Page 38 of Touchdown, Tennessee

In another moment he was close to my face, his vanilla scent filling the air around me again.

He leaned in close.

And I didn’t pull away.

His lips hovered an inch from mine, giving me ample time to stop him before he got any closer.

But then he gently pressed his lips on mine. He kissed me softly, slowly, warmth hitting my skin.

And I still didn’t fucking pull away.

Two thoughts filled every corner of my mind, each of them just as strong.

I hate you.

And God, I fucking need this.

His tongue slid out a moment later, slick and warm and so fucking inviting, another thing I didn’t want to resist. His hands settled at my hips and he gave me a squeeze as he kissed me, slowly and deliberately.

Maybe I really was a slut for attention. Or maybe I just lost my mind when someone was this good of a kisser, and I didn’t stand a chance at refusing something that felt like this.

After a night of feeling so scatterbrained and lost, his touch felt like an anchor back to myself.

When I was overthinking everything, I felt airheaded. But when I just let myself feel something this good… everything seemed to make sense.

Even though it fuckingdidn’tmake sense.

He pulled away right as Luke and Carter’s voices came from the front doors of Student Hall.

I blinked and looked at Gray’s face, his lips still slicked, and his gaze half-lidded and fucking irresistible.

He put his finger on my throat for a moment, dragging his knuckle along the exposed front curve of my neck.

All he did was trace a little line there, with barely any pressure at all. But it felt like he may as well have had me collared. Hypnotized by any little touch he would give me.

He dropped his hand away right as Luke stepped out.

“Peachel, it’s poker time,” Luke said, coming up behind me and clapping me on the back, like he was knocking me back into reality. “Gray, are you out here hounding our boy for information? Here’s something you can write in your article. Andrew Peachel is going to get his ass beat in a poker game, the night after the bake off, and there’s nothing he can do about it.”

“Have fun,” Gray said, giving us an upward nod before heading off across the quad.

CHAPTER 6

GRAY

“Going to make me late, yellow card.”

An old emotion settled in my veins the moment I heard the stranger’s voice, coming from a couple of spots behind me in the cafeteria line.

It wasn’t quite anger. Maybe something close.

A bitter little pit in my stomach.

The cafeteria lady was standing there with my school-issued meal card in one hand, lips pursed as she stared down at the machine and swiped the plastic through the reader for the fifth time.

“System’s acting up with these cards today,” she muttered, tapping her nails on the countertop and pausing to glance over at her phone in the meantime.

My spine felt hot.