Blame it on the Tequila by Fiona Cole (reader novel txt) 📗

glasses, and I ended up turning down one of my own, sticking to water.

“To rock stars and stepbrothers and sharing all the dirty details,” she said pointedly to me.

Vera and I snorted out a laugh and clinked our glasses together, diving into more details about Rae’s new boyfriend and trying to find out how Austin felt about it.

And I thought I was evasive.

PARKER

Supernova: Hey.

I looked down at the phone and smiled. We’d just got back to our hotel room after the show, and we all bounced around on cloud nine. A message from Nova was icing on the cake.

“Aww, look at him, smiling like a cute, lovesick puppy,” Oren baby-talked.

“Ha. Ha,” I deadpanned, flipping him off.

“You coming out with us tonight?” Ash asked.

“Nah. I’m staying in.”

“To talk to his girlfriend,” Brogan said.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” We never made it that far before things always fell apart.

“C’mon, we need to celebrate. Freaking New Year’s Eve in New York. It’s huge,” Ash tried to convince me.

The news hit me all over again, stealing the air from my lungs just like it had when Aspen told us earlier. “I still can’t believe it.”

“So, let’s celebrate.”

“Not tonight, bro. I may try to take this high and write some music.”

“Ugh. Fine,” he finally accepted. “Lifting tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you in the AM.”

Ash and I both got into lifting weights when we could. It started for vanity, but we quickly became addicted to the activity.

Waving the guys’ catcalls off, I shut myself in my room and pulled out my phone. Before I could respond, it rang in my hands—Aspen’s name showing up.

“Miss us already?” I answered.

“Hardly. I wanted to let you know that Sonia will be at the New Year’s Eve performance. That way, you can kiss her at midnight.”

On television for everyone to see? No. I wanted to be remembered for my performance that closed out the year, not who I made out with.

And I sure as hell didn’t want Nova to see. We spoke on and off for the last two weeks, and I knew I was winning her over to finally meet me at some point, but if she thought I was seeing someone, I knew she’d pull back hard. Not that she’d admit it, but I knew her well enough to hear the flirting every now and then. Besides, I wasn’t sure we would know how to be around each other as anything other than what we were.

“No,” I answered simply.

“What?”

“I said, no. I’m not making out with Sonia at midnight after a huge performance.”

“Uh, yes, you will. You guys are performing your latest song. It will be perfect. Fast paced and about being in love. The fans will love it.”

“Maybe the fans will love the music without a lie shoved in their face after.”

“Parker,” she argued, her patience running thin. “Don’t fight me on this.”

“Listen, this started as a convenience, but now I’m starting to feel like a show pony.”

“Well, you’re a show pony who signed a contract to uphold a number of interactions, and you haven’t fulfilled them.”

“Aspen, c’mon. I’m a musician. Let me be one.”

“You’re a musician who’s managed by your label, and this is part of it.”

“No,” I said again.

“Parker, this is happening. Accept it.” And with that, she hung up.

I fell back on the bed and ran my hand over my eyes, digging in to relieve some pressure.

My phone vibrated again, and I formulated a snarky response before I lifted it to find another message from Nova instead of Aspen.

Supernova: I know it’s late, but I wanted to let you know I saw you on that talk show last night. You guys looked good.

The tension drained out of me, like it had every time we talked. Not that it was often, but the few times were enough that I could breathe—almost enough to maybe try writing again.

Me: I always look good.

Supernova: *eye roll* you’re so full of yourself.

Supernova: How was your hike?

Me: Good. Short. Ash came with me.

Supernova: Sometimes, a short one is all you need.

Me: Really? I heard nice and long is what most women prefer.

Supernova: Still the same perverted jokes as before. Some things never change.

Me: I blame the rest of the guys. So immature.

Supernova: I bet.

Supernova: So, do you have any pics of the hike? I’m curious.

I scrolled my phone for the picture of the waterfall descending the jagged rocks and the one of the misty forest and fading greenery. To see if she’d mention it, I added the one Ash took with the waterfall behind me. We didn’t always have time for much, but we all enjoyed hiking when we got the chance, exploring all the different locations on tour. I’d been so stressed with the tour and the looming album, I pushed it to the side until Nova recommended a few trails.

Supernova: Beautiful.

Me: I know I am.

Supernova: *eye roll*

Me: You know you love it.

Me: Your turn. Send me a picture.

She sent a few of the forest canopy, the reds bleeding to orange and yellow. She sent me her own waterfall. She sent me one of craggy rocks falling off into the abyss. None of them were what I wanted.

Me: Show me one of you.

A moment later, a photo of her standing on a cliff, her back to the camera, looking out at the mountain peaks popping through the thick covering of clouds. My lids slid closed, and I imagined I was there behind her taking the picture. I’d have taken it and then wrapped my arms around her to stare out at the beauty beyond, her long fiery hair whipping around us.

The image settled deep in my bones, but it wasn’t the one I wanted.

Rock Star: Not an Instagram one. I want to see you.

I held my breath, watching the bubbles appear and disappear, only to reappear again. Finally, when I was sure I’d pass out, a picture came through.

Her over-exaggerated smile hit me so hard, I couldn’t help but laugh. Her dimples showed up in full force. Her full