Tempt My Heart Part 10

I shake my head no and step back away from his grasp, "I'm fine, just not feeling well. I think I drank too much. Goodnight." I say over my shoulder as I head down the hallway towards the exit.

I can't be around him right now. My head is on the verge of exploding, and I don't want to look like a total lunatic.

As soon as I step outside in the crisp night air, I am able to breathe my first deep breath. My lungs ache, and my head is filling with voices of my past, causing me to feel like I'm on the verge of another breakdown.

Kicking my heels off, I hold them in my hand and run towards my bus needing to lock myself away from everyone and everything.

Staggering onto the bus, I ignore the pain in my feet from running barefoot over the asphalt. I quickly get to work tearing my bathroom apart. My manager and sponsor would kill me if they knew I hid c.o.ke on my tour bus. No one would ever think to look inside a box of tampons. I've had the c.o.ke in there in case of a rainy day since my last tour.

They tore my entire bus and house apart while I was in rehab. Thankfully for me, they never discovered the last vile I had inside the box.

The urge to get high is overwhelming.

I've been sober for so long, but I am not strong enough. I think for a moment; maybe I should dump it out and call my sponsor, but as quickly as the thought pops in my head I shake it away.

I can't take the everyday pain. It's too hard. I miss Cane too much, and everything with Jordon is just f.u.c.king with my head even more.

I knew the night I met him I was playing a dangerous game, but I ignored the waving red flags, and I gave into him anyway.

As I grab the vial of c.o.ke from under my bathroom sink. I feel a rush of adrenaline course through my veins, and my body s.h.i.+vers with the excitement of doing a line.

Climbing back to my feet, I go to my bedroom and grab my purse, and dig out a hundred dollar bill. As I spin around to grab my magnified mirror, I see him. I see Cane again.

"You can haunt my a.s.s all you want! I don't f.u.c.king care anymore; I'm finally admitting I'm not strong enough to deal with not having you. So if I need to be high to get through the f.u.c.king day...that's what I'll do!" I yell to the image of Cane that haunts me, but in reality I'm actually yelling at nothing. Like a crazy a.s.s lunatic.

Tears are falling down my face as I pour a line on my mirror and dig out a debit card to cut it into two thin lines. Rolling up the bill, I hold it to my nose and quickly snort the first line. Tipping my head back, I savor the feeling of peace that takes over my body. My nose is tingling and numb. I can taste the c.o.ke in the back of my throat.

My entire body feels like it's coming alive and floating off of the floor.

I can hear Cane's voice in my head diminis.h.i.+ng, and relief washes over me. Leaning down, I snort the next line. Rubbing my hand across my nose, I wipe away the c.o.ke residue and pad across my room turning on my iPod. I crank it up as loud as it will go, blast Imagine Dragons, and fall back onto my bed.

The room is spinning, and I feel each note of Bleeding Out vibrating in my skull. When I'm high, music always sounds a thousand times better. I not only hear it, but I feel it too.

My body is humming with energy and I feel the need to get up and move. Climbing up onto my bed, I bounce around on it, singing my heart out along with the music blasting throughout my tour bus.

I spend the next hour singing and writing new music. I forgot how inspired I get when I am high. s.h.i.+t, every number one song I wrote on our last alb.u.m, I wrote while high on c.o.ke.

Why the h.e.l.l did I ever stop?

Ohhh right, because I was a dumba.s.s and overdosed.

Lying on my mountain of pillows; I roll over, grab my cell phone and hit play. I smile as I watch a video of Cane and me running around in the ocean in front of our condo. Roxie had recorded it. I love how she caught us in such a happy and carefree moment. I lay there for what feels like an eternity watching every video I have on my phone.

I slowly feel my high wearing off, and the all familiar feeling of depression begins to take over.

"Brittan. Why are you doing this?" I snap my eyes up to the foot of my bed where I see Cane standing staring down at me with sadness in his eyes.

I let out a small sob as I take in his tall, tanned and toned body. He's still the most handsome man I've ever seen.

Trying to fight back the tears, I answer him honestly, "Because I don't have you. I can't deal with life Cane; it's just too hard. Getting high is my only escape."

A tear falls from his eye and slowly zig-zags down his face.

It's like a sucker punch to my gut.

I scurry up onto my knees and crawl to the end of the bed and cautiously reach out to touch the tear, and wipe it away.

"Don't cry, please. I've cried enough tears to last us both five lifetimes." My words are weak and defeated.

I don't care if he is a figment of my imagination; I'm just happy to see him. I get high to try to block him out of my head. But every time I crash back down from that high, I'm hit with the cold hard reality that I'd take him any way I can have him.

"I love you so much, Cane. I am so confused. I don't know what to do."

Wrapping his arms around me, he pulls me in for a hug and presses kisses to the top of my head. "This about Jordon?" He asks, causing my heart to slam fiercely against my chest and my entire body to become rigid.

"Shhh. It's okay, baby. It's totally normal to be feeling this way about him."

I cut him off as I speak through my tears, "It's not okay. My heart only belongs to you, and I want to get Jordon out of my head. I don't want anyone but you."

Rubbing my back, Cane whispers into my hair, "Brittan, I love you...but it's time to let me go. I'll always wait for you no matter how long it takes, but I need you to be happy. Doing drugs, and having s.e.x with complete strangers; that's not the woman I fell in love with. You deserve to be happy."

For the first time, I am not lying. I am honest with myself and Cane as I speak my deepest fear out loud, making it real, "I'm afraid that if I allow myself to love again, I'll forget about you."

Cane lets out the sweetest laugh as he holds me tighter, "Baby, you'll never forget about me. Your heart is so big and so full of love. You have more than enough room in it to love me and someone else. You deserve to feel what it's like to love again and to be loved."

Looking up at Cane, I try to protest but as I do he begins to disappear. I hear someone yelling my name and look around, but see no one.

"Brittan, wake up!" I hear what sounds like Jordon.

I snap my eyes open and find that I've been asleep. I blink a few times and rub my eyes that are damp with tears, and look up to see Jordon sitting on my bed beside me. He looks worried.

Rolling to my side, I lick my lips, and swallow a few times because I suddenly have the worst cotton mouth of my life. I feel something hard under my side and realize I'm lying on my old cell phone.

I must have fallen asleep while it was playing. I was exhausted from the concert. Then of course, I burned all my energy off bouncing around my d.a.m.n tour bus while floating on cloud nine.

Cane's words from my dream keep echoing in my head as I stare up at Jordon...You deserve to feel what it's like to love again and to be loved.

A look of relief settles over Jordon's face and his eyes soften. He slides his hands over my cheek giving me a weak smile, "You were crying in your sleep."

I close my eyes, wiping the tears from them before looking back up at Jordon, "I was dreaming about Cane." My words come out hoa.r.s.e as my voice cracks and tears threaten to come again.

It shocks me that I was honest with Jordon. Normally I'd brush it off as nothing.

Without saying another word, Jordon climbs onto my bed and lies beside me. I snuggle into his chest and listen to the sound of his heartbeat against my ear. I slowly inhale the scent of his cologne which surprisingly soothes me. For the first time in eight years, I lay in bed with a man and just sleep. It feels strange, but also right, all at the same time.

Here for You.

Jordon.

How can a person look like they have it all, but they have nothing more than you do. When you see the real person they hide from the outside world, you see underneath the expensive clothes, vacations, cars and pretty face; then you realize they are fighting the hardest battles.

When I first found out I was going on this tour I was excited because I've been a huge fan of Beyond Redemption for years.

I've always thought Brittan was gorgeous. I had heard rumors she was wild, and I'm a man, so yeah, I wanted to have a go with her.

She got out of rehab just before our tour started with them. I knew she struggled with some sort of inner demons that caused her addiction. From interviews she has done in the past, I am a.s.suming they're linked to the loss of her fiance, who was a soldier in the U.S. Army. I'm more of a get drunk and have fun kinda guy, never was into the whole drugs part of the s.e.x, Drugs and Rock n' Roll aspect of this business.

That night, when I first met Brittan on the dance floor, my only thought was to f.u.c.k her brains out so I could say, yeah I banged her. I had no idea after that night she'd flip my whole f.u.c.king world upside down.

Since our memorable night together, I've not been able to get her out of my head. Earlier, when I saw her looking like she'd been crying, I had an overwhelming need to comfort her. Which is f.u.c.king crazy; normally I see a chick crying and I get the h.e.l.l outta Dodge!

Before I could even attempt to do anything, she took off running outside and disappeared onto her tour bus.

I spent two hours partying on Beyond Redemption's bus before my bandmates and a few chicks we brought back with us wanted to go back to our bus. As we were all making our way through the parking lot to our bus, I had a hot chick hanging off of me, who I knew only wanted to ride on my d.i.c.k and all I could think about was Brittan.

I couldn't stop looking over at her bus, and wondering what she was doing. It was as if my body took over, and before I knew it I was telling everyone I was going to see how Brittan was. When I approached her bus, I could hear music blasting throughout. I knocked for almost five minutes, to the point my knuckles were on the verge of bleeding before I decide to let myself in.

I made my way through her bus, which, by the way, is like a f.u.c.king mansion on wheels! To top it off, she lives on the d.a.m.n thing all by herself, while all of us guys are cramped on one f.u.c.king bus.

Chicks. They're so f.u.c.king high maintenance.

I walked through the tour bus making my way to the back where her bedroom is. Opening the door, I peered in and saw she was asleep on her bed with her music so f.u.c.king loud it could have woken the dead.

As soon as I walked over to her iPod to turn it off, my stomach shot up into my throat. Sitting on her bedside table was a mirror covered in what I a.s.sumed was c.o.ke residue. Once I spotted the debit card and a Ben Franklin rolled up beside it, my a.s.sumption was confirmed.

She's been clean almost nine months. What the h.e.l.l would make her use again? She did look like s.h.i.+t earlier in the arena. Just the thought of what may have happened between her and that Kurt dude makes my f.u.c.king blood boil.

I noticed her crying in her sleep, so I gently sat down on her bed trying my best not to startle her awake. After calling her name a few times, she woke up. She confessed to me that she'd been dreaming about her dead fiance, and that's why she was crying. I decided it wasn't the time to rip her a new one for getting high and settled on just being here for her.

I've never wanted, so badly in my life, to be able to take the pain away from someone just so I could end their pain and suffering.

Now here I am lying in bed with her, watching her sleep. I can't remember the last time I just laid in bed with a woman with no f.u.c.king or foreplay involved.

This is crazy.

After lying there watching her sleep for what felt like an eternity, I finally fell asleep too. I was awoken only a few hours later to find Brittan still asleep and curled up against me.

I slowly slide out of bed and get to work cleaning up her room. The last thing I want is for her to wake up and have it be the first thing she sees.

I don't even know where she'll go from here. Will the tour continue? Will she go back to rehab? Why does the thought of her leaving the tour make me feel like s.h.i.+t?

We've spent the last two weeks practically ignoring each other and pretending our one night together never happened, but for some f.u.c.ked up reason it's only made me want her more, rather than make me disinterested.

I've learned one thing about Brittan over the last two weeks of touring with her, and that is she can't function in the morning without coffee. I am pretty sure she'll be sporting a doozy of a hangover when she finally drags her a.s.s out of bed.

Digging my cell out of my jeans, I text our band's personal a.s.sistant, Amanda, asking her to go to the closest Starbucks and get two vanilla lattes and m.u.f.fins. I'd just text Brittan's, but I don't know the dudes number.

Just as Amanda is knocking at the door to the bus, Brittan comes stumbling out of the bedroom and heads straight into the bathroom. She does not even notice me standing in the middle of her bus. I hope she doesn't go bat s.h.i.+t crazy on me for still being here.

That thought hadn't even crossed my mind that maybe the last thing she'd want is to see my face still hanging around here after the night she had.

Opening the door, I smile down at Amanda, who is now the biggest life saver. Let's hope this scores me some Brittan points.

Reaching down I grab the coffees and the paper bag full of m.u.f.fins, "Thanks, Amanda."

"No problem, Mr. Valentine."

I raise an eyebrow at her, "I told you call me Jordon. For crying out loud, I'm a Rock Star, not a f.u.c.king Wall Street tight a.s.s."

"Sorry, Jordon." She says giving me a flirty grin. G.o.d, every woman on the planet but Brittan wants my f.u.c.king d.i.c.k. "I have your two lattes, but I wasn't sure what kind of m.u.f.fins Brittan liked, so I got blueberry and chocolate chip. I figured she has to like one of the two."

Smiling down at her, I fish a hundred out of my wallet and hand it to her. "That sounds perfect. Thanks again for running out so early in the morning for me."

I'm able to set up the tiny breakfast area with the lattes and m.u.f.fins before Brittan finally emerges from the bathroom. She's showered and has her fire red hair in a messy bun on top of her head.

I think my heart just stopped and then started again as I take in the sight of Brittan wearing boy short panties and a tight tee. A ghost of a smile creeps across my lips as her eyes land on mine.

Her mouth makes an O shape and she screams, "Holy s.h.i.+t, Jordon!" while trying to tug her very tiny tee down.

I kick my foot up on my knee and stretch my arms out along the bench seat as I relax against in the booth. Her sudden shyness is adorable and is making my d.i.c.k stir to life in my jeans. I let out a low raspy laugh, "I don't know why you're all of a sudden all bashful. It's not like I haven't been up close and very personal with what's under those adorable leopard panties of yours."

Plopping down across from me, she furrows her brows as she s.n.a.t.c.hes the latte from in front of me, "Sorry, I'm a little more self-conscious when I'm not drunk."

"Well with a body like that, you should never feel self-conscious because, I swear on this blueberry m.u.f.fin," I actually got a small smile out of her with that one, "You have the hottest body to ever grace this earth...and believe me, I've seen my fair share. So you need to take my word for it."

Breaking off a piece of her chocolate m.u.f.fin she's been nibbling on she chucks a chunk of it at my head and lets out the cutest little laugh, "You're such a pig. But thanks...I guess."

"You're welcome. Now that you're caffeinated, is it safe to ask you about last night without being kicked in the baby makers and tossed out on my a.s.s?" I ask as I sip my latte, and prepare myself for a Brittan b.i.t.c.h slap.

Brittan doesn't speak for a few moments; she just stares down at her m.u.f.fin while scooping whipped cream off of her latte and licking it off her finger.

f.u.c.k. I am trying to be Mr. Concerned, but it's really hard when she is doing s.h.i.+t that's making me hard.

Now I know why guys and girls aren't normally 'just friends.'

Finally, she speaks, and I hold my breath as I wait for her response, "I figured it was you who cleaned up my bedroom. Anyone else and my a.s.s would've been on the next flight back to Malibu."

Leaning forward, I prop my elbow on the table and rest my head in my hand, "Yeah, I woke up before you did so I figured it'd be best if I cleaned it up, rather than leave a reminder of the mistake you made last night."

Dropping her head, she slides her hands slowly over her face and lets out a long sigh, "I don't know what the h.e.l.l I was thinking. I was doing so good." Her words come out defeated. It's killing me to see her beating herself up like this. "Now I have to tell my sponsor I f.u.c.ked up. Tell her how I knew I still had c.o.ke hidden on my bus after I swore it was all gone."

"What are they going to do once they find out you used drugs again?"