Dare to Dream (Truth or Dare #2)

by Sloan Johnson

  “I love you too, Lea,” I respond wistfully, my drunken state amplifying how much I miss her. “I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

  Cameron and Aaron sense the shift in my mood, likely because I’m no longer able to see anything except the glass in front of me. Lea referring to me by my nickname from years ago reminds me of a time in my life that already seems to be slipping away, melting into the present just like the ice in the bottom of my glass will eventually disappear, becoming nothing more than water.

  **

  My head feels like it’s going to explode when the phone on my nightstand starts ringing. It feels like it was just a few minutes ago when I finally quit sulking around the room, pining for a life I never wanted in the first place, but the sun streaming through the blinds tells me it’s much later in the morning.

  I put the phone to my ear, unable to form words. My throat feels like it’s coated in sandpaper. “Colby, are you there?” Lea’s voice sends a jolt through my entire body; pleasure to the south and intensifying the pain between my ears.

  “Yeah, I’m here,” I groan, rolling to my side for a drink of water. Thank God I had the foresight to put a bottle there before I passed out last night. As the lukewarm liquid threatens to purge whatever’s left in my stomach, I make a mental note to kick Cameron’s ass when I see him today.

  “Do you need me to let you go?” she asks, laughing at my misery.

  I’m debating telling her that would be a great idea when I remember the text message she sent me yesterday afternoon and the complete silence that followed. “No, but if you could keep your voice down, that’d be swell. How did talking to your parents go?”

  She lets out a long sigh and I brace myself for the letdown of her telling me she’s not going to be able to get away. I know I told her there would be other trips, but again, I’m a selfish prick and I really want her to be here for this trip.

  “Well, do you want the good news or the bad news first?” she asks nervously. I know her enough to know she’s probably sitting there picking at her fingernails, trying to figure out where to start.

  “Most days, I’d say lay the bad on me first, but I’m not sure I can take that this morning.” I cautiously get out of the bed, making sure my legs are ready to support me before taking a step. The room seems bigger this morning as I cross to the windows, pulling the drapes closed to plunge the room into comfortable darkness.

  “Have too much fun last night?” She laughs again, her mood entirely too light to offer me any comfort right now. Before killing off as many brain cells as possible last night, I kept staring at the phone, waiting for the hysterical phone call that never came.

  “Yeah, way too much fun,” I grumble, curling into a ball on the bed, praying for my stomach to stop churning. “Anyway, what’s the good news?”

  “I’ll wait for the long version until you’re feeling a bit more human, but the good news is that I’ll be down there next Monday. I emailed my professors and explained that I have a family emergency that I need to take care of. Two have already responded telling me what I will miss while I’m gone.” Mentally, I’m dancing a fucking jig at the news, but I lack the physical strength to do anything more than smile. My girl’s coming home. Fuck, she said there was bad news, too.

  “Okay, well now I wish you’d dumped the shit on me first. I’m not sure I want you to kill the little bit of a high I’m on now,” I say, not sounding nearly as enthusiastic as I feel. I’m really wishing I wasn’t coming off a bender right about now. She deserves for me to be able to form coherent thoughts. I suck in a dramatic breath, gripping the sheets with my free hand. “I’m ready. What’s the bad news?”

  “It’s nothing new, really,” Lea responds. She sounds sad now, like whatever she’s about to tell me is causing her pain. “My Mom hates you, says you’re going to ruin my life and cheat on me…” her voice drifts off, making me wish I was next to her so I could wrap her in my arms, coaxing the rest of the conversation out of her. “She’ll get over it in time, but we’re not speaking right now.”

  I sit up in the bed, ignoring the daggers piercing my vision. Rubbing away the discomfort, I shift back against the headboard. Two things stick out in my mind; first, I can’t remember a time when things with her parents got so bad that she wasn’t speaking to them, and second, she only mentioned her mother. Does that mean her father is still in the dark?

  “Baby, are you there?” she asks when I don’t say anything in response to her statement.

  “Yeah, I’m here. Are you okay?” I choose to not ask the question lingering in my mind because it doesn’t matter if Mr. Baker knows or not. The moment I promised to put everything into being successful, I gave up on hoping to win the approval of those who don’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

  “Yeah, I’m actually really good.” Lea laughs and I think she may have officially lost her mind. There’s no way she can’t be upset about the fact that she’s now receiving the silent treatment from her mother. “But we’ll talk about the rest later. I have to get to class.”

  “Sounds good. We’re not doing anything until three today, so give me a call when you’re done. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Colby,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s going to take a little time, but everything is going to be awesome.”

  I only manage a grunt in response, sleep already pulling me back under. Hours later, I wake up, wondering if the entire conversation was a dream. It’s not until I find my phone and see her call in the log that I know it wasn’t. I only have to get through another week and she’ll be here.

  Chapter 14

  Lea

  I haven’t heard much from Colby in the past five days. For most people, the time from signing a deal to going out on the road can be months, sometimes even years, and yet his first live show is less than two months after being introduced to the men who have changed his life. To add an extra bit of stress to his plate, he and his band have to figure out how to work as a cohesive unit in less than two weeks. I’m not sure how they’re going to do it, but I have faith they’ll find a way.

  It’s still amazing to me how much both of our lives have turned around since the last time I headed to the airport to fly and see him. Last time, I was sitting in the back seat of a taxi that smelled like urine and stale cigarette smoke with a cabbie who I’m guessing hadn’t showered or shaved since Clinton was in office. Now, my father is glancing over at me and I’m trying to ignore the fact that I’m even more nervous now than I was for that first visit. He’s doing everything he can, trying to be supportive of my decisions, whether or not he agrees with them and I love him even more for it.

  My mother and I still haven’t spoken since I walked out the door. I do feel guilty about the way I snapped on her, but I believe in my heart that she was in the wrong this time and I refuse to be the one to apologize first. Once she calms down enough to see that her reaction was inappropriate, she can call me. Now, if only there was a way to make my heart hurt less about the fact that I’m doing what I know is best for myself for once in my life.

  “Hey, it’ll be okay,” my dad says, reaching over to smooth my hair the same way he did when I was younger. I’m relieved he’s not upset with me because I would miss this. We’ve talked several times this past week, probably more than we have in the past few years, and both Dad and I have admitted that we could have done better listening to one another. I was leery at first, not ready to believe that it was possible for him to go from criticizing the decisions I made for my life and pushing me to do what would have the best ‘long term potential’ to whole-heartedly supporting my desire to be there for Colby, but then I saw something in his eyes. The eyes that are identical to my own brilliant green held a trace of sadness. Someday, I hope to be able to find out the root cause, but from the small hints I’ve been given, I can’t help but wonder if he’s simply been repeating the past; making demands on my life the way someone must have done to him when he was younger.

>   “I know, I just hate that she’s still so mad at me. If she was upset about the way I talked to her, I could understand, but she was upset with me before I snapped. And I’m sorry, but she said some things that can’t be easily forgotten.” I stare out the window of my dad’s car, wishing that, for once, life could be simple. Wishing that my mom could look at life the way my dad does when he’s not around her. And hating her a little bit for whatever has caused him to lock up of this side of himself until it was almost too late.

  The sign for the airport comes into view, signaling the end of our conversation. That’s probably for the best because I don’t want to listen to him justifying why she is the way she is and I really don’t want to hear him apologize, yet again. I should be getting on that plane tonight feeling relieved that I have one parent supporting me, but instead, I feel more confused than ever before.

  Dad pulls my suitcase out of the trunk, wrapping me tightly in his arms. “I love you Lea. Call me when you get down there so I know you’re safe.” I nod, the assurance that I will stay in touch with him muffled into his jacket. “And remember what I told you, yeah?”

  I nod again, pulling away to look into his eyes. “I will. I love you, Daddy. Thank you.” Reaching for the handle of my suitcase, I turn quickly, before he can see the tears threatening to fall.

  **

  Five hours later, I’m on the ground in Nashville. As I briskly wind my way through the corridors to baggage claim, it dawns on me that I don’t feel like I’m here on vacation this time. I’m overwhelmed with a sense of home that is only bolstered by the image of Colby, dressed in fitted jeans, a black leather jacket and a trucker cap, waiting for me with a blinding smile just outside the TSA secured area.

  “Damn, you’re a sight for sore eyes.” Colby plants his hands on my backside, lifting me up for a kiss far too provocative for such a public setting. By the time his lips break free from mine, both of us are short of breath and I glance around to see if we’ve attracted an audience. Everyone else in the airport is pushing their way past us, moving on as if our presence wasn’t even a blip on their radars and I relax a little. I bury my face, which is flush with embarrassment into Colby’s side as he holds me with one arm, the other carrying my bright pink carry-on tote.

  It seems to take forever for the luggage carousel to start moving. While we wait, Colby presses his chest to my back, thumbs hooked in the front pockets of my jeans. “I got us a room for tonight,” he whispers before nipping at my neck. “Didn’t think Rebecca would want us waking up the kids with your screaming half the night.”

  I’m mortified that he would say something like that with so many other people around. I turn around, playfully beating on his chest as he laughs. “Colby Alan Davis!” I shriek, my entire body heating up, a combination of humiliation and anticipation of what’s to come. “I don’t think everyone here needs to know what you plan on doing to me tonight.”

  But damn, part of me can’t wait to get into the car so he can tell me all the sordid details of what he’s hoping to do once we get back to the hotel. I shift uncomfortably as desire builds between my thighs, my eyes fixed on the carousel belt, willing it to deliver my bag faster.

  Colby’s hand traces a line along the waist of my jeans, his fingers still cool from the night air. “Oh, admit it, you like it when I get you hot and bothered when you can’t do a damn thing about it,” he says, purposely lowering his voice an octave so each word vibrates through every cell of my body, stoking my need for him.

  “I do not,” I protest, the smile on my face confessing my deception. I’m so wrapped up in the way Colby is teasing me that I jump when the alarm signals the arrival of our bags. The moment I see my purple and black suitcase on the belt, I rush to grab it, unwilling to wait the thirty seconds it would take to travel down the belt. “Now, you said something about a hotel room waiting for me?”

  With an extra bit of sway in my hips, I walk away from Colby, allowing him to appreciate the view. At the sound of him muttering something under his breath, I glance over my shoulder to see that he undoubtedly approves of the way the faded denim hugs every curve of my hips.

  “You coming?” I ask, flipping my hair over my shoulder before walking further away from him. We both know it’s a game since I have no clue where the car is parked and he has the keys, but it feels good to be the aggressor for once. It makes me feel a bit better about him going out on the road later this week knowing that I can put that look on his face that no one else can.

  Colby wastes no time getting reacquainted once we’re in the Pathfinder. He leans over the seat, tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of my neck, possessively pulling me to meet him in the middle for a plundering kiss. It’s hard, fast and filled with promise of the passion yet to come. He moans as his tongue explores every inch of my mouth like he can’t get enough of me.

  When he pulls away, he sits for a moment with his eyes closed, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, as if he’s trying to regain control of his shattered nerves. “If I can get us to the hotel without getting a fucking ticket, it’ll be a miracle,” he mutters under his breath. When his eyes meet mine as he turns his head to check behind us for oncoming cars, he flashes me a wicked smile.

  The fact that we weren’t pulled over isn’t the only miracle I’m counting by the time we pull up in front of a much more modest hotel than where we stayed during my last visit. At the top of the list is the fact that we didn’t wind up in a gruesome accident on the freeway thanks to my boyfriend’s driving. More than once, I had to remind him that our night would be much less enjoyable if we were in the emergency room or dead. Reluctantly, he eased off the gas pedal each time, until his libido once again took over all thought and we were dangerously weaving in and out of traffic.

  The hotel where we’re staying this time is much more modest, but still a step above what I’m accustomed to. I make a mental note to talk to Colby about making sure he’s not jumping outside of his means when it comes to spending now that he’s had a taste of the entertainment industry. But for now, I don’t care how much he spent because we’re one short elevator ride away from what I’m hoping will be a sleepless night.

  “You need to get changed. We have to go out for a bit,” Colby tells me as he holds open the door to our hotel room. I spin around, staring at Colby in disbelief. We have a beautiful hotel room with a king-size bed just screaming for us to lose ourselves in, and my boyfriend who already has me on the verge of combusting is telling me we’re not staying here.

  “You can’t be serious,” I respond, dropping my suitcase on the floor of the closet. “It’s been a long day and you’re the only person I’m interested in spending any time with tonight. Can’t we stay in tonight and go out tomorrow?” Yes, I’m whining, but I don’t care at this point. If there’s a female equivalent of blue balls, I’m pretty sure I’m starting to suffer from it.

  “Nope. Cameron has a get together going on at his place tonight for all of us. It’s kind of a last hurrah before we hit the road. It’s going to be our band, Missy and her guys, plus all the crew and spouses.” He digs through the small duffel bag he brought for the night, pulling out a clean black Henley and jeans.

  “Colby, do we have to? It’s been a killer day and I really just want to kick back and relax tonight,” I complain, feeling like a bitch because I know this is his life now. “Besides, I don’t have anything to wear.”

  He gives me a once over, taking in my denim leggings and oversized sweater. “You look fine. This isn’t anything fancy, think of it more as a way for the band and crew to get to know one another. Besides, it’ll be good for you to meet the other wives, that way you can swap phone numbers and complain about how we’re not around to take out the garbage.”

  The other wives. Something about those three little words lifts my spirits. We’re too young to even consider getting married, but the fact that he views me that way helps silence the doubts I have about our future.

  “Fine, but I don’t
want to stay out super late. I was up half the night last night cramming for an exam I’m sure I failed, had classes all day and went straight from my last class to the airport.” He seems surprised by my certainty that I didn’t do well on my test today. It’s probably a shock for him because I used to sail through my classes, easily earning high marks with minimal studying. But that was before. Now, my days and nights are spent bemoaning the fact that I’m not where I want to be, geographically or otherwise.

  “An hour, two tops. I promise,” he says as he strips out of his t-shirt, giving me a moment to admire his physique. It seems that he’s kept up with working out and now that I’m used to the trimmer look, I want to explore every sinewy inch of his body. Much too quickly, his skin is covered again.

  I look longingly over my shoulder as we walk out of the room, the fluffy down comforter beckoning me. Closing my eyes for a moment, I remind myself that this is Colby’s life now. This is our life now because no matter how chaotic it gets, I will do whatever I can to be the woman he needs in his life.

  **

  “When are you heading back?” Colby asks as he merges onto the Interstate heading south. He laces his fingers with mine, resting both of our hands on his thigh as he drives.

  “Sunday night,” I respond, saddened by the thought of leaving, even if he’s going to be gone before I am. Even though I’ve never lived here a day in my life, Nashville is starting to feel like home to me. “Rebecca wanted me to go shopping with her on Black Friday and I decided to stay through the weekend since there’s no one waiting at home for me.”

  “How are things going with your parents?” he asks, the feeling of his thumb rubbing against my skin is the only sensation keeping me from succumbing to the sadness that threatens to pull me under whenever I think about how strained things are with my mother.