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

I’d run. Everyone else be damned.

With a deep breath, I scooted to the door and closed my eyes, trying to prepare for whatever waited for me.

The sun shined and blinded me a second from the dark interior. I blinked, and like a dream, the guys parted, and there she was—like a miracle, more done up than I’d ever seen. She was stunning.

My heart pounded like a freight train, and my muscles ached to run to her. She wrung her hands and chewed on her pink, glossy lips.

“Wow,” I breathed.

I looked her up and down, from the full, black, silky skirt to the pale strip of skin bared between the skirt waist and the white tuxedo-like top that looked like it got cut right under her chest. And her eyes—I never wanted to look away. They shined like emeralds hidden in the smoky shadow of her makeup.

“Hi,” she greeted, taking a hesitant step forward.

Her eyes glossed over, and she looked away when I didn’t move. Ungluing my feet from the pavement, I closed the gap but stuffed my hands into my pockets to keep from gripping her to me.

“What are y—” I tried to ask but choked off.

“I said I’d be here.”

“Nova, you don’t have to—”

Her eyes shot up with determination. “I don’t want to miss another moment of you achieving your dream. I don’t want to miss another moment of you.”

“Nova…” I blinked, trying to process what it all meant—trying to adjust from the other side of the pendulum I’d been on in the limo.

“Dammit,” she hissed. “I didn’t plan how much I’d want to run into your arms. I just wanted to be here.”

She blinked back her tears and gave a hesitant smile, and it hit me. I’d let go of the pendulum and landed on my feet with her in front of me. The words sank in, and I smiled back.

“Fuck it,” she muttered.

It was the only warning I got before she closed the last foot and threw her arms around my neck. I caught her and buried my face into her soft hair, inhaling as deep as I could to make up for every second I hadn’t been able to have her. I held her to me like I wanted to make us one, and she could never leave again.

“I’m so sorry, Parker. So, so, so sorry.”

“Me too.”

“Guys,” Aspen said. “Why don’t you step over here for some privacy.”

She guided us to a small alcove behind banners and equipment. People still moved about, but it was mostly workers and not anyone chomping at the bit to invade a private moment.

“You’ve got about five minutes before we have to go.”

“Thanks, Aspen,” Nova said.

With a nod, she left us.

We stood still for less than a second, and then my mouth was on hers. My hands re-exploring every inch of skin I could find—desperate for her. Her tongue collided with mine just as needy. Small whimpers escaped, and I seriously calculated our chances of making it to the limo and taking an extra fifteen minutes. We could be late, right?

“I can’t believe you’re here,” I said between kisses.

“I had to be.”

“I called.”

“I know.” She pulled back just enough to meet my eyes but not enough to separate. “I needed to show you. I want to be with you—if you’ll have me.”

I barked a laugh. “Of course, I’ll have you. Fuck, Nova. I’ve wanted you from the second you walked into that apartment, charcoal staining your hands clinging to more art supplies.”

She gave a watery laugh and sniffed before turning serious. “I’m sorry I ran—again. I’m working on it. Rae and Vera so kindly pointed out that I need space to process. I somehow missed it, but seeing it now, I know I can work around it. I can be honest and ask for pockets of time before I just plain vanish. I can promise to always come back and work it out together.”

“Good, because as much as I don’t want to, I can promise I’m going to fuck up. I’m going to need you to stay and remind me I messed up and help me fix it. In return, I can give those moments of space—as long as you always come back to me. And promise to take me with you, even if it’s only in your heart.”

“Parker, there isn’t a moment I haven’t carried you with me,” she admitted. “I got a new tattoo.”

“Yeah?” I asked, confused by the change.

“Yeah.”

She shifted, tugging the edge of her dress shirt up a couple more inches to show thin, elegant script along her ribcage under the soft swell of her breast.

“I carry your heart with me. I carry it in my heart,” I read the words.

“I’ve always thought of that quote when I thought of you,” she admitted.

I stroked my finger along the letters, shuddering right along with her when I grazed her soft skin.

I stood tall and pulled her back in my arms, but before I could lean in for a kiss, she framed my face in her hands. “Parker, I love you. I can’t remember a time I didn’t. And I know I’ve run a lot, but I want to show you that I’m here—I’m all in. I posted my face on Instagram,” she confessed with an edge of panic to her laughter.

“I saw. You looked so happy.”

“Because I was coming to you. I love you,” she said again.

I gripped her hips tight, pulling as much of her against me as I could. “I love you too. I always have. I always will.”

A single tear slid down, and she dabbed it away. “Stupid makeup.”

“You look beautiful no matter what.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Just as we were going back for another kiss, Aspen poked her head around. “Time to go.”

I groaned but pulled back. “Do you want me to get someone to take you to your seat? I should be in soon.”

She shook her head. “I’m walking the red carpet with you.”

“You