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

“Someone who chases the fame.”

“No,” she answered easily with a small huff of a laugh. “I’ve never looked at you like that. Even though you talk about how much you want it and never hide the fact that it’s all you want, I’ve never thought you would leave important things behind for it. Also, my dad kind of just wanted it given to him. He didn’t want to work for it. Probably why he never actually made it.”

“Where is he now?”

“Don’t know.”

She shrugged, and I brushed her hair back, catching glimpses of her pale skin in the moonlight.

“I won’t leave you, Nova.”

“Don’t make that promise because you might have to. As much as I want to, I may not be able to go with you.”

I hated that truth. I wanted to say fuck it all and do as Ash threatened: kidnap her and make her stay by my side. “Okay, how about this? I’ll always come back to you, Nova. Always.”

“I can live with that,” she whispered so close her words brushed my chin.

Her hands wrapped around my back and held me close, pressing her soft chest to mine. Tipping my chin, I cradled the back of her head and brushed my nose against hers, aching with the effort to hold back.

“Parker?”

I grunted, too scared to say anything.

“Just…”

Whatever it was, she let it go, and the next thing I knew, her lips were on mine. Even quicker than that, she was under me. As soon as our lips connected, the chains on my control snapped.

She spread her legs, cradling me between them, and it would have been so easy to shove our clothing aside and be where I’d dreamed of being since I met her, but this was Nova, and I knew that whatever happened tonight wouldn’t change tomorrow. She deserved more than a fumbled rush in the dark.

Trying to slow us down felt about as hard as I imagined climbing Everest would be. I rolled to my side, delving my tongue into her mouth for a few more tastes to hold me over. With the intense pressure of my desire crushing in on me, I struggled to get a grip on my lungs as I finally slowed to a few pecks and eventually stopped completely.

“I hate this,” she whimpered.

“Me too.”

Before Nova, my focus had always been on music, and if a girl came along that intrigued me, I went for it. Then there was Nova. She intrigued me from the first smile and soft-spoken conversation. But once I got to know her, I saw the depth to her that matched my own. We just…clicked in an almost indescribable way.

I loved her. I wasn’t really sure what that meant. I guess I always thought of it as if you loved someone, then you made them your partner, your lover.

Nova wasn’t my lover, as much as I wanted her to be, but she was my partner—my best friend. My other half. She created this all-consuming tidal wave of this feeling—all the feelings—inside me, and I couldn’t put a name to it, but I knew it made me happier than I had ever been before.

And when I tried to put a name to it, all that came out was love.

If this was love, then I’d take it. Because having her in my arms right now was all I ever needed, and I never wanted to let that go.

But if I had to leave like she said, I’d always come back because there was no living life without Nova. Of that, I was sure.

Twenty-One

Parker

“Thank you, Columbus!” I shouted into the mic. “You’ve been amazing, and we can’t wait to come back.”

The crowd roared, and I closed my eyes under the flashing spotlights, basking in the sound I’d never tire of. My strap scraped my neck when I bent in half for a bow. Standing up, I flicked my sweat-soaked hair back and walked to the edge of the stage, tossing my pick out into the crowd like I had after every concert. Oren climbed out from behind his set and tossed out his broken drumsticks he used and abused throughout the concert.

He had more broken than usual after playing so hard.

The energy had been different this time around. More intense, and I think it had everything to do with the new energy we cultivated every day on our bus after clearing the air with Nova. It’d been about a week, and we’d already added four more songs to the playlist and cleaned up the others we’d barely scraped together before.

I think it had everything to do with the woman who stood off in the wings jumping and screaming along to each word of our songs. Every time I glanced her way, a jolt of electricity hit me, and I hit each note sharper than before. She’d come to two of the three shows this week, and it was like a puzzle piece that had been shifted just a little off-kilter clicked into place for us.

Like we’d said before. Nova was the glue that kept us grounded.

When we hadn’t had her, we’d ignored the shift and focused on our dream, growing accustomed to the ill-fitting feeling. Like a rock in your shoe that you didn’t have time to get out, so you just ignored it and eventually grew used to it. Until you were reminded of what it felt like to have that nagging pressure there all the time—then you realized how off you’d been walking this whole time.

Now, if only I could break through the thin veil holding us apart. I was so close, crawling into her bunk every night, not even bothering to wait and hide it anymore. We watched TV and talked about experiences. She told me about her favorite hikes, and I told her about our favorite shows. One night we’d laid on our sides, barely fitting in the damn thing with a pen and paper between us and jotted