give me strength. No fucking way am I letting you shop around for a man for me.”

  I ignore her and begin scouting the club for a man.

  This could be fun.

  * * *

  A little over four hours later, we’re both drunk and are sitting at a table with two guys of which I am trying my best to get Erin interested in one of them. He would be perfect for her. Tall, dark and wearing a suit, I’ve gotten out of him that he’s a lawyer and comes from a family of lawyers and has a judge for a father. He’s never been married, has no kids and is thirty-two. That’s a perfect match for Erin’s tastes, but she’s resisting him. Probably because I’m pushing so hard for it.

  “I propose these two go out on a date at least, and see if they have anything in common,” his friend says.

  I turn to him. “Yesh! Great idea.” I’m slurring my words all over the place. Directing my attention to Erin, I say, “I am sooo drunk . . . you jush need to say yes and then we can all go home and shleep.”

  Erin throws her hands in the air. “Okay, yes, I will go on a date with you,” she says to the lawyer, “but you better be good in the sack ‘cause I’m sick of bad sex.”

  I high five his friend. We’ve been working on them for hours. “Thank fuck,” I mutter and he laughs. I’m just about to say something else when my phone rings. Checking caller ID, my heart jumps when I see it’s Jett. “Hello, baby,” I answer the phone trying hard to get my slurring words under control and act sober for him.

  He’s not fooled, though. “Are you drunk, sweetheart?”

  I giggle like a bloody schoolgirl. I try not to but I can’t stop myself. Damn alcohol. “Jush a little, but it’s all good, ‘cause we finally got Erin to say yes, so
it was all worth it.”

  “Where are you?”

  He sounds concerned so I do my best to put his mind at ease. “I’m at the club but I’m okay. We’re with two lawyers so they are safe.”

  “What do you mean you’re with two lawyers? Fuck, Presley, you’re worrying me.” I can hear the worry in his voice but I can also hear his exhaustion and I feel bad that I’m causing more worry for him.

  “I’m shorry, Jett, but you don’t have to worry about me. Erin and I are jush having a girl’s night out and I found a man for her. We’re going home soon. How was your flight?”

  “Long.” His tone seems a little off to me but I figure it’s because my brain isn’t at full speed after drinking all that alcohol.

  “You should go to bed and shleep,” I suggest.

  “Baby, it’s the morning here, and we’ve got a day of interviews scheduled.” His voice still sounds off to me but I ignore it. “How are you getting home? Please don’t tell me the two lawyers are taking you home.”

  My brain kicks into gear and I finally figure out what the off sounding tone of his voice is. “Jett, I’m not going home with them if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “Fuck, Presley, I’m not worried about that. I’m just concerned for your safety. You’re off your fucking face, out with strangers, and I think I have every right to be worried about you. And on top of all that, I’m so fucking far away and feel helpless, so please do me a favour and go outside and find a taxi while I’m on the phone to you. I need to be focused today for these interviews and I know I won’t be if I don’t know you are home safe.”

  Oh.

  Shit.

  I click my fingers in the air to get Erin’s attention. “We have to go. Now.” I stand and wait for her to follow. She must sense the urgency in my voice because she stands straight away and says goodbye to the lawyers, of which I have forgotten their names so I just wave and say, “Bye,” before stumbling towards the front door of the club.