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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I shook out my hands and took deep breaths, trying to stretch my lungs and release the bands of nerves squeezing them tight.

“You ready?” Parker asked.

“No. Does that mean I don’t have to do it?”

He laughed. “Oh, we’re doing this. You’re amazing. I wouldn’t let you up on that stage if I didn’t think otherwise.”

“You let Oren up there.”

“God himself couldn’t have stopped Oren from owning that stage.”

“This is true.” My laughter died, and I went back to bouncing to expend my energy. “This is the worst. Shit. Shit. What song did you pick?”

“It’s All Coming Back to Me, I know how much you like that song.”

“Damn. I do love me some Meatloaf.”

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to turn him down. And we sang it together that one night, so it’s easy.” He gripped my shoulders and bent his knees, so I was forced to meet his eyes, and everything around us faded. “It’s just you and me. I’m right here with you.”

And just like that, one of the bands snapped loose, making it easier to breathe. It didn’t vanish completely, but staring into his blue eyes, watching the thick wave of his hair fall down from where he kept pushing it back, it lightened.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Okay.”

We climbed the five steps to the stage, and I kept my eyes glued to the worn and scuffed wood instead of the crowd. A ringing vibrated in my ears. Sweat beaded in my hairline under the two spotlights. No wonder the guys always came off stage sweating, it was hot as hell, and we only had two lights focused on us. Parker passed me a microphone, and I thought it would slip from my sweaty palm.

I didn’t think I could do it. I wouldn’t even be able to hear the music over my blood rushing through my veins. But then I heard a screech I’d never forget in this lifetime.

“Supernova,” Oren screamed-slash-sang. “I love you. Have my babies.”

More cheers calling my name broke through the last bit of nerves, and I finally peered up to find the guys right in front of me, their arms up like the best fanboys a girl could ask for.

The music started, and I shifted my focus to Parker. There was no stopping my eyes from going to him. Each note closer to my verse had a lump growing in my throat, but then Parker smiled, and everything eased—at least a little.

Closing my eyes, I imagined I was in my room, doing my art, or in our living room helping the guys create a song—completely normal.

And just like that, the words came. My chest vibrated with the lyrics. I stood taller and sang from somewhere deeper than my lungs. I poured the song out to Parker like I was pouring my soul out to him. His face lit up, and he never looked away—staying with me every second.

Before long, I lost myself to the moment. I even looked out to the crowd, performing just like I’d seen the guys do time and time again. I belted out each note, the euphoria of performing flooding my veins with a bolt of electricity I never saw coming. Every time I considered singing in front of anyone, I shut down. I never thought it would be like this.

This thrilling.

This exciting.

This…everything.

Parker and I harmonized, closing out the song with the last chorus, standing almost chest to chest as we sang together.

I didn’t know what perfection was, but this had to be close.

My body vibrated so hard I was sure I’d explode. The excitement filled to overflowing, and I just wanted to scream.

We descended the steps, and I almost tackled him to the ground with the force of my hug. He caught me and stumbled back. His long arms flexed and held me close. I looked up to find him laughing at my exuberance and froze. Maybe it was the shot of tequila. Maybe it was the joy of discovering such a high. Maybe it was the dancing from earlier. Maybe it was every single moment that led to this one right here.

I lifted to my toes and crushed my mouth to his. The kiss was hard and lacking any finesse, but none of that mattered because my lips were pressed to Parker Callahan’s.

His body stiffened against mine for only a moment but long enough to pour a bucket of water over my burning excitement.

I was kissing Parker Callahan—my stepbrother—in public where anyone could see.

Every obstacle that held me back before now crashed through my haze, and I jerked back.

“Shit. Parker. I-I’m so sorry,” I stuttered.

He blinked, looking down at me like he’d never seen me before.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered again.

He blinked again, and the shock vanished. The next thing I knew, his arms tightened, his hands pressing into my back as he turned us deeper into the darkened corner. The lights and crowd vanished behind him, and all I saw was him.


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