Be The One (Crave #2)

by Nina Levine

“Well, I have, and it sucks. It’s like there’s this nervous energy flowing through you all the time. You know something’s wrong, but as much as you try to analyse it, you come up short. Eventually it all becomes clear… maybe you just need to give him some space and some time to figure it out.”

  “I’m all for giving people time to figure their shit out, but Van is pushing against me so damn hard that I’m not sure we’re gonna last long enough for him to do that. I think he’s about to explode, and I don’t think it’ll be pretty.”

  She processes that and nods. “Yeah, you might be right. But I hope you guys can look past his behaviour and remember the friendship you all share, because I truly think he needs you guys more than he knows. When someone’s hurting so much that they lash out at those they love, it’s a sign they need you badly.”

  I stare at her in awe and then wrap my hand around her neck so I can pull her close. Brushing a kiss across her lips, I murmur, “Van’s a lucky fucker.”

  Her brows knit together in confusion. “Why?”

  “Because he’s got you on his side.”

  Smiling, she kisses me again and then pulls away. Moving off the bed, she says, “Just remember what I said, okay?”

  I nod and then ask, “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to clean up and then when I come back, you and me are going to sleep all day.”

  I rest my hands behind my head on the pillow and watch her go while thinking about what she said. And then my thoughts shift to the gig we’ve got lined up for tonight. The record label organised a slot for us at a benefit concert that’s on at the Brisbane Entertainment Centre. Van said he’d be there and I hope like hell he keeps that agreement.

  20

  Jett

  Guzzling down the water Presley just gave me, I stare at Van and wonder what’s running through his mind. We’re about to go on stage for our set, and he’s avoided me since sound check. Probably a good thing because he seems to be in the same mood he was in at the airport in LA.

  I empty the bottle of water and throw it in the bin. Turning to Hunter, I ask, “You’re good with the changes we made?” We made some slight changes to the drums for tonight that Van suggested and Hunter seemed good to go.

  He nods. “Yeah, man, I like the changes.”

  “Good.”

  My phone sounds with a text and I swipe to read it.

  Tom: Did Van turn up?

  Me: Yeah, he’s here.

  Tom: Thank fuck.

  Me: You got clearance to fly home yet?

  Tom: I leave tonight.

  Me: See you soon.

  I slip my phone back into my pocket and turn to Presley. “You gonna be okay here while we perform?” She was going to watch from her seat but I told her I needed her close.

  She smiles. “Yeah. Don’t worry about me, just focus on you.”

  Bending my face to hers, I kiss her. God, she still has no clue how much I need her. “Sweetheart, I’m always thinking of you. You have no idea.”

  Her smile grows larger and she whispers, “You always say the right things.”

  I grab her by the waist. Pulling her to me, I say, “A man can only try. I know I’ll fuck a lot of things up, but I’ll always try to get shit right.”

  “I know, and I love you for it.”

  I still. She’s never said those words to me before, and I’m not sure she realises what she just said because she’s showing no recognition of it. Maybe it was just a figure of speech, but fuck, I realise just how much I want those words from her. I’m about to tell her exactly how much when I’m given the signal it’s our turn to perform.

  Shit.

  Kissing her, I say, “Hold that thought.”

  “What thought?” She frowns at me as I start walking towards the stage.

  I grin. “The thought about you loving me,” I yell out because the noise from the crowd has grown so loud and I’m not sure if she can hear me otherwise.

  The confused look on her face tells me she didn’t hear me, but she waves me away with a smile. She says something, but I can’t hear her, either, now, so I simply nod and turn my attention to the audience as I cross the stage.

  We’re playing to a packed crowd tonight and it feels damn good. The screams and whistles fill the space; the energy here is electric. I look over at West. He’s grinning at me, loving it as much as I am. I then turn to Nate, the bass guitarist playing with us tonight, and he’s grinning at me too. I fucking love this job.

  Looking out at the audience, I speak into my microphone. “Hello Brisbane! How the fuck are you tonight?”

  They go wild, yelling and screaming again. And then Van plays the riff from one of our number one songs, ‘Grind’, and the roar from the crowd is deafening. Hunter starts the drums and then Nate kicks in with the bass. West is in there, too, and when he joins me at the front of the stage, with his trademark cocky moves, the audience lap it up.

  I put my hand to my ear and yell, “Didn’t quite hear you. How the fuck are you, Brisbane?”

  While they scream in response, Van comes to the front of the stage also, and leads us further into the song with an extended solo. Once he’s done, I start singing, and the energy I always feel when I perform takes over. It’s unlike any other feeling in this world. Sex comes close but doesn’t quite match it for me. I’m connected not only to my band mates but also to thousands of people who are in the moment with me, feeling the beat, and letting that beat and the lyrics touch their soul. We’re making sweet fucking music up here from nothing, and there’s no better feeling than that.

  The first song ends and we go straight into our second song for the night. We’ve got time for four so we’ve chosen three of our most popular songs, and then we’re going to treat the fans to one of the songs we’ve recorded for the new album.

  Our second one is a huge crowd favourite, mainly due to the drum work Hunter does on it when we perform live. He takes it away tonight with a fucking amazing solo, and Nate surprises the hell out of me when he steps in at the end of the solo and works some magic with Hunter. They extend the solo together and the fans go wild over that. We’ve worked with Nate a few times and I decide during this song that we should explore involving him more in the band. A full time bass guitarist is something we’ve never had in Crave because we’ve never found one who we all got on with enough to ask to stick around, but maybe Nate could fill that slot. He certainly works well with Hunter and that’s one of the main requirements of a good bass player.

  As we finish the second song, West grabs the microphone off me and takes over while I grab my guitar.

  “Who wants to see what we’ve been working on for the new album?” he asks the crowd, revving them up for the next one. They cheer and he continues, “Van and Jett might have something for you, but only if you give me something in return.”

  I join him and Van back at the front of the stage. Leaning into the mic, I say, “West always fucking wants something.”

  More screaming from the fans as West chuckles. “Everyone wants something, man. Can anyone guess what I want?” he asks the audience.

  Women yell out suggestions and West laughs again. “Yeah, I’d take a blow job, gorgeous, but that’s not what I was thinking.” While we wait for him to tell us what he’s after, Van starts his solo off and the crowd’s attention swings to him. The song is an angry one about being cheated on. It’s one Van wrote by himself and he gets lost in the solo completely. I’ve no doubt this song is about him being cheated on by Caitlin and when I join in the guitar solo with him, our eyes meet and I see the torment he’s experiencing.

  Fuck, maybe Presley was right when she said he was trying to tell me something through his anger. This breakup is obviously affecting him more than I realised.

  As Van and I play the beginning of the song, West yells into the mic, “Brisbane, have you figured out what the fuck I want yet?” He jerks his thumb at us and adds, “These two won’t play anymore of the song until I get what I want.”

>   He’s playing with them, a huge, cocky grin on his face, loving every minute. West is the ultimate performer; his soul would shrivel if he couldn’t perform any longer.

  The crowd are going wild, screaming out their suggestions, until, finally, he enlightens them. Squatting on his haunches at the edge of the stage, he shares, “You all know why we’re here tonight, right?” When they nod, he continues, “We’re here to raise money for cancer research so I want all of you to help me with that. We’ve got a donation page set up on our website and here’s the thing… there’s just over fourteen thousand of you here tonight so if everyone donates a buck, that’s some serious coin, yeah?” He holds the mic out encouraging them to yell out their agreement, which they do. Bringing the mic back, he says, “Okay, who’s gonna get their phone out first and make a donation? Show me your phones, people!” He stands back up and begins working the stage, jogging from one end to the other, holding his hand out to touch the fans that hold their hands up.

  Van and I continue playing, and Nate joins us up front and begins playing, too. West has the crowd pumped and I see people everywhere on their phone. I’m hopeful they’re donating, although I realise many are probably just on social media. However, West pulls his phone out and checks our site and gives us the thumbs up with a huge grin. We’ve got a live tracker on the donation page so he can see the money coming in.

  He turns to the crowd and gives them a fist pump. “Fuck yeah, Brisbane, you fucking rock!”

  Hunter kicks in on the drums and Van lets loose on another solo. And then we play our new song for the audience, and they love it. After that, we play our last song and say goodnight to the crowd who we’ve worked into a frenzy. West kept track of the donations and we raised just over ten grand, so we leave the stage, psyched about that.

  The sweat is dripping from me as I pass my guitar to one of the roadies when I head backstage. Presley’s waiting for me with a huge smile on her face. “You kicked ass,” she declares, and I see the desire in her eyes.

  Resisting the urge to pull her close, I lean in and murmur in her ear, “Did that turn you on, baby?”

  Her face is flushed and her breathing has picked up pace. She runs her hand through her hair and nods. “Hell yes,” she says in the breathy tone she uses when I’m about to fuck her, and hell if that doesn’t cause my dick to harden. “We should do this every night.”

  I fucking love the way she says ‘we’, and I can’t stop myself any longer; I push her up against the closest wall and grind my cock against her while slipping a hand up her shirt to find her breast. People rush past us, the beat of the music from the band currently playing surrounds us, and the roar of the audience flows through all of that, but we’re locked in our own bubble. My mind is completely focused on Presley and the pleasure she’s giving me as her hand rubs against my dick, and I kiss her deeply.

  When I end the kiss, I rub my thumb over her swollen lips. Catching her gaze, I say, “We could do this every night if you come on tour with the band.”

  She holds my gaze while silently processing what I’ve said. I silently hope she says yes.

  And then my phone rings, changing everything

  “Hi Mum,” I say as I answer it, still keeping my gaze locked to Presley’s, loving the way she’s started biting her lip.

  “Jett.” Mum’s voice is off, and I’m instantly alert. “Tell me you’re in Brisbane,” she continues, her voice cracking on her last word.

  Fuck.

  I grip the phone harder as my heart starts beating faster in my chest.

  My mother never gets worked up about stuff. She doesn’t panic or worry until it’s absolutely necessary.

  She’s panicking right now.

  I can hear it in her voice.

  “I’m in Brisbane.”

  Presley stills and her expression turns serious as she watches me take this call. She places her hand on my arm and I vaguely realise her touch doesn’t calm me like it usually does.

  The noise surrounding me is suddenly claustrophobic and I push away from Presley and take a step back.

  I need to get out of here.

  “It’s your sister.” My mother says the words I never wanted to ever hear again and my legs almost give way.

  The crowd is too much.

  The noise is oppressive.

  The heat is overwhelming.

  I need to fucking get out of here.

  “What?” I demand as I pull at the top of my t-shirt, urgently needing it off my skin.

  I start walking towards the exit, desperately in need of fresh air and less noise.

  She begins to cry and I know exactly what she’s called to tell me.

  Fury blows through me like a fucking tornado and I want to explode from the anger.

  “Mum, say it.” I try to force the words from her lips, not wanting to hear them, but needing to hear them in case I’m imagining the wrong words.

  “She’s in the hospital,” she starts, and a sob tears through the phone. And then she says the one word I fucking hate the most in this world. The one word I want to obliterate from the English fucking language. “Her cancer is back.”

  “Fuck!” I roar and turn and punch the wall.

  No!

  Mum’s voice is distant through the phone because I’ve blocked everything out. I drop my phone and punch the wall with my other hand.

  This can’t be happening to Claudia again.

  “Jett!” Presley’s voice filters through but I pay no attention. Her hand lands on my back and she calls my name again, “Jett.”

  I turn to face her and find her concerned face staring at me. Waiting for me to tell her what’s going on.

  Waiting for me to say that one fucking word I despise.

  My voice is strangled when I finally speak. “Claudia has cancer again.”

  I stand and stare back at her, the hopelessness bleeding from me.

  Her hand flies to her mouth and she sucks in a breath. “Oh my God,” she exclaims.

  I want to scream, “Where the fuck is your God?” but I don’t. The injustice of this smacks me in the face again and roots me to the spot, unable to form the words, so I simply stare back at her, my arms hanging limply by my side and my body ready to crumble.

  Please don’t let it be true.

  But I know it is.

  “Jett!” West’s voice flows through the air and I wonder where he is. He sounds so close.

  “Jett,” Presley says and gently shakes me.

  And then I hear West again. His voice mingles with Presley’s, and I struggle to discern who is saying what. Their voices echo around me, bouncing off the walls, and I give up trying to understand what they’re saying. They’re obviously not talking to me because their words don’t make any sense.

  Nothing fucking makes sense anymore.

  “Jett!” Van’s hands grip my biceps and his booming voice snaps me to attention.

  I blink and turn my attention to him. “What?”

  “What the fuck has happened?” He shakes me, and his alarmed voice pierces my senses as I process his words.

  I try to speak but my voice catches in my throat.

  He shakes me again, more insistent this time. His wild eyes stare at me while he demands, “Tell me!”

  Time and space stand still and the ringing in my ears stops. I open my mouth and finally tell him, “Claudia is in hospital. With cancer.”

  Van’s body sags and his face twists with anguish. “Fuck.”

  I nod. “Yeah, fuck.”

  Because really, there’s nothing else to say.

  21

  Presley

  Jett leads me through the corridors of the hospital as he stalks to his sister’s room. He took hold of my hand as we exited the car outside the hospital and hasn’t let go since. The grip he’s holding me with screams his need for me at the moment. I wasn’t sure if he’d want me with him here, not having really met his family yet, but he insisted I come with him.

  “Fuck, can they put the
fucking cancer ward any further from the entrance?” he grumbles, and I can’t blame him. My legs are weary from the rapid pace we’re walking and the distance we’ve covered.

  We round a corner and I see the sign that tells us we’ve reached our destination. Jett’s pace falters for a split second, but then he pushes the door open and continues his search for Claudia. His gaze is glued to the room numbers above each door and he doesn’t slow again until he finds the number he’s after.

  Room 9.

  He stops outside the closed door and stares at it. His grip tightens around my hand, and my chest squeezes, knowing how much he’s struggling with this. Finally, he opens the door and steps inside, dragging me with him.

  Claudia is in the bed and turns to look at us. Her hair sticks to her face where she is clammy, her face is pale and she is coughing, but she gives us a small smile. She raises her arm and motions for Jett to come to her at which point he lets my hand go. A moment later, he’s sitting on the side of the bed with his arms wrapped around her and her head buried in his chest. I watch as her back starts to shake and when her sobs and coughs fill the room, my eyes well up.

  Blinking, I take my attention off them from fear I will start sobbing as well. Looking around the room, I take in the vase of flowers on the shelf near the bed. Tulips. I wonder if they’re Claudia’s favourite. My gaze drifts to the armchair in the corner near the bed, under the shelf the flowers are sitting on. It’s stacked high with novels. I guess she loves to read.

  “Presley.” Claudia’s voice drifts across the room and I turn to her.

  Smiling, I take a step towards her outstretched arm. “Hi,” I almost whisper.

  Jett shifts his gaze from her to me, and I gulp back the ache I feel when I see the pain in his eyes.

  Claudia reaches for my hand and I give it to her. She clutches it and says, “Thank you for coming.” Her voice is raspy and full of gratitude, and it almost kills me that she is thanking me for coming when she is clearly so sick.

  Jett’s arm slides around my waist and he moves his leg so he can pull me close to him. The love in this room surrounds me; these two clearly adore each other and keenly feel each other’s pain.