Blame it on the Tequila

by Fiona Cole

  “Whatever. It will be great. You’ll be great,” Vera encouraged.

  “Let’s toast to it,” Rae suggested.

  She called the waiter over to refill our glasses, and I ended up turning down one of my own, sticking to water.

  “To rock stars and stepbrothers and sharing all the dirty details,” she said pointedly to me.

  Vera and I snorted out a laugh and clinked our glasses together, diving into more details about Rae’s new boyfriend and trying to find out how Austin felt about it.

  And I thought I was evasive.

  PARKER

  Supernova: Hey.

  I looked down at the phone and smiled. We’d just got back to our hotel room after the show, and we all bounced around on cloud nine. A message from Nova was icing on the cake.

  “Aww, look at him, smiling like a cute, lovesick puppy,” Oren baby-talked.

  “Ha. Ha,” I deadpanned, flipping him off.

  “You coming out with us tonight?” Ash asked.

  “Nah. I’m staying in.”

  “To talk to his girlfriend,” Brogan said.

  “She’s not my girlfriend.” We never made it that far before things always fell apart.

  “C’mon, we need to celebrate. Freaking New Year’s Eve in New York. It’s huge,” Ash tried to convince me.

  The news hit me all over again, stealing the air from my lungs just like it had when Aspen told us earlier. “I still can’t believe it.”

  “So, let’s celebrate.”

  “Not tonight, bro. I may try to take this high and write some music.”

  “Ugh. Fine,” he finally accepted. “Lifting tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, I’ll see you in the AM.”

  Ash and I both got into lifting weights when we could. It started for vanity, but we quickly became addicted to the activity.

  Waving the guys’ catcalls off, I shut myself in my room and pulled out my phone. Before I could respond, it rang in my hands—Aspen’s name showing up.

  “Miss us already?” I answered.

  “Hardly. I wanted to let you know that Sonia will be at the New Year’s Eve performance. That way, you can kiss her at midnight.”

  On television for everyone to see? No. I wanted to be remembered for my performance that closed out the year, not who I made out with.

  And I sure as hell didn’t want Nova to see. We spoke on and off for the last two weeks, and I knew I was winning her over to finally meet me at some point, but if she thought I was seeing someone, I knew she’d pull back hard. Not that she’d admit it, but I knew her well enough to hear the flirting every now and then. Besides, I wasn’t sure we would know how to be around each other as anything other than what we were.

  “No,” I answered simply.

  “What?”

  “I said, no. I’m not making out with Sonia at midnight after a huge performance.”

  “Uh, yes, you will. You guys are performing your latest song. It will be perfect. Fast paced and about being in love. The fans will love it.”

  “Maybe the fans will love the music without a lie shoved in their face after.”

  “Parker,” she argued, her patience running thin. “Don’t fight me on this.”

  “Listen, this started as a convenience, but now I’m starting to feel like a show pony.”

  “Well, you’re a show pony who signed a contract to uphold a number of interactions, and you haven’t fulfilled them.”

  “Aspen, c’mon. I’m a musician. Let me be one.”

  “You’re a musician who’s managed by your label, and this is part of it.”

  “No,” I said again.

  “Parker, this is happening. Accept it.” And with that, she hung up.

  I fell back on the bed and ran my hand over my eyes, digging in to relieve some pressure.

  My phone vibrated again, and I formulated a snarky response before I lifted it to find another message from Nova instead of Aspen.

  Supernova: I know it’s late, but I wanted to let you know I saw you on that talk show last night. You guys looked good.

  The tension drained out of me, like it had every time we talked. Not that it was often, but the few times were enough that I could breathe—almost enough to maybe try writing again.

  Me: I always look good.

  Supernova: *eye roll* you’re so full of yourself.

  Supernova: How was your hike?

  Me: Good. Short. Ash came with me.

  Supernova: Sometimes, a short one is all you need.

  Me: Really? I heard nice and long is what most women prefer.

  Supernova: Still the same perverted jokes as before. Some things never change.

  Me: I blame the rest of the guys. So immature.

  Supernova: I bet.

  Supernova: So, do you have any pics of the hike? I’m curious.

  I scrolled my phone for the picture of the waterfall descending the jagged rocks and the one of the misty forest and fading greenery. To see if she’d mention it, I added the one Ash took with the waterfall behind me. We didn’t always have time for much, but we all enjoyed hiking when we got the chance, exploring all the different locations on tour. I’d been so stressed with the tour and the looming album, I pushed it to the side until Nova recommended a few trails.

  Supernova: Beautiful.

  Me: I know I am.

  Supernova: *eye roll*

  Me: You know you love it.

  Me: Your turn. Send me a picture.

  She sent a few of the forest canopy, the reds bleeding to orange and yellow. She sent me her own waterfall. She sent me one of craggy rocks falling off into the abyss. None of them were what I wanted.

  Me: Show me one of you.

  A moment later, a photo of her standing on a cliff, her back to the camera, looking out at the mountain peaks popping through the thick covering of clouds. My lids slid closed, and I imagined I was there behind her taking the picture. I’d have taken it and then wrapped my arms around her to stare out at the beauty beyond, her long fiery hair whipping around us.

  The image settled deep in my bones, but it wasn’t the one I wanted.

  Rock Star: Not an Instagram one. I want to see you.

  I held my breath, watching the bubbles appear and disappear, only to reappear again. Finally, when I was sure I’d pass out, a picture came through.

  Her over-exaggerated smile hit me so hard, I couldn’t help but laugh. Her dimples showed up in full force. Her full lips stretched over her perfectly white teeth. Small specks of freckles I knew by heart covered the bridge of her nose. The only thing missing was her grass-green eyes hidden behind her lids squeezed tight. Strands of her hair hung from the messy bun piled on top of her head. My fingers twitched around the phone, wanting to reach out and brush them back behind her ears.

  God, she was stunning, and each second of not being able to actually see her only served to make me want her more—to touch her and be with her more than just through a speaker.

  I tapped her name and hit the camera.

  On the third ring, she finally picked up. The same girl in the photo smiling back through the phone.

  “Aww, you took a selfie just for me.”

  “I don’t have a ton of photos of myself on my phone,” she explained, a perfect blush staining her cheeks.

  “What kind of tea are you drinking?”

  “How do you know it’s not coffee?”

  I gave her a deadpanned stare. “Because you’d never sleep if you drank coffee this late.”

  “Peppermint,” she admitted softly.

  “Your favorite.”

  Silence filled the line, and I hoped she was remembering how much I knew her, remembering how close we’d been. Maybe if she remembered that enough, she’d forget the worst part and give in to seeing me.

  “Guess where I’m going to be next month?” I asked, my excitement bringing me to the edge of my seat.

  “Where?” she asked equally excited. “London? Paris? Timbuktu?”

  I laughed at her
suggestions. “No. New York,” I exclaimed. “We’re playing the last two songs of the year on New Year’s Eve.”

  “Holy shit,” she breathed, her hand covering her mouth.

  “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

  “Parker, that’s amazing.” Her face split into the smile I knew better than my own, her dimples digging deep. The green of her eyes sparked with the same joy that shot its way through me every time I thought about playing at Times Square.

  “Right? We’re so fucking pumped.”

  “It’s not even me, and I’m pumped for you.”

  Something shifted in my chest, a piece sliding into place I hadn’t known was missing. The band had a lot of success, and we’d always shared it with each other, but I couldn’t deny how my mind had always gone to Nova, how I’d already reached for the phone to call her. I missed sharing our wins with someone outside of the band who supported me wholeheartedly. That need immediately got followed by the crashing reminder of how she cut me out of her life.

  So, I’d taught myself to block out that need to reach for her. Apparently, blocking it wasn’t the same as getting rid of it completely because, like it’d been lying in wait, the joy of sharing with her filled me to bursting.

  “I miss you,” I whispered, scared that if I said it too loud, it would scare her off.

  She dropped her face, hiding like always, but I still said it. I missed her more and more with each day. Hell, I’d been missing her each day and not even realizing it until I saw her again. So fucking much that it grew like a drop of blood in water, changing something in me I hadn’t known could be changed.

  Every day I still looked for her. Every show, I wondered if she’d surprise me and be out in the crowd. Every redhead sent a spark of electricity through me, only to be doused out before the fire could begin.

  I’d told her before I missed her in passing—as a joke—and she’d shut down. But this time, when she looked up, something else happened.

  Maybe something was changing in her too.

  “I miss you, too.”

  Maybe this was my chance to get her to agree to see me. Maybe…

  I opened my mouth.

  “Don’t ask,” she said, cutting me off before I could get the words out.

  “Nova, I—”

  “Sing for me,” she demanded.

  The words I wanted to say fell on an exhale rather than floating through the lines to convince her.

  “Please.”

  How could I say no?

  I couldn’t.

  I sat up and propped my phone against the lamp on the nightstand, grabbing the acoustic I always had with me.

  “Any requests, my lady?”

  She pretended to think on it, tapping her pursed lips before shrugging. “Surprise me.”

  Part of me wanted to pick a song I knew held meaning for us, but instead, I opted for a tune that had been whispering in the back of my mind since I saw her again. Unfortunately, no lyrics came with it. Maybe part of me hoped she would hear it and, just like before, she’d come up with the words I needed.

  I strummed the chords, occasionally closing my eyes, searching for the words that lingered just beyond the fog. But as soon as I looked for them, they faded. So, I opened my eyes again and watched her watch me with her cup of tea clutched between her palms. She sat back against her couch, a small kitchen behind her. The green eyes I missed in the photo shining bright with a smile.

  When one song ended, she demanded another until I played her her own private mini-concert. I played a rendition of Baby Got Back, which she danced to while still sitting on her couch, laughing at me dancing with her.

  The night was perfect.

  Just like we’d once been.

  But just like before—we never got quite far enough to keep it perfect.

  I should have known better.

  Eight

  Nova

  “Nervous?” Vera asked.

  “Yeah,” I answered honestly. Nervous didn’t even begin to cover the jittery edge I barely balanced on. I took another sip of champagne, looking over the crowd of people mingling throughout the room.

  Rae got us into an elaborate party in the heart of Times Square—a perfect place to enjoy the night minus all the crazy crowds.

  Everyone sparkled in their New Year’s Eve regalia, laughing and drinking, ready to start a new year with a clean slate. Platters of champagne and hors d’oeuvres made circles around the room as everyone talked about resolutions and future plans.

  And I was one of them.

  I didn’t usually get into the whole fresh start belief. January first was just another day, exactly like the one before. Except, this time, it wasn’t. This time, January first would mark the first time I’d see Parker Callahan. Maybe even start the beginning of something more.

  No parents trying to force us into the stepbrother-stepsister roles. No one telling us we’re wrong. No more stolen nights and forbidden touches. No hiding away or denying what we felt. No holding back.

  No, at midnight tonight, I really would feel like a new woman. Hopefully, in the arms of the man, I’d always wanted.

  I’d concocted the plan around two in the morning after he serenaded me. Watching him sing, even over the computer, brought forth more feelings than I’d realized were still there. I’d avoided talking to him because I didn’t want to be hurt again, but after talking to Rae and Vera, I wanted to at least try. I didn’t want to be scared forever. So, staring up at my ceiling, trying to track the fan whirring in circles in the dark, I came up with a plan to surprise him.

  I’d messaged Aiken right then and there, asking him if he was able to get me a pass to Times Square on New Year’s Eve. I played up the business aspect and how I could take pictures and post them to my Instagram. Maybe even go live at midnight or something. I think I would have promised almost anything in that moment of heart-thumping planning. I’d fully been in the moment of making that wild idea come to fruition and ignoring any doubts.

  Aiken might have been more excited about the idea than me. Probably focusing on that percent of profits he had in his contract. It took him a while, but he got the passes.

  In that time, Parker and I talked on and off over the last month, busy with holidays and work. Mostly we texted, but there were times we Facetimed, and he always sang for me. Sometimes, I’d even dig out my paints, and if I closed my eyes and thought hard enough, I could imagine it was just like when we were teens.

  I considered telling him what I was going to do about a million times, but I’d been riding too high on the thought of his face when I appeared to let it play out any differently than I imagined it. I’d been too high for any of the downfalls of my plan to reach me.

  They reached me now.

  “Did you tell him you’re coming?” Rae asked.

  “No, I wanted to surprise him.”

  Their reactions couldn’t have been different, and I wanted to block Vera’s raised brows and wide eyes from my mind. Instead, I focused on Rae as she clapped her hands, bouncing on her stiletto heels, her champagne jumpsuit sparkling under the dim, soft lighting. She might as well have heart eyes, and that was the positivity I needed right then.

  “Are you sure that was a good idea?” Vera asked, not willing to be ignored. Usually, I was the voice of reason, but reason-be-damned.

  “Well, I can’t do much about it now,” I said, laughing nervously.

  “You could message him?” she suggested. “I’m just worried that maybe he might have someone with him—”

  “He’s single,” I cut in. He admitted it himself. He wouldn’t have anyone with him.

  “But maybe he has plans, and we’ll miss him.”

  “Don’t ruin this moment, Vera,” Rae reprimanded.

  “Then we miss him. I just…I just want to try,” I said, almost pleading with her to understand.

  “I know, I know. I’m excited for you. I promise. I just have to say it. I know excitement can act like blinders, and I wanted to be a voice of
reason. If you’re committed to this, then I’m here for you.”

  “I can be the voice of reason,” Rae pouted.

  Vera and I both laughed, quickly followed by Rae joining us.

  “Maybe he’ll kiss you at midnight,” Vera said, leaving the land of reason and joining us in the land of excited oblivion. She sparkled just as much as Rae, only in a black sequin top.

  “Maybe he’ll fuck you,” Rae said, looking like a kid in a candy shop. I winced but laughed, kind of liking the idea but not wanting to go into details like I knew Rae would. “I mean, I’m assuming that’s why you’re wearing the skirt. Easy access.”

  “Oh, my god. I didn’t wear it for easy access.”

  “Either way, it’s totally hot. And with the Doc Martin’s and his band T-shirt. So sexy.”

  I looked down the bronze sequin skirt with a slit up to my mid-thigh exposing my black boots, and confidence had me standing a little taller. I’d thought about wearing a cute top but thought it’d be cheeky to wear one of his band shirts tucked into the high-waisted skirt.

  “I’m going to go talk to a friend I see over there,” Nico interjected. I blinked, completely forgetting he was standing on the other side of Vera.

  “Can’t handle a little girl talk?” Rae joked.

  “I’ll pass.” He leaned down to press a lingering kiss to Vera’s red lips, uncaring she left some lipstick behind on his. “Behave.”

  “Always.”

  “I was talking to Rae,” he said.

  “Always,” Rae copied Vera.

  We snorted, and Nico shook his head before leaving us girls to gush.

  Vera snagged another trio of glasses from a passing tray, handing one to each of us.

  “Can we get three tequilas brought over? With lime and salt, please,” Rae requested before the waiter could walk away.