Blame It on the Tequila

“I’m so sorry, Parker. So, so, so sorry.”

“Me too.”

“Guys,” Aspen said. “Why don’t you step over here for some privacy.”

She guided us to a small alcove behind banners and equipment. People still moved about, but it was mostly workers and not anyone chomping at the bit to invade a private moment.

“You’ve got about five minutes before we have to go.”

“Thanks, Aspen,” Nova said.

With a nod, she left us.

We stood still for less than a second, and then my mouth was on hers. My hands re-exploring every inch of skin I could find—desperate for her. Her tongue collided with mine just as needy. Small whimpers escaped, and I seriously calculated our chances of making it to the limo and taking an extra fifteen minutes. We could be late, right?

“I can’t believe you’re here,” I said between kisses.

“I had to be.”

“I called.”

“I know.” She pulled back just enough to meet my eyes but not enough to separate. “I needed to show you. I want to be with you—if you’ll have me.”

I barked a laugh. “Of course, I’ll have you. Fuck, Nova. I’ve wanted you from the second you walked into that apartment, charcoal staining your hands clinging to more art supplies.”

She gave a watery laugh and sniffed before turning serious. “I’m sorry I ran—again. I’m working on it. Rae and Vera so kindly pointed out that I need space to process. I somehow missed it, but seeing it now, I know I can work around it. I can be honest and ask for pockets of time before I just plain vanish. I can promise to always come back and work it out together.”

“Good, because as much as I don’t want to, I can promise I’m going to fuck up. I’m going to need you to stay and remind me I messed up and help me fix it. In return, I can give those moments of space—as long as you always come back to me. And promise to take me with you, even if it’s only in your heart.”

“Parker, there isn’t a moment I haven’t carried you with me,” she admitted. “I got a new tattoo.”

“Yeah?” I asked, confused by the change.

“Yeah.”

She shifted, tugging the edge of her dress shirt up a couple more inches to show thin, elegant script along her ribcage under the soft swell of her breast.

“I carry your heart with me. I carry it in my heart,” I read the words.

“I’ve always thought of that quote when I thought of you,” she admitted.

I stroked my finger along the letters, shuddering right along with her when I grazed her soft skin.

I stood tall and pulled her back in my arms, but before I could lean in for a kiss, she framed my face in her hands. “Parker, I love you. I can’t remember a time I didn’t. And I know I’ve run a lot, but I want to show you that I’m here—I’m all in. I posted my face on Instagram,” she confessed with an edge of panic to her laughter.

“I saw. You looked so happy.”

“Because I was coming to you. I love you,” she said again.

I gripped her hips tight, pulling as much of her against me as I could. “I love you too. I always have. I always will.”

A single tear slid down, and she dabbed it away. “Stupid makeup.”

“You look beautiful no matter what.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Just as we were going back for another kiss, Aspen poked her head around. “Time to go.”

I groaned but pulled back. “Do you want me to get someone to take you to your seat? I should be in soon.”

She shook her head. “I’m walking the red carpet with you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

She pulled her shoulders back, her chin held high. “I want to.”

Smiling bigger than I thought possible, I reached my hand for hers, finally filling the gaping hole when she slid hers in mine.

We made it around the corner before she let go. Only because the guys bombarded her and jerked her into their arms.

“Missed me, didn’t you?” Ash muttered so only we could hear.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“Fine, your pussy missed me.”

“Fuck off, asshole,” I grumbled but smiled.

He backed up, his hands held up in surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying I’m here whenever you need me.”

She shook her head and laughed, coming right back to my side, where she stayed the whole length of the carpet.

She fielded all the questions with grace and sarcasm that had me laughing more than any red carpet before. My favorite was when one reporter asked her if she thought it would have hurt if Hank had made it back and started cutting her.

I almost stepped in for such a crass question when Nova put on an over-the-top British accent and answered. “’Tis but a flesh wound. I would have bit his kneecaps off.”