Dare to Dream (Truth or Dare #2)

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Dare to Dream (Truth or Dare #2) Page 4

by Sloan Johnson


  Our bodies work in concert with one another, a gentle rise and fall of two lovers committing themselves to one another. “I love you, Lea. Any time things get hard, I want you to remember this moment, right here.”

  “I love you, too. God, I love you so much it hurts sometimes,” Lea admits, brushing her fingers along the stubble on my jaw. “I’m sorry I ruined our night last night.”

  “Shh, none of that now.” I wrap my leg around hers, giving me the leverage needed to roll on top of her without having to leave the heaven that is her body. I pull back so only the tip of my cock remains inside of her before thrusting in hard enough to claim her without hurting her. Her answering groan tells me how much she’s enjoying the change of pace. My fingers find her swollen clit, making teasing circles as I continue pushing deep into her core until she falls apart beneath me. The way her body spasms around me is too much and I’m unable to stop the rapid thrusts before releasing myself inside of her.

  As our breathing slows to normal, I roll off her body, pulling her so her back is nestled against my chest. “You’re my forever,” I whisper as she drifts off to sleep once again. No matter how many things change in our lives, it seems there’s no way she’ll ever be a morning person. I’m okay with that as long as she never tires of me trying to wake her up by putting a smile on her face.

  **

  Lea stays in bed another two hours, giving me time to make a few phone calls and to work on some new lyrics in the living area. I called Aaron to thank him again for the room and ask him about the “chance” meeting with Pete and Cameron last night. He tried to play dumb for a while before admitting to me that he’s friends with the both of them. The entire time, he kept insisting that the only thing he did for me was ask them to still come to the show even though Missy wasn’t playing. Beyond that, he said it was all on me. I want to believe him, but I’m not the guy who has ever had shit like this just drop into his lap.

  By the time Lea stumbles out of the bedroom in a fluffy white bathrobe provided by the hotel, the floor around me is littered with crumpled attempts to put words to paper. Everything flowing through my body is hearts and rainbows and other pussy shit that no one will want to hear, no matter how good the tune might be.

  “What’s all this?” she asks, reaching down to gather my mess. She’s known me long enough that she doesn’t read anything as she flattens each sheet of paper. “You’re trying too hard. Let’s get breakfast and then you can show me around the city, okay?”

  Fuck, maybe she’s right. Knowing that I have a meeting coming up with Pete has me on edge. I need to prove to him that I’m more than a pretty face with a guitar. It may not happen right away, but I’d like to think that someday I’ll be able to record my own songs. I need to be able to put every asset I have on the table when I meet with him so he’s more desperate to sign me than I am to have him represent me.

  “Yeah, sounds good. I need to go by the house and get some stuff. Why don’t you jump in the shower and I’ll call for room service?” I draw her close to me, resting my head against the tie at her waist. My hands slide up her legs, gently pushing away the fabric until she’s standing before me, naked. Just the way I like her. When she goes to cover her body, I reach for her hands, pinning them to her sides. “You don’t have to hide from me. I want you like this as much as I can get without being a bad host while you’re here.” I slide my hand beneath the hem of her robe, pinching her ass, loving the way she jumps just before slapping my shoulder. It’s exactly the type of playfulness that makes us work well together. It’s also something I feared was slipping away from us last night.

  It’s not a lie. If I had my way, we’d be holed up in this posh suite for the week, relying on room service to keep us fed. But I want Lea to see where I’m living, where I go when I get day gigs. I want her to see it all. There is a tiny part of me that holds onto the idea that if she falls in love with the city as much as I have, maybe she’ll think about finding a way to transfer to be closer to me, whether or not her parents like it. It’s a long shot, but I don’t know that I’ll ever stop trying to get her to relocate. I fucking hate the fact that she’s so far away from me. While I still can’t bring myself to flat-out ask her to move, I’m not above playing dirty at this point because I’m already dreading having to drive her to the airport at the end of our week together.

  “As nice as that sounds, I don’t think housekeeping would appreciate the show,” she laughs as she disappears into the bathroom.

  Chapter 6

  Lea

  It doesn’t take long at all for me to feel guilty for monopolizing Colby’s time. I know Pete and Cameron said that he didn’t need to rush to call them, but there’s part of me that worries that him taking their word for it will hurt his chances of being signed. After all, who in their right mind would put off making such an important phone call for their girlfriend? I’ve heard stories of celebrities who never shut down, even if it means taking care of business in the middle of family emergencies. I wouldn’t be happy living that life, but I jumped into this relationship knowing it was a real possibility.

  And I don’t want to say it to him, but walking around Nashville, seeing the sights that draw most people to the city does nothing for me. I’ve never understood the allure of going to a new city, only to see the same things everyone else does. I’d rather walk around aimlessly looking for hidden gems and create unique memories.

  “Baby, I think you should call Pete when we get back to the hotel,” I tell Colby as we walk down Broadway. There’s not much going on down here since it’s the middle of the day during the week and my attention is waning. I’d prefer to be lounging around the hotel with Colby, enjoying some quiet time with him. Plus, going to an exclusive party with singers and record industry reps is definitely the type of thing most people don’t get to experience when they’re down here. It has nothing to do with seeing which celebrities come out, that’s another thing that really doesn’t do much for me. It’s all about finding a way to be here for as many of the critical moments in Colby’s life as I can.

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to take away from the time I have with you,” he says, tucking a stray curl away from my face.

  “As thrilling as it is to walk down the street and look at the nearly empty bars, yeah, I think I could give that up if it meant being here for something that’s important to you.” I wrap my arms around his waist, leaning into his body as we walk down the street. “I’m going to miss out on so much as it is, so I think it’d be nice to go to the party. And maybe you can meet up with them and I can be there when you get back, biting off my fingernails while waiting to hear what they have to say.”

  “See, this is why you’re the smart one. I figured you wouldn’t want to sit around while I go to meetings. I should have thought about the fact that you’re the type of person who would feel like she’s missing out.” I see a hint of regret in his eyes. We’ve known one another long enough that I can almost hear him admonishing himself for not thinking about what the things he takes for granted mean to me.

  Then again, it’s not like he’s used to having people in his life who want to be there to celebrate his successes with him and comfort him if things don’t go well. Before we got together, he even kept me at arm’s length for fear that I would think he was making a big deal over nothing. I’m not sure I will ever understand how his parents could be so cold and callous. Sure, his dreams didn’t include college and sitting behind a desk for the rest of his life, but how could they not be interested in seeing the way his face lights up when he sits on the barstool with his guitar in his lap? The way the crowd feeds off his energy. If my own parents wouldn’t disown me, or at the very least cut off my college fund, I would move down here in a heartbeat so I would never have to miss out on another gig.

  “I get it, Colby. And I think it’s sweet that you’re trying to make sure I’m not bored,” I assure him. He relaxes a bit as I continue to speak. “Plus, if we’re going to that party Friday nig
ht, I’m going to have to go shopping. Maybe if they can meet with you this afternoon or tomorrow, I can call Rebecca and we can have a bit of girl’s time.”

  “You’d want to do that?” he asks, shocked that I’m going out of my way to go shopping. It’s another one of those girly things I’ve never learned to appreciate. “I mean, you’d spend time with Rebecca? You don’t even know her.”

  Ahh, and there it is. He still sees me as the reserved teenager I used to be. The one who had to be dragged into the fold to meet new people. But I’m not that girl anymore. And if he and I are truly in this together, I can never be her again because my life will be spent meeting people and having to appear confident, no matter how I’m feeling on the inside.

  “Yeah, of course,” I say, genuine excitement building. “I want to get to know all of Aaron’s family. For all intents and purposes, they’re your family while you’re down here, so it’s important that we all get along. And even though it’s a long way off, eventually I’ll be living down here and it’d be nice to have a friend when that day comes.”

  When I get nervous, I ramble. It’s a bad habit, one I’ve been unable to break. And I feel like I’m doing that right now. Even though Colby has known me for years, he’s become attached to the Donaldson family since he moved here. Part of me wonders what will happen if they don’t like me. What if Rebecca thinks I’m self-centered if I say something about how hard it is to be away from Colby? What if she tells me horror stories about this lifestyle and I begin to have my own doubts? Suddenly, spending the day with her seems a bit overwhelming.

  “Okay, let’s get lunch and then we’ll head back to the hotel. As long as you’re sure about this, I’ll do it.” Colby cocks his head to the side, waiting to see if I’m going to show any signs of doubt. But I’m not because the only uncertainty I have right now is in my own ability to handle everything that is about to happen to us. If Colby knew that, he would ditch his entire plan for me and I won’t allow that to happen.

  Colby quickens his pace as we make our way toward the Cumberland River. He’s been dying to take me to Wildhorse Saloon, one of the first restaurants he visited when he came down here. I’m not so sure about the fried pickles that he’s raving about, but I’ll give them a try. The worst that happens is that they’re as disgusting as they sound and he can eat all of them himself.

  It’s becoming impossible for me to walk into any bar in Nashville without imagining Colby sitting on the stage with his guitar. Or even better, looking ahead to the day when he’ll have a band behind him, all of them following his lead as they entertain a packed house. What seemed like a pipe dream not too long ago suddenly seems like a very real possibility. He’s already done more with his music than most people do in decades, which means that I’m not the only one who believes he has something special that the world needs to see.

  While we wait for our meals to arrive, I pick up the event calendar at the center of the table. It dawns on me that other than watching Colby on Sunday night, we haven’t gone to see any live music. “Hey, do you think we can go out tonight, maybe catch a show or something?”

  Anywhere else, Wednesday night would be a slow night for live music, but this is the city where musicians never take a break. I’m fairly certain they would start a set at five o’clock on a Monday morning if there was a demand for it. But like anywhere else, the talent level seems to kick up a notch the closer it gets to the weekend.

  “Maybe later, but Aaron wanted to know if we can come over for dinner tonight. Rebecca and the kids are giving him a hard time because I’m keeping you all to myself.” He rubs the back of his neck, focusing intently on something on the table while he waits for my answer. While it may be all sorts of messed up logic, I feel better seeing his anxiety. It’s cute and makes it feel like this is more than going to see the people he lives with. It feels strangely like I’ll be meeting his parents with how nervous he is. “I mean, if you don’t want to, I can tell him that you have other things you want to do…”

  I reach across the table, resting my hands on top of his to calm him. It works and his body begins to relax. “Colby, it’s fine. Plus, I should probably meet Rebecca before I call her up to see if she’ll play hooky from work to take me shopping tomorrow,” I laugh. It’s apparent that these people mean a great deal to Colby, which raises my own anxiety level, but I won’t let him see that. I have to be the strong one, the supportive girlfriend, ready to help him take on the world.

  “Cool,” he responds, trying to sound unaffected. He pulls his cellphone out of his pocket to send a quick text to Aaron. The server places huge plates of food in front of each of us and the conversation falls into a comfortable silence.

  “You like them, don’t you?” I ask a while later. I can’t not talk to him. If Pete is right, these could very well be some of the last days we have face-to-face for a while.

  He tilts his head to the side, a faint smile quirking up at one corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I do. It’s weird, but in a lot of ways, I feel closer to Aaron’s family than I do my own. And you’re going to love the kids. You know that I stayed up in my room at first, but Rebecca put a stop to that pretty quick.”

  “Tell me about them,” I ask, wanting to know what it is about this particular family that makes him feel like he’s part of something for once in his life. Other than our ramshackle group of friends back home, I don’t think it’s something he’s ever had in his life.

  And so he does. We pay our bill and start walking back to the hotel as Colby tells me about hanging out in the backyard playing baseball with Devon and listening to Taylor go on and on about whichever teen music sensation she’s wrapped up in that day. It seems perfect. I know he’s enjoying living with Aaron’s family now that he’s quit hiding in his bedroom, but every so often, something in his voice gives away the fact that he still feels like an outsider to them. I’m not sure there’s anything that any of us can do to make Colby understand that there are people out there who care about him unconditionally.

  Back in the hotel room, I excuse myself to take a quick shower while Colby tries to reach Pete. I didn’t think to look at the weather for Nashville, so all of my clothes are too warm for the seventy-degree weather, making me a sticky mess by the time we get back to the room.

  “Lea!” I hear Colby screaming as I’m trying to rinse the shampoo out of my hair. Just about the time I push the door open, not even bothering to turn off the water because something has to be wrong for Colby to shriek like that and he comes barging into the room. The smile on his face tells me he was able to talk to Pete and the news was good. “Baby, did you mean it when you told me you’d be fine sitting here while I go to meet with Pete?”

  He strips out of his clothes, opening the door to climb in behind me in the shower. I turn around, running my hands over his body. “Of course, why?”

  I have to remind myself that he’s trying to tell me something important because the only thing I can think of right now is licking up every rivulet of water traveling down his body. He bats my hand away when I reach between his legs to ready him for a quickie in the shower. It’s the first time he’s ever denied me and it stings more than a little bit.

  “He wants to meet me down in the hotel bar in twenty minutes!” Colby’s almost visibly bouncing as he says the words, soothing a bit of the ache I feel in my core, knowing that my needs are going to be put on the back burner for a while.

  “That’s amazing! Here, let me get out of your way so you can get cleaned up and ready to go. Do you want me to grab your razor for you?” I like the stubble on his jaw, but it’s not a great look when meeting with people who have the potential to change the course of his entire life with one flick of a pen.

  “Nah, I’ll be fine,” he says. I cross my arms tightly over my chest, loving the way his eyes drop to where my breasts are pressed tightly together.

  “No, you won’t.” I wrap my arms around his neck, placing a kiss on the corded tendons in his neck. “You need to look like this
matters to you.”

  There’s no time to get into a huge debate about this, so I step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my body before laying out everything he needs to finish getting ready. It’s a good thing we ran to the house this morning so Colby could pick up some clothes while the house was empty, otherwise he’d have nothing to wear but the same clothes he wore to work yesterday. In the bedroom, I even go so far as to pull out a fresh pair of jeans and a button-down shirt while the iron heats. It’s so domestic. As I run the hot metal over his shirt, making sure the sleeves are perfectly creased, my mind drifts to the possibility that this could be our life someday.

  It’s the first time I’ve even considered that I might be getting a degree in accounting for nothing. Will I use it if Colby’s career takes off? Do I want to be committed to a career that will keep me away from him or would I be able to do something a bit more unstructured, allowing me to follow him around the country, helping him get ready for appearances and shows?

  Don’t get ahead of yourself, Lea. It’s one meeting, that’s all.

  With a quick kiss for good luck, I push Colby out the door of our suite ten minutes later. His hair is still damp, but other than that, he looks the part of a serious musician, ready to convince an agent to take a chance on him.

  While he’s gone, I busy myself by getting ready for dinner. I take the time to first blow dry my long, burgundy hair and then use the curling iron to add large, bouncy curls to the ends. My makeup looks almost flawless because I had nothing better to do than keep washing it off if I didn’t like the results. Standing in front of the mirror, I don’t feel like myself, and I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. There’s no doubt that I look good, but Colby always says that one thing he loves about me is the fact that I have what he calls ‘effortless beauty’. I’m not the girl who spends almost an hour on her hair and over thirty minutes painting her face. I’m the type of person who thinks mascara and lip-gloss are all that’s needed to leave the house most of the time.

 

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