Blame It on the Tequila - Page 81

Parker looked away, and I did my best to erase the last ten seconds from my memory.

“That was two years ago,” he ground out.

“And look how well it’s working. You don’t get to stop now. So, show up and give every girl a face to imagine is them. So when you release the album, they buy it so they can imagine it’s you singing to them.”

“I just—” Parker paced away, dragging his fist through his hair.

“Everyone wants to believe the song is about them, Parker. They want to be the girl.”

“What if we wrote a song about foot fungus and Daddy fetishes?” Oren asked.

“Even that one,” she answered over her shoulder.

“But that one would be especially for you.”

Aspen held up her middle finger over her shoulder before shifting to look at me. “Sorry, Nova. It’s just business,” she said, erasing any doubt of her knowing if Parker and I were together. She knew and apparently, didn’t care.

I stood half a foot taller than her, and I assumed it would help me glare at her from a superior height, but when she walked past, I stumbled out of the way like her boss-bitch aura took up a hell of a lot more space than she did. Rae would be ashamed of how intimidated I was by this tiny powerhouse.

Before she opened the door, she turned back. “Sonia will be there at seven. Make sure to bring a flower or something sweet. Maybe a red one like you mentioned in your last album. Also,” she narrowed her eyes. “Don’t turn your cheek or shove her away this time when she goes for the kiss.”

She didn’t bother to wait to hear his rebuttal, and I really didn’t want to hear it either.

“I should go get settled,” I said, trying to slip away.

“Nova,” Parker called. “You come with me.”

“What?” I shrieked.

“Yeah. You be my date.”

He might as well have suggested I go to the event just to bitch-slap Sonia. “That’s a horrible idea. Could you imagine the headlines? The other redhead. The Homewrecker.”

He screwed up his face like I was being absurd. “They wouldn’t say that.”

I gave him a deadpan stare because we both knew that’s exactly how it would go. Parker and Sonia hadn’t even been spotted together since New Year’s Eve, and articles speculated about marriage announcements every week.

He threw his arms wide. “Who cares if they do? If we’re together, then we’ll face it. I won’t have to go on a date with her, and we get to be together.”

“I care, Parker. It’s so easy for you. They’d probably high-five you, but I’m doing this job so I can control the narrative for my business. Something like that would tarnish my reputation.”

He shook his head but couldn’t argue it.

“Listen,” I said, softening my tone. “I want to go, okay? I hate the idea of you with her but showing up when another woman is expecting you. I may as well show up naked with a scarlet A painted on my chest.”

“When will you be ready to put yourself out there? To be by my side?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

“I-I don’t know,” I stammered, unprepared for him to turn this into me not doing it for him—for us. “I’m trying to find the right time to make it happen.”

“There’s plenty of times. Just take a selfie and post it. Done. We can take one together, right now,” he offered sarcastically.

I stood my ground. “I’m not rushing this for you.”

“So, we should just keep fooling around at night until holding hands in daylight fits your schedule?”

“That’s not what this is,” I snapped.

“Then what is it?”

Here we stood on the edge. Fall forward into new territory or fall back?

“Parker,” I whispered, pleading with him to understand my position. Hating that we stood on opposite sides, unwilling to yield.

For once, I didn’t want to yield for him. Maybe I wanted him to go the extra mile for me.

“I can’t get out of this without burning bridges, Nova. It’s my job.”

It always was. I’d just hoped it wouldn’t always be that way. Maybe I was wrong. “I understand. You do what you need to.”

Baring his teeth, he crowded me against the wall out of sight of the guys. “Tell me it won’t bother you that she’s on my arm.”

Swallowing, I looked away. “You know it will.”

“What if I have to kiss her? For every single photo,” he murmured against my cheek, my neck. “Again, and again.”

To add insult to injury, he kissed the thudding pulse under the sensitive skin, and I pressed my head back to the wall, squeezing my eyes shut to hold back the fire trying to break free. But it didn’t help because all I saw was her in his arms on New Year’s Eve.

“I want you,” he confessed.

“I want you too, but I can’t,” I said, adding finality to my words.

Tags: Fiona Cole Romance
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