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

lost myself in his flavor, in the feel of his flexing muscles that hadn’t been there when we were kids, in the feel of his hard length pressing into me. I hadn’t meant to, but I rocked my hips, unable to help myself, loving his groan of pleasure at the small movement.

His thumbs reached around the front of my ribs, barely brushing the underside of my breasts, and I gasped, thrusting forward hard to ease the shot of electricity to my clit. He took the moment to move his kisses across my jaw and down my neck.

“God, Nova. I missed you,” he whispered for only me to hear. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you. How much I’ve dreamed of this—of you.”

His confession added another tidal wave, and this one hit too hard. Fire burned up the back of my throat, and I tried to blink away the tears but failed. Before I could wipe it away, his lips moved back across my cheek, stalling when he tasted the wet salt.

Slowly, he pulled back, his own eyes cloudy with the same emotions raging through me. One of his hands abandoned my ribs and came up to wipe away my tears. When another slipped free, he kissed it away. He delivered soft, soothing kisses, bringing us both back to shore, where we could finally breathe.

Because I could.

In his arms, finally cracking through the band of tension that squeezed tighter and tighter each day, I could breathe again. Maybe for the first time since I last felt his lips on mine.

“I missed you too,” I admitted.

A loud knock against the door jolted me so hard I almost jumped out of his arms.

“All right, party poopers. We’re heading to bed,” Oren called through the door.

Holding Parker’s stare, the intense moment was broken, but a softness lingered around the edges. With a protesting growl of frustration, he set me down, and we opened the door.

“Sorry, guys. I guess I can’t party like a rock star.”

“We’ve got another month. We’ll train you,” Brogan promised, wrapping his beefy arm around my shoulders in a side hug.

“Can’t wait,” I deadpanned.

By the time we all got ready for bed, I could barely crawl into my bunk. Exhaustion clung to every muscle, making me feel both heavier and lighter from the emotional release. I closed my eyes and didn’t even hear the guys shuffling around in their bunks or their usual jokes before bed. All I heard was the hum of the tires on the blacktop soothing me to sleep.

What felt like two seconds later, my curtain being pushed back woke me up, and I jerked at the shadowy figure hovering on the edge.

“It’s just me,” Parker whispered.

I stared, wide-eyed, watching his shadow climb into my tiny space. My heart hammered against my ribs so hard I was sure he’d hear it in the quiet, but if he did, he didn’t mention it.

He moved slow enough that I’d be able to tell him to get out if I wanted—but I didn’t. Instead, I scooted closer to the wall and made room for him just like I had when we were teens, and he snuck into my room at night.

And just like then, his hand found mine, and the worries from before slipped away.

For the first time in years, on a bus in the middle of nowhere, I knew.

With Parker Callahan, I was home.

Eighteen

Nova

Vera: What is up?

Rae: OMG! It’s been ages since we heard from you. Spill the tea!

Me: We talked three days ago.

Rae: Sooooo long ago.

Vera: Anyone got time for a FaceTime?

Rae: I wish, I have a gala to go to.

Vera: Someone is busy.

Rae: All. The. Time.

Me: I can’t. The guys are taking me out somewhere. It’s a surprise.

Rae: They know you hate surprises, right?

Me: I don’t *hate* them.

Vera: Yes, you do. Remember the birthday surprise we tried to throw, and you hid in the bathroom for the first thirty minutes.

Me: It was very overwhelming.

Vera: Because you hate surprises.

Me: I’m sure it will be nice.

Rae: Is it a sex club?

Me: I hope not …

Rae: God, I hope so. I would be so jealous.

Vera: How’s that boyfriend?

Rae: Side eye …

Me: LOL!!

Vera: Hahaha!

Rae: Keep us updated and make sure you memorize everything. I want to know it all. Every ridge, vein, and length.

Me: OMG! It’s not a sex club!

Rae: But if it is …

Me: Then every ridge and length.

Rae: You’re the best.

Me: Kisses. And we’ll FaceTime soon. I have stories.

Rae: Ugh. How you gonna leave us hanging like that.

Me: Byeeee.

Vera: Bye bitch. I hate you for that cliffhanger … but have fun!

“Ready to go?” Parker asked.

I looked up from my spot at the table, transfixed by the way his white T-shirt pulled tight across his chest as he shrugged on his navy flannel button-up.

“Is that drool?” Oren swiped my chin, and I jerked back, slapping his hand and delivering a death glare.

“Yes, I’m ready whenever you are,” I answered Parker like I hadn’t been caught ogling him.

His smile was full of arrogance, and I rolled my eyes, stuffing my phone into my purse and shoving Oren out of the booth so we could stand.

“Damn, Nova. I may start drooling over you. And that ink? Nnng.” Oren grunted.

I looked down at my relaxed, holey jeans rolled up for my Doc Martens, and my black Alkaline Trio concert tee. The shirt was cut off above my belly button, but the pants reached my waist, so it’s not like I bared too much skin.

Except for the back, which had thin strips of the shirt tied to hold it together, baring the tattoo running the length of my spine.

Parker twirled his finger, directing me to turn. I held my breath when I heard his steps get closer, pulling my hair aside to bare my back. The rough pad of his finger started between my shoulder blades, where I knew the head of the phoenix rested. My muscles contracted, sending prickles of awareness down my spine as if chasing his