Be The One (Crave #2) Read online

  I pull out of her and press a kiss to her lips. “I love fucking you, too.”

  She unwraps her legs and arms from me and pushes me gently. “I have to go to the bathroom, and then I can’t wait to taste this stroganoff you’ve raved about.”

  While she’s in the bathroom, I pull my jeans and shirt back on, and head into the kitchen to wash my hands so I can cook dinner. I’m lost in my thoughts when she comes back out.

  “So why are you so tense tonight?” she asks as she sits on the stool.

  I frown. “Why do you say that?”

  “Your shoulders are rock hard, Jett.”

  I didn’t realise I was wound so tight. “It’s the band. We’re going through a rough patch at the moment.”

  “Yeah, I can sense that. You wanna talk about it?”

  “How did I get so damn lucky?”

  It’s her turn to frown. “What do you mean?”

  “I love that you don’t push me to talk about shit. You seem to get that sometimes I just need to process stuff before I talk about it with you.”

  Smiling, she nods. “I understand because I’m the same way.”

  I begin chopping the mushrooms for the stroganoff. “The band has decided to record our next album now rather than taking a break first. I’m against that decision because I feel like we’re in a good place now with our career, and also financially, to take a break. We’ve got a strong fan base that will wait for an album but our label is pushing for it because all they see are dollar signs.”

  “You can’t convince the guys to hold off?”

  “No, they seem set on it now so I’ve just gotta go with it.” I stop chopping for a moment and find her gaze. “You have no idea how happy I am to have found you. To have found someone who isn’t part of this industry and who isn’t dazed by the superficial bullshit. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job and wouldn’t change it for the world, but to know I’ve got you to come home to makes all the shit bearable.”

  She holds my gaze and doesn’t say anything for a moment. Her voice is strangely quiet when she finally acknowledges what I’ve said. “I’m here for you and I could care less about that fake shit.”

  Something seems off but I can’t pick what it is. “You okay?” I ask her because it feels like she just pulled away from me then.

  The smile that forms on her lips should put me at ease but it doesn’t. Instead, it seems forced. But when she reaches out and takes hold of my hand and squeezes it, that gesture feels genuine. “I’m okay. I’m just thinking over what you said and I hate that you feel boxed in like this.”

  My worry eases at her words. They were definitely honest.

  Thank fuck, because although she’s only been in my life for a short time, I’m hooked.

  I’m fucking addicted to her.

  3

  Presley

  “Did you tell him?” Erin asks as she settles in for coffee at my kitchen table.

  I sigh and slump a little in my seat. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “He came over and cooked me dinner last night and was upset about stuff his band is doing at the moment. And then he said he was happy to have found someone who doesn’t work in his industry.” I stare at her. “So I could hardly tell him then, could I?” The knots in my stomach intensify as I discuss this with her. I know it’s stupid but I can’t help it.

  Erin assesses me. “You’re stressed about this, aren’t you?”

  “Yes!”

  “I don’t understand why. It’s just a job opportunity and even if you take it, it doesn’t mean you have to take any more jobs like it. And honestly, I don’t think Jett would care if you did take it. I’m sure he meant he’s glad you’re not a singer or in a band.”

  I fiddle with a piece of paper that’s on the table. “I’m not even sure I want this job, and, besides, I’m supposed to be on a break.”

  “God, Presley, what’s wrong with you? It’s like you’ve thrown your balls away and grown a huge fucking vagina. Since when did you let a man dictate your work to you? You certainly didn’t let Lennon have a say in that so why are you even taking Jett into consideration? Especially when you’ve just met him.” She seems so exasperated with me that I’m almost sure she wouldn’t say no to physically slapping some sense into me.

  She’s right, and yet, I’m still stuck where I am. “I really like him,” I blurt out like a freaking teenager.

  Erin stares at me and then breaks out laughing. “I know you do, but that doesn’t mean you have to give up you in the process.”

  I drop my head into my hands on the table. My body is tense from the stress I’ve caused myself, and I know that’s stupid but I can’t help it. I finally look back up at her. “I know, and I’m fighting not to, but damn it’s hard. Jett’s got magic fucking charms and I’m falling hard.”

  “Are you interested in the job?”

  Conflicting thoughts run through my head at her question. The job offer is from another band, Diesel, who want me to photograph their current tour. They saw the few photos Crave shared of mine from their concert and loved my style. It would mean a few months on the road with them.

  A few months away from Jett.

  Just when we’re getting to know each other.

  But it could be the start of a new career track for me.

  My phone rings and I almost jump out of my chair. “Hello,” I snap into the phone as I answer it.

  “Presley.” It’s my manager, Michael. “You’re still alive.” I don’t miss the sarcasm there.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact I am,” I throw back.

  “Funny that, because I thought you were going to get back to me with an answer for Diesel by now.”

  I can’t help it, I laugh. He tries this intimidation tactic with all his clients but he knows I don’t pay any attention to it. Even so, he continues to try, and I continue to ignore it.

  “That would be because I don’t have an answer for you yet.” The band is on a tight time schedule and need to know asap, but I refuse to be pushed to make a quick decision I might regret.

  His long sigh confirms his frustration. “Do you think you might have an answer by the end of the day?”

  “I’m not sure,” I answer honestly. I want to tell Jett before I tell Michael and I’m not sure if I’ll be seeing him again today. He left before breakfast this morning to head to the recording studio, and I got the impression he was in for a long day.

  “Okay, well you figure it out and let me know. Soon.” He ends the call and I stare at Erin, the knots in my stomach forming again.

  “Fuck,” I mutter.

  I have a bad feeling about this.

  * * *

  Erin leaves after we discuss my dilemma some more. I’m no closer to a decision and I decide I need to see Jett – maybe seeing him will help me decide. Grabbing my phone, I find his number and dial it.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” he answers on almost the first ring. His voice alone causes butterflies in my tummy.

  “Hey you. I’m just calling to see if you guys are hungry. Do you want me to bring you all some lunch?”

  “Let me check with the guys,” he says, and I hear muffled voices while he checks. A minute later, he comes back on. “Sounds good, baby.”

  “Any preferences?”

  “None of us are fussy so just grab whatever.”

  “Okay, no worries.”

  He’s quiet for a beat and then quietly says, “Thank you.”

  I can hear the genuine thanks in his voice and it spreads warmth through me. “See you soon.”

  A minute later I leave my house and about forty minutes later I enter the recording studio after stopping on the way to grab lunch. I had to text Jett for the address and then I had to call him for directions because it’s tucked away in a nondescript building in The Valley that I struggled to find.

  The minute he sees me, he stands from where he was sitting with Van at a table and comes my way. Taking the bags of sandwiches and drinks out of my hands,
he brushes a kiss across my lips and asks, “Anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

  “Has anyone ever told you how dangerous you are?”

  He laughs and bends his head so he can whisper in my ear. “Is it working?”

  Nodding, I assure him, “You have no idea just how much it’s working.”

  “Good.” His voice has changed from soft to firm, almost possessive, and it hits me in all the right places. Jett has a way of making me feel all woman, and as if I am the only woman in the world.

  West’s voice interrupts our moment. “Okay you two, enough. I’m hungry and need food.”

  Jett distributes the food and I notice the tension that’s obvious between him and Van who is still scowling at him like he was the last time I saw him. I can’t help but wonder how the heck they are going to make it through an album together at this rate, because it doesn’t seem like either man is willing to back down.

  I take a seat next to Jett and look around the room. “So, have you knocked out a few songs this morning?” I joke, trying to break through the tense atmosphere.

  West chuckles. “Yeah, babe, we’ve nearly finished the whole album.”

  I love his teasing tone and play along. “Awesome, so I can have Jett all to myself in a few days?”

  “Well, if he’s not down with that, I’ll happily step up and take his place,” West flirts with me.

  “Settle down,” Jett grumbles, throwing West a dirty glare.

  Wanting to change the course of the conversation to avoid Jett’s jealous streak coming out, I say, “Seriously though, have you had a productive morning?”

  Hunter joins the conversation. “It’s usually a slow start when we first start working on a new album and this time isn’t any different.”

  That seems like code for ‘it’s been shit this morning and we haven’t been productive at all’ but I don’t pursue it any further. Instead, I change course again. “I’ve almost finished editing the photos from your concert. They look great.”

  My statement catches Van’s attention and he gives me a dazzling smile that almost knocks me off my seat. It’s a rarity and I can’t help but wish he smiled like that more; he really is a gorgeous man and when he smiles, it takes my breath away. “I’m looking forward to seeing them,” he says, his eyes firmly on me, and full of warmth. In that moment, I imagine that any woman who is able to capture his attention must love it when he looks at her that way.

  I give him a smile. “I’ll have them for you soon.”

  “Thanks,” he says before sinking back into his moodiness.

  Jett’s watching him with a thoughtful look and then he turns to me. “You free tonight?”

  “Yeah, I thought I’d cook for you tonight after you made me that amazing stroganoff last night. If you’re free, that is.”

  He grins. “It was pretty good, wasn’t it?”

  I roll my eyes. “Oh God, I shouldn’t have said that, should I?”

  “No, you shouldn’t have,” West interjects. “The dude has a big enough head. He doesn’t need you making it bigger. Hell, we don’t need you doing that.”

  Patting Jett on the chest, I agree. “Mr. Rockstar here definitely doesn’t need me telling him how good he is, but damn, have you tasted his stroganoff?”

  Jett chuckles as West shakes his head and says, “No, but I have tasted some of his other stuff and I’ll give him his dues; he can fucking cook.”

  Turning my attention back to Jett, I ask, “So, dinner tonight?”

  He kisses me and nods his head. “Yeah, sweetheart, dinner at your place tonight.”

  “Any idea what time you might be finished here?”

  “We’ve got the studio booked till six, so sometime around then.”

  West interrupts again. “How the hell did you end up with a woman like Presley? She’s gorgeous, she brings you food, and she cooks for you.” He looks at me. “Babe, when you decide you’ve had enough of Jett, you know where to find me.”

  Jett scowls at him and pulls me close, holding me tight. “Fuck off, West.”

  West simply laughs and flips him the bird.

  Standing, I kiss him goodbye. “I’m gonna get going so you guys can get back to work, but I’ll see you tonight.”

  He keeps hold of me and kisses me like he doesn’t want to let me go. Reluctantly, he does. “Be ready,” he says with a cheeky grin, and my tummy flutters at what I know he means.

  Jett is one horny man and has trouble keeping his hands off me when we’re alone.

  Just the way I like it.

  4

  Jett

  Glaring at West, I mutter, “Do you always have to flirt with Presley?”

  “Really, man?” He stares at me like I’m an idiot, and it just pisses me off more.

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “It means, where the fuck is this coming from? You’ve never given a shit before if we’ve flirted with your women, so why all of a sudden is it a problem?”

  The irritation spreading throughout me is making me fucking jumpy, like I just want to punch something to get some of this fucked up energy out of me. He’s right, but he’s so wrong, too. “I never gave a shit before because those women weren’t my women – they were just women. Presley’s mine. So back the fuck off, okay?”

  He puts his hands up defensively. “Sorry, man. You’ve gotta know I don’t mean anything by it though, right? You and me are like brothers; I’d never take something of yours.”

  I listen to his words, and I know he means them, but I’m still agitated. Blowing out a long breath, I rub the back of my neck and say, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me lately. I’m all over the place with this shit.”

  Hunter and West laugh at the same time, and West enlightens me with his thoughts on the matter. “Dude, you’ve turned into a possessive motherfucker. Hell, I can’t even recall a time when you’ve chased a woman for anything, let alone gone back for seconds and thirds.”

  My phone rings and I answer it while mentally agreeing with what West just said. He’s right on the money – I have turned into a possessive motherfucker.

  “Jett, you got a minute?” It’s Doug, my financial advisor.

  “Sure,” I say while putting my hand over the phone and mouthing to the guys that it’s Doug and I’ll be a minute.

  West grins and yells out, “Tell him I’m ready to get hooked up with some shares like yours.”

  Doug has the magic touch when it comes to shares, and West has just dumped his guy due to lack of performance. I nod and leave the room to find a quiet spot.

  “Got some bad news for you, man,” Doug starts the conversation with an opener no one ever wants to hear. Particularly not when it concerns money.

  “How much is this gonna hurt?”

  “There’s no easy way to say it . . . your portfolio has taken a hit today at a loss of around thirty percent.”

  My gut drops and I sink into a chair. Hunching over, I place my elbows on my legs and rest my head in my hands. He’s knocked the wind out of me and I take a moment to get my breathing back under control.

  Fuck.

  “Jett? You there?” Doug’s voice is full of concern. I can only imagine how much he hates making these kinds of calls.

  “Yeah.” My thoughts are all over the place and I can’t form any other words while I battle through trying to rebalance myself.

  “The market took a dive today so you need to have a think about what you want to do with your shares and I’m concerned this is just the beginning. Check your emails – I’ve just sent through some info for you to read through. Let me know as soon as possible which shares you want to hold onto, okay?”

  Jesus, as if I don’t have enough other shit to deal with, but that’s life for you – one day you’re sitting pretty, and the next it all goes to hell. “I’ll let you know,” I agree and hang up.

  I sit and process everything he’s said and after reading through his email, I’m even more fuc
king confused so I text him and organise to meet and discuss this tonight. That fucking share portfolio is all I have and most of my cash is tied up in it. I need to sort this out fast because there’s no way I’m losing the money I’ve worked damn hard for over the past ten years.

  * * *

  I knock on Presley’s door and wait for her to answer it. Fuck, it’s been a long day, and all I want is to hold her in my arms and forget everything that’s happened. I spent three hours with Doug tonight, going over my share portfolio, and I’m wiped.

  She takes about five minutes to answer the door and when she does, she stands in front of me in her Keith Urban t-shirt with an annoyed glare on her face. “It’s late, Jett.” Even her words are laced with annoyance.

  “Sorry, sweetheart, but I needed to see you.” I step into her house and pull her into my arms.

  When her arms don’t come around me but rather hang limply at her side, I let her go and frown. “Are you that pissed that I came over late?”

  “No, I’m pissed because you said you’d be here sometime just after six and I waited for you, but you didn’t show up, and then you sent me a text at seven thirty to say you weren’t coming.” Ice clings to her words and I can see her getting more worked up as she goes. “A fucking text! A fucking hour and a half late.”

  Fuck, I’m an asshole, and she has every right to be mad at me.

  I’m so far out of my comfort zone here; relationships and me do not go hand in hand.

  I open my mouth to respond but she’s already turned and walked away from me so I close the front door and follow her into the kitchen.

  And then I see it.

  Dinner.

  She cooked me dinner and it’s still sitting on the kitchen counter ready to be eaten.

  “You didn’t eat?” I ask and the question sounds pathetic even to my ears.

  Her eyes bulge. “No! I didn’t eat.” She reaches for an empty bottle of wine and holds it up. “I drank instead.” The sound of the bottle hitting the counter echoes around the kitchen, making me wish like hell I could go back a few hours and have a do-over.