Dare to Dream (Truth or Dare #2) (11 page)

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 th
at 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 class
es 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.

I tell him about my dinners with Dad, how he was the one who gave me a ride to the airport and is going to pick me up when I come home. If I focus on what’s going well with them, I figure he might not ask me to share the details of what my mother said about Colby and our relationship. I gave him a general idea, and he knows my parents have long seen him as a squatter who isn’t good enough to share oxygen with me, but he doesn’t need to know
any more than that. When I passed along my father’s well wishes for his upcoming tour, Colby responded by lifting my hand to his mouth, tenderly kissing each finger.

“I know you’re upset about your mom, but she’ll come around,” he says confidently. “A wise man told me that I have to prove to your parents that I’m worthy of your heart and I intend to do that as often as possible. Hell, we both figured your dad would be the hold-out, and it sounds like he’s keeping an open mind. Maybe he’ll manage to get through to her.”

Yeah, maybe.

The party at Cameron’s is much different from the gathering at Pete’s house the last time I was down here. The atmosphere when we enter his gorgeous brick home is mellow and there are far fewer people.