Dare to Dream (Truth or Dare #2) Page 8
I devour my food in silence as Aaron helps a small group of tourists who walk in. My phone dings and I pull it out of my purse to see a text from Colby.
Guess who officially has an agent! X
Staring at the phone, I decide to have a little fun with him. It’s nice to have my head out of my ass so I can enjoy these moments.
I thought Luke Bryan had an agent long ago. ;)
When he responds less than a minute later, I throw my head back as I laugh at what he has to say.
:O You know who Luke Bryan is?? And no, smartass, not him.
Aaron winks at me as I think about how to reply this time.
Jason Aldean??
After five minutes, I start staring at my phone, wondering if I should have told him how proud I am instead of messing with his head. About thirty seconds after I convince myself that I suck at being a supportive girlfriend, his response comes through.
You’ve been holding out on me. I knew you’d realize that country kicks ass. Maybe I’ll let you think on it for a while instead of telling you to be ready in an hour because Pete’s sending a car for us.
There will be time for beating him later. Right now, I’m going to have to sprint back to the hotel so I can rush through getting ready for the party. I fumble through my purse trying to find my wallet when Aaron tells me not to worry about it. On any other day, I would insist on paying for my meal, especially after the copious amount of money Rebecca spent on me yesterday, but right now I’m grateful because my purse is a bottomless pit.
Just as I’m about to shove the front door open, Aaron calls out to me. I turn around and see him rounding the end of the bar to follow me. “I’ll give you a lift back to the hotel.”
I could seriously hug that man right about now. I follow him to his truck, thanking him as he backs out of his parking stall. As he weaves his way through traffic, Aaron’s eyes keep glancing down to my hands, which I’m wringing furiously in my lap. Pete might have insisted that tonight is a laid-back party meant to give his artists who are in town a chance to relax and have fun, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be under the microscope. Both of us will be because the veteran musicians will be wondering who the new kid is. On top of that, I’m not looking forward to being surrounded by a group of strangers.
“It’ll be fine,” Aaron says, placing his hand over mine.
“Am I that transparent?” I ask, the laugh that passes my lips sounds forced.
I reach for the door handle as soon as Aaron pulls into the hotel parking lane, but again, he stops me. “A word of advice. These people are no different than you and Colby. They all started somewhere and their spouses all had to adapt to a life they might not have been ready for. Think about that and don’t be afraid to make friends tonight. And if all else fails, Rebecca and I will be there later, so we’ll be able to help you out, not that I think you’re going to need it.”
“I wish I was as sure as you are,” I grumble, turning back to face him. “I’m not usually so insecure, but this is major for Colby and I’m terrified that I’m going to screw it up. I don’t know the first thing about any of these people and have nothing in common with them.”
“Breathe, Lea,” Aaron chuckles. “As I said, they’ve all been where you are. And trust me, by the end of the night, you’ll be laughing at how stressed you are right now. You’ll see. Now, get up there and get ready because right now you’re wasting valuable time.”
It’s not until the elevator chimes and the doors open that I realize I never told Aaron why I was in such a hurry to leave. Or that I didn’t tell him that Colby signed the contract today. Yet again, I was so wrapped up in my insecurity that I couldn’t think of anything but myself. I really need to get a grip because I hate feeling like this.
**
The fact that I’m standing in the lobby next to Colby, looking better than I thought possible, when our car pulls up in front of the building is nothing short of a miracle. Proving that he knows me better than I know myself, Colby had my curling iron plugged in, makeup bag lying on the vanity and all of my clothes laid out on the bed by the time I made it back to the room. I’m still self-conscious about the short hemline on the dress, but I’ve decided that Rebecca knows what she’s doing when it comes to putting together an outfit. The distressed cowboy boots we picked up carry accents of the same turquoise in my dress and the silver bracelet and drop earrings pull everything together to add a touch of sophistication.
“Have I told you how amazing you look tonight?” Colby whispers in my ear as he leads me to the car with one hand placed at the small of my back. I stop so his body presses against mine and turn my head.
“Yes, but I’ll never get sick of hearing it.” I reach behind our bodies to pull his face closer so I can reward him with a kiss. Colby’s arms fold around my waist, deepening the kiss as my fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck. It’s only when the driver clears his throat, a not so subtle reminder that we have a timeline to keep, that either of us realize we’re making out in front of a luxurious hotel on a busy sidewalk. “I’m proud of you, baby,” I tell him as he slides into the seat next to me.
After suffering through early evening traffic on I-65, I will never complain about the traffic back home again. It should be simple for everyone to pick a speed and just drive, but that doesn’t seem to be the case as we creep forward. At least I know now why we left so early. We make better time once we’re off the freeway. My attention is drawn to the neighborhoods, watching, as the homes grow bigger and more opulent the further we get from the main thoroughfare. As the anxiety builds, I remind myself that the people we’re going to be rubbing elbows with tonight are no different than we are—they’re simply at a different place in their life’s journey. They are where I know Colby will be someday.
“Are you ready?” Colby asks as the driver pulls up a long driveway at the end of the cul-de-sac, our destination nestled away behind the privacy offered by trees covered in leaves that are at the peak of autumn color. If I ignore the fact that these homes cost more than a lot of people make in a decade, it’s actually a very quaint neighborhood. The type of place where the rich and famous can raise families without the prying eyes of the public constantly on them.
“Ready as I’ll ever be. How about you?” I ask, reaching over to smooth the collar of his crisp white button-down shirt. It dawns on me that I’ve seen Colby dressed up more in the past four days than in the entire time we lived together back home. And that’s a damn shame because the sight of him in dark, fitted jeans and a dress shirt is something I could experience every single day and never tire of. The only thing he could do to look any better is get a haircut so his unruly waves don’t look quite so out of control, but like everything in our lives right now, he’s a work in progress. And honestly, part of me would miss his unkempt look.
The smooth concrete driveway turns to cobblestone as we approach the house and my eyes grow wide at the charming beauty of the home. The house can’t be more than twenty years old, but it has an air of old Southern charm with the columns and arches framing the entryway. High windows flank either side of the front of the house and I allow myself to dream, if only for a moment, of what it would be like to live in a house like this someday, watching our children run in the front yard.
An imposing man wearing black jeans and a matching t-shirt greets us at the door. Colby gives our names and we’re granted entrance into the grand foyer, complete with a double staircase winding around to the upper level of the home. I notice the fact that the stairs are wrought iron and distressed wood, giving the home a bit of character. No matter how regal it looks, this is truly a home. A place where real people live, not a status symbol meant to flaunt the wealth Pete has amassed throughout his life. That makes me feel a bit more at ease. Aaron was right, not five minutes after our arrival I’m feeling a bit foolish for seeing myself as beneath these people. They’re not any better than Colby and I—they simply have more zeroes in the balance of their bank account.
“Colby, Lea, I’m so glad you could make it!” Our heads turn to see Cameron striding through the kitchen toward us. He was a good looking man in the dark bar when I met him, but seeing him today, in the full light, he is breathtaking. He’s a beast of a man with broad shoulders and arms that seem like they’ll tear his shirt if he moves just right. Well-manicured scruff highlights his strong jaw and when he smiles, you can see a hint of dimples at the corners of his mouth. But it’s his eyes that demand attention. They’re such a light blue against his tan skin that they almost look unnatural. “Let me give you the grand tour,” he says, offering me his arm.
Not wanting to seem ungrateful, I rest my hand in the crook at his elbow, allowing him to lead the way. Colby walks on the other side of me and I feel like a beauty queen as heads turn to see who we are as we walk by. When Cameron excuses himself for a moment to say hello to someone, Colby leans into my side, brushing the hair away from my neck.
“Baby, I love you, but I have to tell you, I think you have some drool on your chin.” I reach up to brush whatever’s on my face away and slap him playfully when I realize he’s giving me a hard time. “Don’t worry, I get it. He’s a good-looking guy. I think I need you to promise me you’re not going to run off and have his babies or anything.”
“Colby, you have got to be kidding me,” I say, offended by the implication that I would ever do anything of the sort. “There’s only one person--”
Colby cups my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him. “Babe, I am kidding. What happened to the girl who knew me so well she rarely took anything I said seriously? Because I know I haven’t changed that much in the last two months.”
“I know, I guess I’m still trying to get used to all of this.” I rest my hand on his chest, taking a few deep breaths to ground myself.
Cameron returns, leading us into the game room, which seems to be a hub of activity. Small groups are scattered throughout the room, carrying on their own conversations. Cameron takes time to introduce us to each group, informing everyone that Colby has just signed with Pete and will be getting in the studio very soon. The only way I know who the celebrities are in the group is the way Colby’s body tenses around me when certain names are mentioned. Other than the biggest names that are all over television and Facebook, I really have no clue when it comes to country music. Certainly not enough to know faces or names without a song to go with them, but I keep that little bit to myself.
I’m swept away by a beautiful woman named April. Her husband, Gabe, plays bass and according to her, it sounds like our men are going to be working together soon. Like Colby, Gabe has been doing set work, waiting for something better to come along. She whispers in my ear about different people as we make our way outside, letting me know which of the women I can trust and which ones are nasty, overprotective bitches when it comes to their men. I giggle when she comments how one wife’s boobs are at least two cup sizes bigger than they were at the last party. It’s catty and feels like gossip, but it’s also the type of thing that my friends and I would point out to one another at our parties back home.
The sun disappears beneath the horizon and more people come outside, where there’s a bonfire roaring at the back of the property line. I’m sitting with April and two other women now, watching as the men pass guitars around, giving those of us who aren’t musically inclined an impromptu concert under the stars. Other than the fact that there are no fewer than four Grammy winners in our midst, it’s exactly the type of night Colby and I enjoyed as teens back at the farm with our friends.
It’s after three in the morning when everyone starts to say goodnight and we make our way back to the hotel. I strip out of my dress, falling between the sheets, exhausted and with a renewed sense of hope that our life might not be as different as I feared it was going to be. The only thing left to settle in my mind so I can be at peace with these changes is what I’m going to do with my own life, but as long as I can figure out a way to fall asleep in Colby’s arms as often as possible, I believe everything else will fall into place.
Chapter 11
Colby
I’ve heard people talk about life as a musician being like a whirlwind, but never fully understood that phrase until now. I thought it would be hard to watch Lea get on the plane to go home, but truthfully, a small part of me is glad she’s not here right now because I’d feel like an asshole for ignoring her.
Aaron was right when he told me there wouldn’t be time to work. Pete and Cameron want to get me in the studio as quickly as possible because in a little over two weeks, I’ll be hitting the road with a band that hasn’t even been put together yet as the opening act for Missy Harrington. Along with performing an average of five shows each week, they are contacting radio stations in each city to help get my name out there.
As if all of that isn’t enough, I’m already starting to feel the backlash of being a relative newcomer to town. They might think they’re being quiet, but I hear the whispers about how I was handed a contract I don’t deserve simply because of who I know. While that might be true to an extent, all the connections in the world wouldn’t have gotten me to where I am if I didn’t have the talent to back it up. They’re just jealous because I have what they want and it didn’t take me years to get it.
“Okay Colby, let’s try it again,” Cameron’s voice echoes through the speaker connecting the mixing booth to the closet where I’m isolated, singing the same lyrics over and over again. We’ve sat down a few times to discuss what works and what doesn’t and I’m beginning to feel my confidence waver the longer the day goes on. If I can’t get one song to sound right, how in the hell am I supposed to get to the point where I can do a thirty minute set in front of a live audience?
I take a few deep breaths; picturing Lea sitting on a stool in front of me as the background track starts playing in my headphones again. I keep my eyes clenched tight as I start to sing, imagining that we’re sitting in our apartment back home and she’s the only person that matters. I can see the smile on her face, the way her green eyes shimmer with tears as I sing the lyrics meant only for her. There’s no Cameron, no Pete, no radio personalities who are going to judge me. As the music fades at the end of the song, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this take was different. This is what I came down here to do.
“Amazing, buddy,” Cameron confirms as soon as the red light bulb over the door turns off. “I don’t know what in the hell you did on that take that you weren’t doing before, but keep it up. Let’s see if we can get one more down and then we’ll grab a bite to eat.”
It’s close to midnight by the time we wrap for the day. Three songs down, way too many to go. As I follow Cameron out to the dark parking lot, he informs me that tomorrow is the day that I’ll meet the group they’ve assembled to play behind me, at least for this first leg of the tour. A couple of them are guys I met at Pete’s party, which is cool because I know Lea spent most of the night with their wives. Hopefully, that’ll make life a bit easier on her because it’s not like I’m out there with strangers she’s never met and I’m going to see if it’d be possible for her to stay in touch with April and Kara while we’re gone.
After a quick shower, I pick up the phone, hoping that Lea is still awake. When I was at the bar, it was easy to stay in touch with her because I was able to slip out the backdoor and call her when we were slow. Now, it’s been three days since I’ve talked to her because I’m in the studio until the middle of the night and she’s off to school before I roll out of bed. I told her not to worry about waking me up, that it’d be better than having my dreams about her disrupted by an offensive beeping from my phone, but she won’t, arguing that it’s important that I’m getting enough rest so my voice isn’t tired during the day.
The phone rings three times and I’m about to hang up when I hear her sleepy voice across the line. “Colby?”
“Hey, did I wake you?” It’s a ridiculous question, but I’m so shocked that I’m actually hearing her voi
ce that I can’t think of anything else to say. I lie down in my cold bed, wishing she was rolling over to look at me instead of sleeping alone almost a thousand miles away.
Every time we talk, it gets harder for me to keep from begging her to move down here. We could get our own place and at least be together on the nights when I am home. And somehow, in my delusional mind, I feel like the distance between us wouldn’t be so great when I’m gone because she would be in my space. But I can’t do that. She confided in me the last night she was here that she’s not sure what she wants to do with her life and I know it would be too easy to convince her while she’s got that weighing on her mind. If and when she makes that move, I want to know she’s doing it for herself, not for me.
“Yeah, but it’s okay. My first class isn’t until eleven tomorrow. How was your day?” Every time we do talk, this is her first question. I don’t want to bore her, but she says it makes her feel like she’s here with me. Her interest in the highs and lows of my day is purely genuine.
I tell her about meeting with a stylist who is pushing me to lose what she calls my grungy slacker look and Lea laughs, telling me she agrees that I need to look more put-together once we hit the road. She tells me to stop being so hard on myself when I tell her what a disaster our morning recording session was. And when I finally get to telling her that Gabe and Matt will be joining me on tour, she squeals in excitement and I have to pull the phone away from my ear to avoid permanent hearing loss.
“That’s awesome! I’m so glad they’re going with you. I know that’s got to be good news for April and Kara too, knowing they won’t have to worry about making ends meet every week.” Her words remind me again just how lucky I am to have Aaron in my life. I could have easily wound up where they are, holding down two or three jobs, killing myself in hopes that opportunity would eventually knock on my door. “Do you want me to come down there before you leave?”