Dare to Dream (Truth or Dare #2) Read online

  She asks for a cup of coffee when she wakes up, insisting that she’ll be fine to drive once she’s more alert. Given what happened to her first husband, I have no doubt she’s telling the truth. I brew a cup of the strongest offering in the carousel of single serve K-cups and sit with her while she sips the steaming brew.

  It takes her a while to open up to me, but eventually, she shares a bit of what Lea divulged to her earlier in the day. I’m grateful for the information and love her for the fact that she seemed conflicted. She’s not a busybody, sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong— she is simply a concerned friend who doesn’t want to see a relationship fall apart when it doesn’t need to.

  Eventually, she leaves me sitting alone in the living area, debating whether I want to work for a while or wake up Lea so we can talk now. In the end, I pull out my lyric journal and start polishing up the lines to some of my older songs. Tomorrow morning, I’m hoping to be able to meet with Pete to tell him that I’m interested in the deal he put on the table. The attorney Aaron had me meet with explained the parts of the contract that were like reading a foreign language and assured me that I’m not getting screwed in the deal. It’s not going to make me wealthy overnight, but it’s fair. He also assured me that once my contract with Pete is signed, Pete will go to bat for me to make sure that any deal I sign is legitimate.

  I would have called him this afternoon, but I needed to talk to Lea. Now that Rebecca has indicated that her problem has nothing to do with my career, I feel confident in moving forward. It’s a longshot, but I’m hoping Pete that will be able to at least get me a little face time with Cameron so we can discuss the recording aspect. I want to show both of them that I’m not expecting them to do all of the legwork for me when it comes to the songs I record. I know my original songs will need a professional’s ear to make them into something usable, but I’d like to think it’s something I can excel at with a bit of mentoring.

  **

  Hours later, Lea stumbles out of the bedroom, massaging her temples. It’s cute to see her suffering this morning for last night’s fun. The clock on the wall says it’s almost five in the morning. I look at the stack of freshly edited songs next to me on the desk and allow myself a sense of accomplishment to keep me from feeling guilty for staying up all night.

  “Hey, baby, rough morning?” I ask, unable to keep from chuckling when Lea glares at me. Her hair is all over the place and she has mascara smudges under her eyes, but she’s still the most beautiful woman in my mind.

  She mutters something that sounds a bit like ‘fuck off’ as she fumbles with the coffee maker. I pretend to ignore her, figuring that the only thing worse than Lea before coffee is a hung over Lea before she has coffee coursing through her veins. After organizing my papers yet again, I move to the couch, hoping she’ll curl up next to me.

  The sun will soon be peeking over the horizon and it’d be nice to enjoy something so simple that we take for granted any other day of the week. If I were smart, I would insist that we go back to bed, but the anticipation of what’s to come later today has my entire body humming. I’m sure I would wind up tossing and turning until eight o’clock, when I have every intention of calling Pete to give him the good news.

  Shit. That means I have just over three hours to talk to Lea. I guess sleep isn’t going to happen, even if I want to do the intelligent thing for once in my life.

  “Babe, once you’re awake, can we talk?” I ask, figuring there’s no better way to ease myself into this conversation. I know what Rebecca said before leaving last night, but I want to hear it straight from Lea. At the very least, I need confirmation that she’s on board with all of this because as Aaron reminded me yesterday afternoon, once I hand over this contract, my life is no longer my own. He didn’t mean it in a bad way, but he’s right that I will have people to answer to and there won’t be a way to throw my hands in the air and say I don’t want to do this anymore.

  “Yeah, but only if you order some food while I jump in the shower. I really shouldn’t have skipped dinner last night.” She pushes me away when I reach for her hand. After the way she’s been acting, I would be concerned, but being someone’s roommate for years before being with them gives a person insight into the other’s character. In this case, Lea feels like crap and isn’t going to let me give her a good morning kiss until she feels a bit more human.

  On the other hand, she should know me well enough by this point to know that I don’t give a shit. I want to kiss my girlfriend and I intend to do just that. Pushing myself off the couch, I follow her into the bathroom. She shrieks when I pull her naked body to mine, clasping my hands around my own arms to keep her from wiggling away from me.

  “Colby, knock it off! I look and feel like ass,” she grumbles, eventually giving in to the amusement of her predicament. She hits and kicks playfully, hoping I’ll give up, but I’m not the one suffering from the effects of too many martinis. I could do this all morning if necessary.

  “And just like your ass, the rest of you is beautiful,” I whisper in her ear as I begin trailing kisses along her neck and shoulder. “I’ll make you a deal, give me a good morning kiss and I’ll let you go. Otherwise, I can sit here and torture both of us for a while.”

  She moans when my lips land on a particularly sensitive spot. Every cell in my body says there’s only one right thing to do in this situation: throw her over my shoulder and toss her down on the bed. My grip around her stomach loosens enough that I’m able to reach up to her peaked nipples, gently tugging, eliciting more noises that seem to go straight to my groin. Lea leans forward, turning off the water and leads me into the dark bedroom. I bite my lip when I manage to step on one of the heeled shoes that somehow wound up on the hotel room floor.

  “You mentioned something about torture?” Lea asks, her voice still slightly raspy from sleep. I strip out of my jeans as she slides back on the bed, coming to rest with her back against the pillows, legs spread in invitation. This is the Lea I was worried had somehow skipped town during my meeting.

  I position myself between her legs, kissing my way from her belly button up to the hollow of her neck, allowing my chest to keep in constant contact with her already sensitive mound. By the time my lips reach hers, I can’t remember who I’m supposed to be torturing. The ache in my balls says I’m a masochist, intent on causing myself as much pain as possible before reaching for pleasure. I kiss my way back up her body, adjusting myself so our bodies are perfectly aligned. Her hips buck off the bed as the head of my cock glides through her wet folds, tapping against her swollen clit.

  When I finally bury myself inside her body with one quick thrust, the sound of Lea begging me for more is music to my ears. Not wanting to disappoint, I prop myself over her body, pounding deep, feeling her muscles clench as each long stroke hits her in the perfect spot. My mouth crashes to hers in a devastating kiss that conveys the desperation she drives me to whenever she turns into this wanton vixen who will never tire of what we have. Our tongues seem to fight for purchase, a hungry back and forth battle as our bodies fall into a synchronized rhythm. Her body tenses beneath and around mine as she screams her love for me when I drive her to orgasm and I pull back, not yet ready for this moment to end.

  She whimpers at the loss of my body filling hers and I feather kisses along her jawline. “We’re just getting started,” I promise her. Once I’m no longer on the brink of my own release, I push into her slowly, short strokes that cause her to groan in frustration. Slowly, we climb to the edge together, whispering promises of what the future holds, of how we want to hold onto this feeling for as long as possible. My need for her consumes me and I quicken my pace, reaching between our bodies to ensure that she comes apart again when I do. With her arms wrapped tightly around my neck, we free fall to our climax. This is how sex is for us, a perfect cadence leading to immeasurable ecstasy.

  I roll off her body, holding her to my chest as we struggle to catch our breath. “I love you, Colby,” she sighs, pla
cing a single kiss over my heart. “I’m sorry I was a bitch yesterday and the day before.”

  “You weren’t,” I assure her. Bitchy Lea I can handle. It’s when she pulls away from me that I have an issue with. It happens so infrequently that I feel helpless, and that’s something I hate feeling. “But I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t keep shutting me out. If we want to have any chance at forever, we can’t keep things from each other. Even when it’s hard to talk.” I force her eyes to meet mine so she’ll see that I’m not angry with her, kissing the tip of her nose.

  “I know that now. And we will talk about it, but I really meant it when I said I needed something to eat and a shower.” She groans as she gets out of bed and I wonder if it’s from the hangover or the way I just abused her body. I shrug and slide out the other side of the bed. Hopefully this fancy hotel can whip up a hangover special, two eggs over easy, bacon, and hash browns with a bagel slathered in cream cheese. She’ll bitch about me pushing so much food on her, but later in the day, she’ll thank me.

  **

  It’s hard to stay awake while I wait for Lea to get done in the shower. Breakfast has been ordered and there’s another cup of coffee brewed, sitting on the dresser for her. I could keep writing, but I don’t want to be in the middle of something when she’s ready to talk.

  By the time she walks out of the bedroom, the mug of coffee cupped between her hands, I’m damn-near asleep in my chair. It’s tempting to ask her if we can head back to bed and talk later, but that would be the easy way out. If we sleep now, I’ll likely be out like a light until it’s time for me to meet with Pete, and then we’ll be right back where we are now.

  “Hey, is there room on that couch for me?” she asks, pushing my legs to the floor so she can sit next to me. I take the coffee from her long enough that she’s able to nestle into my side. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I couldn’t talk to you,” she says softly, her fingers tracing patterns along my chest.

  “I know you didn’t, but that really doesn’t make me feel better.” I stare out the window of our room, thinking about all the times she and I sat to watch the sunrise on the hood of my Cutlass. Life was so much simpler then, before we admitted what we felt for one another. There were no secrets, no paranoia about upsetting the other. She was one of the few people I could say anything to without fear of judgment and I know I was the same for her. Somehow, we need to recapture that part of our friendship because that’s what made us strong enough to weather any storm.

  “I’m sorry,” she says, eliciting a low growl from me. They’re the only two words I don’t need or want to hear from her at this point. She presses her hand hard in the center of my chest, pushing herself up so she’s looking into my eyes. “Don’t get all pissy. I am sorry. I was so worried about giving you more to worry about when you need to be focusing on what’s happening with Pete that I shut down completely. It’s not fair of me to expect you to help me sort out my own--”

  “Stop,” I demand, shifting my body to get more comfortable. “We’re a team, Lea. How many times have we said that we’ll never be able to survive long-distance if we can’t talk to one another? The shitty thing is that we’re here together and you can’t even talk to me. How am I supposed to trust that you won’t keep shit from me once you go home?”

  I’m beginning the regret my decision to have this talk on no sleep. I’m pissy and short-tempered, two things that don’t bode well for a calm, mature discussion.

  “Do you seriously feel like you can’t trust me?” she asks warily. I tense my arm around her when she tries to sit up. This is hard enough, I don’t want there to be any space between us.

  “I didn’t say that. All I meant is that if you’re already keeping shit from me, what’s going to happen once you get on that plane? How will I know you’re not withholding shit from me then, because I’m down here and can’t do anything about it?” I lift Lea’s body so she’s sitting on my lap, holding her close to me in hopes that she’ll understand how terrified I am by the thought that she might be slipping away from me.

  “I’ve already apologized, Colby,” she says defensively, trying to get away from me. “Think about what all of this is like for me. I love that everything is going great for you. And I know that I’m the one who told you to call Pete while I’m here so I could be part of it, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

  She takes a deep breath, reaching up to twirl a lock of hair around her finger, the way she always does when she’s upset. “It was like something flipped inside of me while you were gone. I became obsessed with the little things that have never mattered to me before and it freaked me out. I realized that I’m going to school because my parents wanted me to, not because I want to be there. And now, I’m turning into this high-maintenance girl because that’s what will be expected of me once you get more popular. Everything I do in my life is for someone else, not for me.”

  “If you truly think I expect you to be someone you’re not as part of some public image, you don’t know me at all,” I retort, wishing for the first time since she woke up that there was space between us. “I fell in love with you for the woman that you are. I’m the luckiest son-of-a-bitch in the world because I get to wake up to someone who is so naturally beautiful that she can throw her hair in a ponytail, pull on whatever clothes she pulls out of the hamper and be out the door in under five minutes. Even when you mocked me for being too country, you were the one who was more comfortable in jeans and cowboy boots than a cute dress and fuck-me heels. This is why we need to talk. Because I don’t recall once telling you that you’re going to have to change who you are.”

  A knock on the door saves us from escalating this conversation to a level that won’t do either of us any good. Lea quickly pushes away from me, pausing to rub her temples before answering the door.

  The message that I’ve pissed her off is crystal clear when she sits at the small dining table against the wall instead of returning to sit next to me. She pulls the lid off one plate, immediately tossing down the silver cover before racing into the bathroom to retch. Any other morning, I would laugh at how bad off she is after a night of drinking, but this morning, it makes me feel like even more of an asshole.

  I follow her into the bathroom, silently kneeling behind her to hold her hair while she’s sick. The gesture makes me think of all the times I’ve done this, every single time before I was man enough to admit how much she meant to me. Stroking her back, I whisper in her ear, telling her that we’ve made it this far and I have no intention of giving up now.

  Once she’s confident that there won’t be any more residual effects from last night’s fun, I help her off the marble floor, keeping my arms wrapped protectively around her waist while she brushes her teeth and cleans up. I lead her to the couch, tossing a blanket over her legs before grabbing a glass of water and her breakfast.

  “We need to finish this conversation,” I say, keeping my voice low in case she’s still suffering from a headache. “But I want to do it without fighting. We only have a few days left together and that’s not how I want to spend even a minute of my time with you.”

  “I love you, Colby. I’m sorry for--”

  Before I’m forced to listen to the same words I’ve already told her I don’t want to hear anymore, I close my mouth over hers, hoping to show her just how much I believe we’ll get through this.

  Chapter 10

  Lea

  By the time the city comes to life, I’m starting to think I might survive the day. It was touch and go for a while, thanks to far too many martinis and not nearly enough food yesterday. Even better, Colby and I have had a chance to talk. He promised me that he’ll support me in whatever decision I make about my future as long as I promised him that I wouldn’t try to deal with my problems alone. Funny how the tides have turned because I remember a time, not that long ago, when I was the one saying similar words to him.

  Colby’s at another meeting with Pete, so I decide to venture out into the c
ity by myself. Realizing that one day of shopping with Rebecca hasn’t turned me into a girly girl who can appreciate hours spent perusing the sale racks, I wind up at Black Skye for lunch.

  “There’s the woman responsible for contributing to the delinquency of my wife,” Aaron laughs as my eyes try to adjust to the dim lighting inside the building. Seeing him standing behind the bar, I wonder if he’s covering for Colby because I’m in town.

  “I’m not sure what she told you, but the martini bar was all her idea,” I grumble, a bit more dramatically than necessary. I’m feeling good, but he doesn’t need to know that. And she was the one who insisted that every girls’ day needed to end with a few cocktails. I simply went along with the idea, figuring that alcohol might slow down my thinking. That plan might have worked a little too well. “Can I get a glass of water and a cheeseburger?”

  Once my order is placed, Aaron perches himself on one of the chest coolers and we spend a bit of time getting to know one another. Unlike Rebecca, who I quickly began to see as a potential friend in Nashville, I feel like I’m under the microscope talking to Aaron. Short of ‘what are your intentions with Colby?’ I’m pretty sure he asked every question a parent would ask someone his child was romantically involved with. The bell rings from the kitchen and seconds later, Aaron sets a mammoth burger and fries in front of me.