Blame It on the Tequila Read Online Fiona Cole

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
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“By combining my art, travel, and writing into a single entity,” I continued the routine answer.

She beamed. “Exactly. So, suck it up, and don’t worry about it tonight. Because tonight, Naughty Nova is coming out to play. Although, I’m sure your followers would love to meet her. You’d probably get sponsored by Patron.”

She was right; I didn’t need to worry about it tonight. Pushing the phone aside, I snatched the shot glass and tossed it back, trying to block out the impending doom of tomorrow morning’s headache. Just as I set the glass down, Lizzo’s Tempo came on.

“Oh, my god. I love this song.”

“Hell yes, you do.” Rae smirked, snatching my purse, knowing damn well what was coming next. “Get it, girl.”

I swayed my way to the dance floor, the lights flashed, spotlighting my every move.

Looking around the large gilded room, I realized we were the only ones still lingering. Staff at the hotel moved from table to table collecting dishes, and yet here we were, enjoying the still dim lights and open bar.

And I planned on enjoying every second of this song.

I pushed my lips out and channeled my inner diva, shaking my ass.

After a spin, I looked up to find Rae holding my phone. The alcohol swam through my veins, the lights swirling, and my hair sticking to the damp nape of my neck.

“Don’t you dare record me, Raelynn,” I said, but it came out breathless and was only enforced with a half-ass arm lifted to block my face. It dropped quickly when I moved my hand to my rolling hips.

“I would never,” she joked, her voice heavy with the lie she didn’t bother to make me believe.

Fuck it. I weighed my options and figured the recording would be blurry at best with how much she moved around with me. I’d delete it later. There was no need to stop enjoying the music.

My limbs tingled, and I laughed as the weightless joy carried me around the floor. I stumbled but recovered quickly, placing both hands on the floor and shaking my ass like a stripper.

Rae catcalled, and I went with it, letting the thud of the bass fuel my movements. I loved music. It was built into my DNA. But having music as part of my life didn’t make me the best dancer. It did give me enough musicality to hit the beats and make it work. With the tequila infusing my confidence, it made up for anything I lacked.

I didn’t drink often, but when I did, I went for the gold. That was when Naughty Nova came out, as Rae called me. I’d earned that title when we’d met in college. After a couple months of always being the designated driver for her and Vera, I cut loose and agreed to an Uber. We did shots of tequila, and I ended up dancing on a table.

And Naughty Nova was born. Or at least named. She’d always been there before, eager to break the chains I kept her in.

Lizzo ended, and Muse’s Pressure blasted from the speakers. I turned to face a smiling Rae next to a wide-eyed Austin. His eyes flicked to my phone screen and back to me, looking like a deer in headlights bracing for impact. Probably just holding his breath, waiting for Rae to drop the phone and start dancing around him. I focused my attention on her, planning to take the phone and shove it aside so she could dance with me.

I rolled my shoulders and gave the camera my most seductive look. Why not? It was getting deleted tomorrow, anyway.

“Oh, yeah. Give it to me, baby,” Rae cheered.

Another shimmy and ass shake.

Then Rae turned the phone to show me the screen, and although the music still played, a record scratched to a halt in my mind as I met the bluest eyes I never thought I’d see looking back at me ever again.

“Damn,” the man on the screen said.

And he was a man. His scruff covering his cheeks, hiding the lines I knew were there when he was clean-shaven. His arm flexed, showing off more tattoos than I remembered, when he pushed back the wavy dirty-blond locks that I knew lightened over the summer when he spent too much time at the pool.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. He was doing an Instagram live and picking fans to go live with him. I at least had to try, and he picked me,” Rae explained, laughing. She moved to stand beside me and put us both on the screen. Her smiling face next to my shell-shocked one. “She’s like your biggest fan, and when I saw you go live, I figured, why not.” She bumped my shoulder. “Can you believe it?”

I couldn’t tell what caused the lights to spin and twist this time, the tequila or the shock. Rae said some more words, but it barely breached the rush of blood blocking out everything—pulsing like I floated in the ocean. His lips moved, but I was too focused on his tongue chasing the words, remembering all the times I’d watched it when he sang.


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