Dare to Dream (Truth or Dare #2)

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Dare to Dream (Truth or Dare #2) Page 16

by Sloan Johnson


  I’m not sure anything will help right now. The longer I think about it, the more pissed I become. Not at the tabloid website or the DJ, but at Lea. She knows I would never do something like this to her. A big part of the reason I didn’t do relationships before her was that I sucked at monogamy but refused to be a cheater. Lea has made it easy for my eyes to stay fixated on her. But it doesn’t matter because she somehow saw these fucking pictures and believes what’s on the screen instead of what she knows in her heart.

  “Thanks. I’m going to step outside, just in case shit gets loud.” I hope it doesn’t, but one way or another, I’m going to make her understand.

  “Remember, Colby, she’s trying to get used to you being in the spotlight as much, maybe more, than you are.” Missy retreats to the back room of the bus, the bedroom, which is off-limits to everyone but her.

  “Colby,” Gabe calls out, following me off the bus. I wave him off, not wanting to put off this call another second. I have shit to straighten out and nothing he can say is more important than that. “Dude, hang on a second. I know what you’re about to do, but you need to be smart.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I ask, pissed because he’s right. I’m ready to scream at her, which will do nothing but bolster her assumptions that I’m guilty when I’m not. “Tell me, Gabe, what would you do if this was you and April?”

  “Could you chill out for two seconds?” He pushes me against the side of the bus and I’m tempted to take a swing. “April’s up at your place back home. She called me this morning to see if I knew anything. According to her, Lea was already gone when she woke up, but the laptop was open to the pictures. I told her that there’s not a chance in hell anything’s going on and she’s going to talk to Lea when she gets home. So I suggest you don’t fuck things up because, right now, you have people willing to go to bat for you. If you call her, going off half-cocked, it won’t be good.”

  He pats me on the shoulder and turns to leave. I take a minute to compose myself, tamping down the anger that’s building toward just about everyone back home. They’re the ones who know me, but the only people who believe I’m being faithful are those who barely know me. Pacing along the side of the bus, I listen to the phone ringing in my ear, wondering if Lea’s so pissed at me right now that she won’t even answer my call. She has no right to be mad, but I guess Missy does has a point. She sees what the rest of the world does and has no clue what to believe. And with the statistics on idiots who forget about their promises when they’re out on tour, it’s not hard to make that leap when faced with photographic evidence.

  “Hello,” she answers, sniffling. Dammit, she’s been crying about this while I’ve been working. No matter how much I remind myself that getting pissed is the wrong way to handle this situation, it’s a struggle to keep my emotions in check. She’s got herself all worked up about this, even though I’ve promised her until I’m blue in the face that I would never do anything to betray her.

  “Hey, baby.” I have no fucking clue how to proceed. Do I wait for her to bring it up or do I tell her right off the bat that it’s not what it looked like? Either way, I’m opening the door for her to think I’m hiding something.

  “Hey.” One word answers, this is bad.

  “Okay, since I’m sure you know Robby’s been blowing up my phone and it’s obvious that you’re pissed at me right now, I’m going to say what I have to say, okay?” I look to the sky shaking my head, wishing I could get my hands on whoever took those fucking pictures.

  “Yep.”

  I blow out a deep breath to keep my temper in check. The worst thing I could do right now is make it sound like I’m pissed at her for how she’s reacting. I am, but I’ve calmed down enough to realize she won’t want to hear that. We can talk about the trust factor once we get through this first shit storm.

  “Baby, the pictures you saw were taken last night. Missy and I went to dinner with Pete and Cameron to discuss the next leg of the tour. After they left, we hung around for a while because it’s nice to get away from the guys on the bus sometimes. Someone caught a picture when we were leaving.” I pause to take a breath. “They didn’t even give a shit about me: it was because Missy is a hot commodity right now because she’s just coming back from her surgery. I had no clue it was going to happen, otherwise, I would have called you last night to warn you.”

  It wouldn’t surprise me if she didn’t understand a word I said because I was trying to talk as fast as possible to keep her from interrupting.

  “Okay.” I pull the phone away from my ear, staring at it, wishing it were possible to shake the phone and somehow get through to her.

  “Lea, I love you. Please tell me you’re not doubting us,” I plead, never regretting my decision to move to Nashville more than I do right now. I feel her pulling away from me and there’s nothing I can do about it from three states away. “If you don’t want to believe me, talk to April. She called Gabe this morning to find out if it was true or not.”

  She sighs heavily into the phone, her breath hitching as she tries to quiet her sobs. “I just… I was caught off guard, that’s all,” she whispers so quietly I can barely hear her. “I have to get to my last final, can I call you later?”

  I have no choice but to let her go. I say goodbye, telling her that I’ll see her tomorrow night. One more night and I can have her in my arms, even if only for a little while.

  Chapter 19

  Lea

  If I pass my last final of the semester, it’ll be a miracle. The entire time I was trying to answer the questions on my American History Since 1920 exam, images of Colby and Missy flooded my mind. The two of them holding one another as they left the restaurant. Colby holding the door open as she stepped into a pickup at the curb. Them sharing a laugh as Colby drove away.

  I want so badly to believe him, to trust that I didn’t see what I saw, but I just don’t know. He’s never been the type of guy to settle down with one person and made no secret of the fact that it’s because he gets bored too easily. What if that’s the case? What if he’s bored with me or I’m incapable of holding his attention because we’re so far apart? Even if he’s telling the truth about this particular incident, what about next time?

  “Girl, tell me you weren’t looking at this shit,” April criticizes the moment I open the front door to my apartment. Boxes line the front hall, waiting to be loaded into the moving truck I’m supposed to pick up in two days. This debacle has me wondering if I’d be better off unpacking and facing the fact that we might not be the couple that defies the odds. “Gabe called and said Colby’s flipping the fuck out on the bus. I thought you knew better than to trust what you see online.”

  April and I have been doing pretty well with the temporary roommates situation. Truthfully, she’s been a blessing, both with me trying to get packed and because she keeps me sane in moments like this. I’ll miss her when she goes back to her own place.

  “I got online this morning and that was in my alerts,” I tell her, heading directly to the fridge for a cold beer. Because I’m only going to be here a couple more days, my refrigerator looks like most people assume a college student’s should: beer, ketchup, pickles and an old container of takeout that needs to be thrown away.

  “And you believed that shit they were saying?” she asks, her tone accusatory. “Girl, do you know even who Missy is living with?” I shake my head because I’ve never given it much thought. Everyone in the media thinks she’s single and no one has ever said otherwise, so I assumed that to be the case.

  “She’s all but married to Cameron Best.” I almost drop my beer on the tile floor. “Yeah, now don’t you feel stupid?” April pats the cushion next to her on the couch. I sit, feeling like an idiot.

  “How’s that even possible?” I ask, still dumbfounded that Missy, the girl I almost believed was sleeping with my boyfriend, is involved with the owner of the record label they’re both signed to. “I mean, wouldn’t the tabloids be all over that?”r />
  April nods, flipping through channels on the television. “They’re very careful about making sure it stays quiet; never attending events together, rarely going out unless it could be perceived as a business function, shit like that. Personally, I wouldn’t want to live that life, but he’s trying to protect both Missy and his daughter.”

  “When…” I don’t finish the question. It doesn’t matter. They obviously don’t want people knowing what’s going on between them, so pressing for information about their private lives is no better than people plastering Colby and Missy all over the internet.

  “About a year now. Cameron’s big fear is people will assume that’s why she got signed, but from what I hear, she was well into her first album by the time they went on their first date.” April pauses, contemplating whether or not she should share more. “Supposedly, she saw Cameron’s daughter wandering around and offered to teach her how to play guitar. They spent hours hanging out together since Missy was waiting on the engineers to tell her what they needed to finish out the album and his daughter hates having to come to work with dad in the summer. Once Cameron saw how well the two of them got along, it didn’t take long before he invited Missy out to dinner.”

  Wow. Now, I really feel like a bitch. “Damn, I’ll be back. I need to apologize to both of them.” Crossing to my bedroom, I close the door behind me, flopping down on the bed. When I get Colby’s voicemail, I look at the clock. Four fifty-two. He’s probably doing sound check. “Hey baby, it’s me. I know you’ll be busy until late, but I wanted to call and apologize for how I reacted this morning. I talked to April and she showed me what an idiot I was being. Anyway, I guess I’ll catch you later. Love you, Cowboy.”

  I hang up, waiting a few minutes in case he calls back. When he doesn’t, I rejoin April on the couch. “We’ll get to the headlines in a moment, but first, let’s check the Storm Mode forecast…” the news anchor announces. I look up at the television and my heart plummets. There’s a huge storm headed our direction and it looks as if we’re getting ready to take a winter beating. To make matters worse, Illinois is going to get the same back-to-back storms, but part of their state is forecasting ice.

  “Shit,” I mutter, never taking my eyes off the radar map.

  “Doesn’t look good, L. What are we going to do?” I know exactly what April’s asking. We’re supposed to be driving to Minnesota and back tomorrow, and then down to Nashville the next morning. There’s no way that’s going to happen with the snow and ice they’re predicting. Even if we could make it up to Rochester and back, there’s no way we’re going to be able to drive a moving van on snowy and icy roads. And seeing as they’re calling for the weather to stay this way for the next five days and I’m the only one of us with any experience driving on crappy roads, there’s only one option.

  “Looks like I need to make some phone calls.” I had been planning on showing Colby pictures of our new condo when I see him in Rochester, but that’s not going to happen. We have to get our hands on a truck as soon as possible and get out of town ahead of the storm. Now, I wish I hadn’t insisted on that being a face-to-face conversation because I’m not sure how well he’s going to take that on top of the fact that we’ll have to wait ten more days to see one another.

  Less than an hour later, April and I are sweating our butts off, carrying load after load of boxes from my apartment to the elevator and then from the elevator out to the truck. Even the frigid Wisconsin night doesn’t cool us off.

  “So, have you told Colby about the condo yet?” April asks when we take a break.

  “Tonight,” I promise her. It’s not like I can put it off any longer. If I don’t tell him what’s going on, he’s going to assume I don’t want to see him and that’ll mess with his mind. Funny, because the exact reason I haven’t told Colby that I’m taking a break from school and moving down to Nashville is because I didn’t want him worried about that when he should be focusing on the music, but now, the distraction is inevitable.

  It’s almost eight o’clock and I have nothing but unpleasant conversations heading my way for the rest of the night. I’m hoping to catch up with Colby when he comes off stage tonight so I can break it to him that I won’t be there tomorrow but we’ll have our own place set up by the time he gets home. Hopefully, the good news will help him get over the bad. But before that can happen, I have to drive to my parents’ and let them know I’m leaving. No matter what I tell them, there won’t be any joy in that particular conversation. Then, I have to drop Colby’s car off at Robby’s because there’s no way I’m driving that beast to Nashville if the roads are bad. Colby’s Cutlass is his baby, one of the few good memories he has with his father. I’d never forgive myself if something happens to it. Unfortunately, I also haven’t mentioned this little plan to Robby or Amanda because I didn’t want them accidentally mentioning it to Colby. I have no idea how they’ll handle the news that we’re moving away permanently, but I can’t imagine Amanda’s going to be pleased after the way I started her morning.

  In hindsight, moving without giving everyone plenty of notice might fall right near the top of dumbest ideas I’ve ever had.

  “Hey, you go ahead and hang out here. I have to make a couple of stops and we’ll take off once I get back.” The apartment is paid up through the middle of January, so I’m not terribly worried about making sure it’s spotless right now. Hopefully, my parents won’t hate me so much that I’m not welcome home for Christmas. Since Colby will be home then, we can both come up and face the music, no pun intended, and give the apartment a deep clean before we donate the furniture.

  No lights are on when I pull into the driveway of my childhood home. I sit in the car, debating whether or not to walk inside when the front porch light flickers on. My father steps onto the front porch in a pair of lounge pants and his robe, staring at me inquisitively, waiting for me to get out of the safety of Colby’s car.

  “Hi, Daddy,” I greet him, keeping my eyes on the cobblestone pavers leading to the porch. I haven’t been here since the blow-up with my mother, a fact I now regret because it raises his suspicion.

  “Lea, is everything okay?” he asks, his voice laced heavily with concern.

  I tentatively step into his outstretched arms, hating myself a little bit for what I’m about to do. No matter how many times I justify this decision, I can’t shake the feeling that he will be disappointed in me. “I’m fine, Daddy. Is Mom home?”

  “No, she had a late meeting tonight and probably went out for drinks after. What’s up?” He holds the door wide, ushering me inside.

  There’s no easy way to break the news to him, so I blurt it out. “I’m moving to Nashville so I can be closer to Colby.”

  The darkness in the foyer is welcomed because it keeps me from seeing the expression on his face. If his deep breathing is any indication, he’s struggling to keep from screaming at me. “I see,” he says flatly. “And what about school?”

  Luckily, the time I’ve spent avoiding sharing my decision with anyone has given me plenty of nights alone in my bedroom, contemplating every possible protest. “I’m going to take a semester off while I establish residency in Tennessee. In the fall, I’ll go back to school. I already checked and my scholarships will transfer to the schools I’m looking into, so there won’t be any additional burden.”

  What I’m not telling him is that it will take me longer to complete because the past semester has shown me how much I hate numbers. Math was never my strongest subject, but when it came time to declare a major, I knew that Accounting would make my parents proud of me for choosing a responsible, useful major instead of anything I’m remotely interested in.

  “And what will you do for work?” he asks, still not happy with me, but willing to listen. It’s more consideration than I would have received if my mother had been home.

  “I’m going to be working at a club. The family Colby stayed with when he first moved down there owns a place called Black Skye and Aaron is looking for a bar m
anager.” My dad flicks on the light, leading me deeper into the house. We make our way to his office, a room I’ve always found stuffy and uncomfortable, probably because I was only ever in here when I had done something wrong or it was time for a serious father-daughter talk. I’m hoping this qualifies as the latter, but the jury is still out.

  “And what type of club is this?” he asks, steepling his fingers in front of his face once he’s seated in the oversized leather chair behind his desk.

  “It’s a music club, Dad. A very reputable establishment featuring live music every night,” I respond defensively. “Once Aaron learned that I’m majoring in Accounting, he talked to me about helping him with the books and running the bar so he can be home with his family more often.”

  “And what happens once you’re in school? I’m sure you don’t expect to be able to work full-time and maintain your grade point average.”

  “Aaron already assured me that he will work around my schedule when the time comes,” I say confidently.

  “Where will you live?” It’s as if he has a scripted list of questions, hoping to trip me up. It won’t happen because my parents are nothing if not predictable.

  “We’ll be renting a condo for the time being. Colby will be able to afford to carry the majority of the rent once I’m in school and it’s in a good neighborhood.” Not that I would ever expect him to support me, but I figure it’ll settle my father’s mind to know that it’s not prohibitively expensive.

  “Well, it sounds as if you’ve thought of everything. I have to say, I’m not one-hundred percent certain this is the best decision, but it’s time that I let you live your life.” The typically jovial corners of his mouth sag, even his green eyes look sad with his admission. “I’m going to respect your choices, but you need to know that I’m not willing to provide financial support any longer. If you want to live your life as an adult, that’s fine, but you will struggle the same way we all had to at some point.”

 

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