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

a ten-ton truck. But, goddammit, Nova, I busted my ass to get here. I faced doubt at every fucking turn my whole life, and I can’t just say fuck it when I want to. I fucked up before, but I can’t let my past define me. I can’t let it keep me from a future I dreamed of—a future with the woman I love by my side not always trying to run.”

His words slammed into me, knocking the wind from my lungs. “Don’t say that,” I breathed.

“What? That I love you?” For every step I fumbled back, he followed. “I’ve loved you for so long that I don’t even know what it’s like to not have this feeling taking up every spare spot in my body. It’s part of me. You are part of me. You always will be.”

Too much. Too much. Too much.

I couldn’t breathe. It came at me from all angles, and all I wanted to do was ball up and be alone and ignore everything crumbling down on me.

“No. Parker, I can’t.” I shook my head, backing up more, lashing out blindly—pointlessly. “Go do your job, Parker. It’s what you always wanted.”

“Don’t, Nova. Please,” he pleaded through clenched teeth.

He stretched his hand out for me to take, and I stared, remembering the way they traced every dip and curve of my body. For a moment, I considered taking them, holding onto him, and taking the leap into the abyss.

But familiar, solid land stretched behind me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

And then I turned and did what he accused me of.

I ran.

Thirty

Nova

Regret hit me almost as soon as I left, but my feet refused to turn back. I went to the airport and booked a ticket to the closest I could get to New York. On my flight to Pittsburg, I clung to the merry-go-round of emotions, not sure how to let go when everything swirled around me like a blur.

As soon as I dried my eyes from crying, indignant anger burned. As soon as the embers cooled, defeat pulled me down into despair, where I started crying again. I hated it. I hated the way they blurred together and left me a mess I didn’t know where to begin to untangle. I didn’t know which thread to pull first without falling apart.

The only thing I did know was that I needed to get to solid ground. I needed to make the spinning stop.

When my flight landed, I didn’t take my phone off airplane mode, too scared of what waited for me. I booked a mini-cabin for the night before renting a car the next day after I peeled myself out from where I hid under the covers. I blasted music on my drive through the mountains. I tried to focus on the trees and the rocks and nature all around me. I tried to blot out the thoughts by belting out lyrics, but it was useless.

Nothing could distract me from my argument with Parker. We both lashed out. We both dug our heels in and landed blows that were wrongly delivered. We both acted without thinking. We were both wrong.

But one thing he was right about: I was a coward because I was the one running.

In the moment, it had filled me with an all too familiar feeling. The one where we only made it so far before falling apart. It’s like I’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop, and once it had, I gave in to the inevitability without trying to change anything.

So, I ran, never giving us a chance to figure it out together. I let the past dictate my future, and I hated it. It was like shining a light into the dark recesses of my mind, calling me out for not actually handling my trauma like I thought I had.

Seeing it there pissed me off. I wanted to rip it out and never let it back in again. I wanted to be strong, not a façade of strong waiting to crumble as soon as the past crept from the shadows.

I said I wanted to bungee jump, so dammit, I would bungee jump.

Which was why halfway through my drive, when I saw a sign, I veered off the road. Fate heard me, and even if it was only metaphorical, I needed to prove to myself that I could.

Because Parker Callahan said he loved me and, without a doubt, I knew I loved him too.

I loved him more than anything, including my fears.

I followed the signs and refused to back out.

I pushed past the racing heart as they strapped me into the harness. I focused on slowing my breath when they walked me to the edge. I closed my eyes and pulsed my sweaty fists open and closed, standing at the end of the platform. And when push came to shove, I opened my eyes and stared into the abyss.

My legs shook, but when I looked at the valley of trees and rocks, all I saw was Parker’s face asking me not to leave.

One more deep breath.

“I can do this.”

I jumped.

By the time I reached New York, I still hadn’t turned on my phone, leaving me unsure of how I’d be greeted. Not that it mattered. We stood by each other no matter what. So, with a deep breath, I knocked.

The door opened and—

“It’s about fucking time.” Rae propped one hand on the door and the other on her cocked hip, looking like a disapproving mama who wasn’t going to let me back inside until I explained.

But I couldn’t explain because, in the next second, I broke down in tears.

“Dammit,” she sighed. “You’re ruining my anger at you disappearing without an explanation.”

With that, she let go of the door and yanked me in her arms, squeezing me more tightly like she could strong-arm my soul back together. I clung to her and let her guide me inside to the couch, where she stroked my hair.

“You and Vera get one pass and