Blame It on the Tequila - Page 37

I almost crushed the phone in my death grip, barely reminding myself it was my only connection to Nova before relaxing my fist.

Knocking on the window jolted my whole body, almost making my heart stop. It was already so overworked with anger, I didn’t need fear added on top of that.

Oren smiled and waved through the glass.

“You scared the fuck out of me,” I grumbled, getting out.

“I know. You jumped like a solid foot. Very impressive for a tight space.”

“What the fuck?” I asked.

“We have some shit to do, then we head off and enjoy our night.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled.

“Did you find Nova?”

“No.”

“Bummer, bro.” We walked two more steps. “I’m assuming she has reason to be upset about you kissing Sonia?”

“I didn’t kiss Sonia. She fucking bombarded me.”

“Yeah, she’s a little crazy. It’s kind of hot.”

“Not really.”

“You think if I let her know I’m into it, she’ll let me fuck her?”

A laugh broke free because Oren said the most random shit that always caught me off guard. I kind of loved it.

“Maybe, man,” I said, patting his back.

“Sweet. Let’s do this promo shit and then head out.”

By the time we finished, I’d figured out the bar Nova was at. I’d had to dig deep in my memories, but a weird-ass painting of a bearded lady caught my eye, and I knew just where they were. I didn’t have faith she’d be there, but I had to try. Taking security with me, I had them go in and look, only to come out with a rueful head shake.

Ten minutes after we left, another message came through.

Unknown: Nice try, fuck boy.

I didn’t recognize the number, but I wasn’t likely to forget the woman who gave me the nickname. I hit save and kept the name under Crazy Bitch, never knowing when I’d need it again.

Knowing I wouldn’t get through, I hit Nova’s name. It rang four times, and I held my breath for each one like maybe—just maybe—she’d pick up. Each ring had my anger rising. I’d spent the last hour thinking over the situation, and while it played out in the worst way possible, all she had to do was stay.

All she had to do was fucking stay.

She never stayed.

Her voicemail came on just in time to get the peak of my anger.

“You know, Nova, I shouldn’t be surprised, but here I am. Because it’s what you do. You always run. When it’s hard, you fucking run like a coward. When are you going to actually face your shit? It’s been five years, but have you actually grown at all, or are you just pretending?” As soon as the words left my mouth, the regret wrapped itself around my throat. All of it was true, but I could have called her out more softly. Taking a deep breath, I closed out the message with a promise. “You may run like you always do, but I’m not letting you go this time. I don’t care what it takes, I’m finding you.”

Ten

Nova

I was a fucking idiot. A stupid fool.

That thought ran on repeat the past few days. What a way to start the new year. I just couldn’t help but remember the way I’d gushed with Rae and Vera, all giddy and full of hope, concocting stories that hadn’t seemed so far-fetched at the time.

I’d been so dumb.

Days later, and my chest still hurt, and I rubbed at the lingering ache behind my ribs.

“I know you’re not thinking about it,” Rae cut into my thoughts.

“Huh?” I asked, distracted.

She gave me a look that hit me like a verbal smackdown of a reprimand. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“It’s hard to not feel like a fool and que—”

“We feel like a fool for no man. Ever. He’s the fool for lying. He’s the fool for missing out.”

“But I shouldn’t have just shown up like that. What was I thinking?”

“You were thinking you were a blazing hot catch, and he’d be lucky for you to show up. Especially when he’d been asking to see you. It’s not far-fetched. All you did was take away his chance to lie his way out of it.”

I smacked my head against the back of the car seat. I was on my way to my interview, and Rae had said she would have her driver take me because ‘no one should ride the subway on the way to an important interview.’ I’d honestly been sleeping so poorly, I couldn’t even argue.

“Now, put on your boss-bitch face and show this secret band that they’d be lucky to have you.”

Another groan when I thought over Aiken’s phone call about my interview. He’d set it up to be double-blind, so no one knew who the other was, protecting identities. I didn’t want to shove my identity out in the world just yet, and apparently, the band didn’t want to share the news that they needed help writing music.

Tags: Fiona Cole Romance
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