Blame it on the Tequila by Fiona Cole (the reading strategies book txt) 📕

both suitcases. I walked out the door and turned just in time to get hit in the face with the blanket. On instinct, I reacted and started flailing to get it off me, only flailing harder when my hands rubbed the fabric.

Once I finally had it balled up and shoved aside on a suitcase, I found a hysterical Nova watching me. Both hands covered her mouth, and her eyes gleamed with unshed tears. Her shoulders shook, and I pursed my lips.

“Oh, sure. Laugh it up.”

She wiped a stray tear and slapped her chest. “It was a blanket, not a box of spiders. If I would have known that would be your reaction—”

“You never would have done it?” I finished sarcastically.

“Oh, no. I would have done this so much sooner.”

She started laughing again, and I forgot about the blanket. You could have thrown a thousand of those blankets on me, and as long as I got to see Nova laughing, I’d have endured it without complaint. I soaked her in and memorized every new line and freckle she earned from the sun.

When she realized I was staring, she collected herself, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and looking to the floor. With a nod, she turned and locked the door behind her.

I led her to the car, and any playfulness we found in the hall vanished in the backseat. Instead, tension returned, increasing with each mile closer to the bus. Her silence worried me, and the way she kept chewing on the skin of her finger, her most anxious tell.

“You okay with this?” I asked.

She glanced at me before looking back out the window. “Yeah. It’s just work.”

It was so much more than work, and she knew that—we both knew it. I was just the only one willing to face it. Maybe without an escape, I could make her face it too. Just enough to clear the air and get us to stable ground.

“Listen, Nova.” She stiffened, but I pressed on. “About Sonia—”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It is.”

“Nope,” she declared, popping her p. “Besides, we’re here.”

“Dammit, Nova,” I snapped, punching the locks before she could get out. I should have started this conversation before we even left the apartment.

Without looking up, she pressed the unlock just for me to hit it locked again. It was like two kids bickering in the backseat.

Finally, she slowly shifted to look at me, and if looks could burn, I’d be ash. This was going in the wrong direction. This was supposed to be an easier conversation playing off the laughter from earlier. Instead, we were diving headfirst into dangerous territory and sharp reactions.

“I will nut-punch you, Parker Callahan.”

I met her glare with a challenging one of my own. We couldn’t keep doing this. “Fine. Do what you need to do, but you’ll at least listen before we get out.”

Rolling her eyes, she fell back against the seat and crossed her arms, pouting.

“I didn’t agree to Sonia being at New Year’s Eve. Aspen dropped it on me.”

“It doesn’t matter, Parker.”

“It does because you showed up there for a reason. You showed up to see me.”

“And it was a mistake,” she snapped. “I don’t know what I was thinking because the reality is that a few phone conversations don’t erase the past. It doesn’t change who we are.”

“I don’t want it to be like this.”

“How do you want it, Parker? For me to be your girlfriend?” She said it like it was the most absurd thing she’d ever heard.

“Nova…”

Her sigh carried more exhaustion than anyone should have to bear. “I’m just an old friend—your stepsister—here to work with you.”

“That’s not what I want,” I growled through a clenched jaw.

“I think that’s what it needs to be.” She swallowed before facing me again, and instead of a hollow void from before, wariness shone through. “This life, Parker—being here—it’s hard. You know I never considered being in the public eye, and when I tried…well, you know what happened.”

It haunted me every damn day.

“I have my stipulations about public arrangements for a reason. I don’t want to be out in the open without controlling the narrative, and that’s all you are.”

Her perfect freckles scrunched along her nose when she winced like the thought of remembering that flash of a moment hurt too much. Her eyes slid closed, and when they opened again, they were resolute, but nothing could hide the loss that echoed between us.

“I’m sorry, Parker,” she whispered. “I can’t do more.”

And with that, she got out.

I was too stunned by the loss to stop her.

Why bother?

She was obviously gone long before I had a chance.

I had nothing left to do but enjoy the time we had and soak up every second.

I had to—it would be all I had left of her in the end.

Fourteen

Nova

The bus rumbled along the road, getting pummeled by the downpour outside.

I sat in the booth seat at the table, and Parker across from me. The rest of the guys lounged in the captain’s chairs and couch, their instruments resting on their laps.

It was day three, and we had nothing.

In all fairness, the first day we stayed separate, as much as we could on a tour bus, Ash and Parker played a video game in the back, and I watched TV up front with Brogan and Oren. I allowed myself that first day to get settled—both physically and mentally. I still wasn’t sure I was settled mentally. I’d pull the curtain of my bunk back and jolt a little at finding Parker coming out of the bathroom. So much like it’d been when we were teens.

However, with time, I accepted it.

I was on tour with Parker Callahan. I slept all of two feet from him with barely a curtain between us. Put that down on my list of last things I imagined ever happening.

“Oren, play that beat again,” I asked.

I sat back on the seat, tapping my head on the wall behind me, sliding my eyes closed to listen. The sharp