Childish Dreams Read online

  “At least it fits,” I admitted from behind the curtain, realizing it didn’t cling to the areas I’d worried it would grip unforgivingly.

  “Of course it does. We’re a fantastic department. We know exactly what size our contestants need, when we want them to shock and wow the audience, and when we need to send you out there looking demure and sweet. You’re right that this is different than what the other contestants have worn thus far, but baby girl, do you really want to be forgotten?”

  When I stepped out from behind the curtain, I knew from the way it stretched over my chest and clung to my shoulders that this dress would raise eyebrows. Discussed over talk shows and in blogs online? Definitely. Forgotten amongst the many? Never.

  “I don’t even look like me,” I muttered when I stood in front of the full-length mirror and examined my reflection.

  “You look like a star,” Michael gleefully stated as he held up my own black ankle boots.

  I took a deep breath and hoped that would make a difference.

  Walking onto the stage holding the microphone Connor gave me, I took it all in. This was the first time I had ever sung in a theater of this magnitude, and the fact that it made the hall where we held our school’s annual talent show look like a country shed made me question my ability to perform.

  What am I doing?

  When the heels of my boots clicked along the surface, I felt every pair of eyes in the audience follow me. I hoped that once I started singing, all the contestants watching would turn to the person sitting beside them, like so many did yesterday and the day before that, and chat about what songs they’d sing if they make it to the live tapings in Los Angeles. I needed them to remain uninterested in anyone’s performance or journey on this show other than their own if I was going to make it through this round.

  “Hey, Billie Bishop,” Russell welcomed me when I eventually stood in front of them all. “You ready to show us what you’ve got?”

  My nerves were caught in my throat, and I couldn’t remember what I’d planned to say. I was pretty sure I told myself I was going to be charming and relaxed, but I suddenly didn’t know what words would make me seem anything other than frightened and panicked.

  “Of course she is,” Claudia covered for me. “Look at that outfit. I’m jealous. I need that dress for the next time I’m in Vegas and have a hot date. Although, I doubt I would look that good in it.”

  I smiled at her kind words and tried not to pull at the hem, like Michael instructed.

  “We finally going to hear you sing country?” Jax asked, smiling. His real smile, not his camera-persona one. “You going to show us your best Miranda Lambert impersonation?”

  It was like we were back sitting in that small dive bar we found last night just off the strip. Just us, away from cameras and contestants, teasing each other about our music taste and talking about our past like old friends. It was exactly what I needed to hear, and how I needed to feel.

  I couldn’t stop the real laugh that followed or talking to him like I always did in private, rolling my eyes and telling him, “Not going to make myself look like a fool trying to do that. I know better. Today, I’m going to sing Demi Lovato’s ‘Stone Cold.’”

  “Ex-boyfriend got you feeling bad?” he asked with an edge to his voice that I hadn’t heard before.

  “This song never makes me think about some boy,” I replied softly. “I heard it shortly after I found out my father had a new family. Saw photos of his new baby daughter. The one he planned. I guess I figured a few people can relate, and that’s who I want to be as a musician. Someone people can relate to.”

  The crowd cheered, and a few stood and hollered at me.

  Jax smiled at me, his cocky, reassuring smirk calming my nerves yet again. “Well then, let’s hear it. Try not to be terrible, okay?”

  I laughed once more before I heard the piano begin to play.

  It took only seconds before it felt like I was transported back in time. I didn’t notice that there was complete silence in the auditorium. I no longer worried about what the contestants were doing because I was lost in the song and the first moment I’d ever heard it.

  I pictured the Facebook images of my father and his new family Zach had stumbled upon. I heard my voice begin to sing the first few notes softly, like tears building behind my eyes. They were powerful, repetitive, and fell to the floor like sharp shards of glass. As the emotions of the day rushed back to me, I rasped out my pain and gripped the microphone with all my strength. I looked at Jax as I told him my story through the lyrics of the song. I didn’t stop unveiling my past heartache when it overwhelmed me; I just kept singing, getting louder and louder. I closed my eyes until I felt the song and my past rip me open and soar to the ceiling. When I reached the final lyrics, I barely had enough energy to whisper them to the audience and let the song end in silence.

  The moment I opened my eyes and looked out into the faces of the other contestants, some of whom had tears streaming down their faces, they all stood and began cheering.

  When I looked back at Jax, he merely smiled, shook his head, and then finally joined his fellow judges, who were already giving me a standing ovation.

  The noise was so loud that I didn’t hear the praise or feedback Claudia and Russell tried to give me because there were just too many people calling things out to me. I was overwhelmed by the support.

  People finally stopped clapping, and I managed to hear Jax state between chuckles, “Well, that definitely wasn’t terrible.”

  Before I could smile at him, Connor Graves walked on stage cheering and pretending to wipe away tears. “Billie, I know you just sang on your first Las Vegas stage, but I don’t think I’m the only one who will say this certainly won’t be your last. And how grateful we all are to be here for free, knowing one day you’ll be charging us hundreds of dollars to sit and watch you sing. I wish I could keep you on stage, but unfortunately some poor fool has to get up here now and try to follow your song with one of his own.”

  His words should have made me want to smile, but his tone and the nasty glint in his eyes had me moving as quickly as possible to join Faith in the audience and attempting to fade back into insignificance.

  Four hours later, I was lying on my bed in the hotel room staring at the ceiling. My body was on strike, exhausted and unwilling to follow any more commands after the day it had. I didn’t know if it was the performance or the endless one-on-one interviews the show insisted I film that nailed the coffin closed on the possibility of my doing anything this evening other than groaning and taking a very long and very hot shower.

  If I never again had to talk to Connor Graves about my father’s new family, my nonexistent love life, and my desire to sing songs that connect people, it would still be too soon.

  “I didn’t know you could sing like that,” Faith prattled from the bathroom still energized from her day watching auditions. “Like sure, I figured you had to be good because you’re here with me on the show. And Jax did give you that look at the beginning of filming, but I thought that was because he found you hot. Now I get it, he knew you were going to win this thing.”

  I wanted to object to her declaration but didn’t have the energy to respond.

  Not that Faith seemed to mind; she just continued talking while applying her makeup and doing her hair. “I thought you were sneaking off each night to talk dirty to your boyfriend on the phone, but you’ve been practicing, haven’t you? Did you rehearse how your voice broke? And your story… I was crying in the audience like a banshee amongst a whole bunch of people who don’t even know you. And everyone else, well, they were ugly crying right along with me. Girl, I hope your dad watches you on the show and feels like a d*ck. I’m so proud of you for talking about your past like that. Sure, there are always contestants who have a sad story and try to use it for some more time on screen, but it was clear that wasn’t what you were doing. You were being relatable and singing for all the girls who have deadbeat—”

 
With a knock at the door, Faith seemed to finally take a breath and pause from her never-ending monologue. When she didn’t start up again after she closed the door, I lifted my head to see what had broken her focus on my performance. She was holding a basket with a big blue ribbon on top.

  “What is that?”

  “A gift for you,” she muttered.

  “You’re not going to give it to me?” I laughed.

  She turned and poked her tongue out.

  “I wanted to see who it was from because it is weird.”

  “What is it?”

  “A basket of baseball caps.”

  Knowing exactly who those were from, I couldn’t help the grin that appeared on my face. I tried to look out the window so she didn’t see my smile and start asking questions.

  “Maybe someone will call soon and explain, because the card just says your name,” Faith said while rummaging through the basket. “No sender. No note. Nothing. I bet it was that country boy Ryne. I’ve heard rumors he’s slept with six different contestants already. Now that he’s seen you perform, I bet he wants to be like some weird power couple, and he wears that cowboy hat, so maybe he’s giving you options. If he calls you after I’m gone, you have to fill me in with his smoothest line. I bet it includes the word ‘peaches.’ He’s so gross.” I wanted to laugh but didn’t want her to start coming up with other possibilities. “You still going out?” I asked.

  “We only have two more nights in this city,” Faith replied while spinning around in her flowing red dress. “I’ve put contacts in and lipstick on, which means I am ready to convince someone I’m twenty-one, have them buy me drinks, and hopefully be married by Elvis this evening.”

  “Big night for you, then.” I chuckled. “Don’t forget to take wedding pictures to show your boring roommate.”

  “Will do. You’re sure I can’t convince you to get out of bed in case I need a maid of honor?”

  “After the day I’ve had, there is absolutely no possibility of my leaving this room. I’m sorry.”

  “All good. Just don’t wait up,” she replied before winking, grabbing her purse, and heading for the door.

  Silence settled in the room the moment the door closed. I exhaled and shut my eyes. Maybe I wouldn’t even have a shower tonight. Maybe I would just fall asleep right here and now.

  A bang on the door had me opening them again. Knowing Faith probably forgot her room key, I groaned and got up to let her in. Damn that girl. At least the carpet was soft and fluffy beneath my feet. “If you’re already married, I’m going to warn you that I won’t be giving up our room so you can consummate your vows.”

  Jax’s raised eyebrow and pursed lips greeted me when I opened the door. “Not married, and rest assured, if I was going to consummate anything, it wouldn’t be in your room.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  He was still wearing his celebrity judging suit from earlier: tight leather pants molded to his thighs and a loose black shirt stretched over his broad shoulders falling loosely over his narrow hips. His dark eyes were no longer hidden behind a baseball cap but focused on mine with an intensity I didn’t know what to do with. I felt my body shiver and my brain shut down.

  “Y-You’re dressed like a celebrity,” I stuttered, trying to get my neurons firing again.

  “I just came from a small party with the director and crew. You need me to go get into sweatpants and come back? Will that help you close your mouth?” He grinned. “Come on, just let me in. I promise not to act like a celebrity and break anything. I’ll pretend I’m wearing pajamas with sheep on them too.”

  His teasing comment broke the trance I was in and made me look down at my outfit. Yep, flannel pajamas with flying sheep. Well, sh*t.

  “Michael didn’t let you keep the dress?” Jax asked when he walked in and sat down on the edge of my bed. It was like it was completely natural to him, hanging out in my hotel room and chatting with me about my clothes. If it was so easy for him, why was it freaking me out?

  “God, no, I wouldn’t want to.” I shivered and moved to the edge of Faith’s bed to sit opposite him.

  “Leather looked good on you. You should change your mind,” he muttered while turning his head to look around our hotel room.

  “You look good in leather, yet I don’t see you rocking this look unless you have work.”

  “You think leather looks good on me?” Jax smirked.

  “Oh don’t look at me like that. You know it does. But we both know that, just like me, you prefer clothes that breathe. And baseball caps.”

  “Speaking of baseball caps, you get my present?” he nervously asked, his eyes searching the room.

  “Yeah, my roommate thinks they’re from the cowboy contestant who’s been ‘romancing’ all the girls,” I told him, chuckling. “She put them on the chair in the corner.”

  “After they air your performance today, you’re going to need a disguise,” he said softly, stopping his perusal of the basket to stare directly at me.

  “You think my flannel pajamas won’t be enough to trick people?” I joked.

  “I like what you’re wearing.” He leaned until our bodies were inches apart. “But if the aim is for you not to be noticed, your pajamas won’t work.”

  “But they’re comfy,” I tried joking again, only to have my breath stagger out as his hand reached out and ran along the bottom edge of my pajamas shirt.

  “I was thinking upstairs, surrounded by all the crew and big entertainment people,” he slowly began, “about how exhausted you would likely be after today’s performance.”

  “You knew that?”

  “Yep. Been there before, babe. I’ve sung about family to a group of strangers. I know it leaves a different impact. And I started getting pissed that their self-promotion and preening at me would prevent me from getting a chance to see you tonight. Tell you how amazing you were today.”

  “Is that why you’re here, in my room, for the first time?”

  “Partly.”

  “Wha-What was the other part?” I timidly stuttered.

  He leaned in closer, his hands moving from the hem of my pajamas to my chin and angling my head to his. “This.” He kissed me, soft and sweet, but with an edge that had me tumbling into a fog that concealed everything but how good it felt to have his lips pressed against mine.

  He leaned back and then just held his lips still against mine again for a second, two seconds, until what felt like an eternity passed and he finally slipped his tongue in my mouth and took another taste of me. It put me on my toes, reaching toward his hard body, desperate to be closer and feel what it would be like to be against him without clothes getting in the way. I could feel the heat radiating off his body, knew instinctively that he wanted to push this into something more, but his hands stayed still on my face.

  Lost in the fog, I nearly slipped off the bed when he moved his lips away and rested his forehead against mine. “I want you to come back to LA with me when this is over. Stay at my place before you have to film the live shows. I’ve got a spare bedroom. I’m not expecting anything. I just want to spend time with you like we have here. This is going to sound really lame, but you inspire me.”

  “Mmmm,” I hummed until his words pierced through the haze. “Huh? What? Why? Is this because I wore leather and for, like, a few minutes we matched. And you can’t tell me I’m going to be in the live shows.” He chuckled. I kept rambling. “I thought you wanted to be my friend so I kept you out of trouble. I’m thinking us hanging out in LA for a couple of weeks before we start filming, with me a contestant while you’re a judge, is totally not trouble free.”

  “Definitely not,” he murmured, staring into my eyes.

  “So then we both agree that it would be a huge mistake, and we’re going to pretend you never asked and you didn’t just kiss me, right?”

  He smirked at me. I could tell he didn’t care in the slightest about the trouble this might cause. He stood up and walked to the door. I remained frozen on the
edge of Faith’s bed, trying to process everything that just happened as I stared out the window to the flashing lights of the Las Vegas strip.

  “I don’t think I want to go a day without seeing you,” Jax said, forcing me to turn at look at him standing by the door. “If I’m being honest, I’ve been thinking about you since the moment you told me you’d just puked in a trash can. So, I guess if you don’t feel the same, that’s sweet. I’ll go back to LA and we’ll see each other on set. Otherwise, I’ll leave details for the plane with the concierge. Oh, and act surprised when they announce you’re in the top ten. Keep me out of trouble while you can.”

  And then he was gone.

  He’s a player

  Zach

  It was like explaining the rules of basketball to a foreign exchange student who didn’t speak English. “The show doesn’t air for another week. There is no reason why y’all had to come pushing your way into the room and take the remote. Go back to drinking your wine and gossiping about the neighbors on the front porch and let me finish watching my movie. You don’t just turn off Bruce Willis.”

  “Zachary, don’t sass your mother with that tone,” my momma, Cora Montgomery, replied with her eyebrows raised. “You’ve seen that movie at least a dozen times, and there was an ad for Superstardom yesterday. They’re doing a special segment on it tonight, like a sneak preview.”

  “Zach’s right, Cora. I looked up when the show starts, and it isn’t this week,” Michelle quietly stated, patting Rocket as he leaned against her hip. “If she makes it through the Las Vegas rounds, Billie’s meant to come home for a couple of weeks. When she leaves for Los Angeles to rehearse, they start airing the auditions and snippets from their time in Las Vegas. As soon as they finish their rehearsals, the live performances start. We should see her before we see the show on the television.”