Page 64 of Touchdown, Tennessee

We always joked about finding each other ugly or unattractive, to try to throw others off our trail.

And it was clear Danny felt no remorse for cheating on me.

“How’s Nashville treating you?” I asked him, trying as hard as I could not to show my distaste for him.

“It’s a whole lot of fun. Lot of hot guys.”

God, you are such a fucking asshole. Why was I ever interested in you, again?

“Did you play for the Tempests, too?” Gray asked Danny.

“Never was a football guy myself, despite my dad coaching. Golf is about as athletic as I get. That and bouncing on cock.”

I rolled my eyes.

“That makes three of us, I guess,” Gray said.

“Are you looking to have some fun tonight?” Danny said, eyeing Gray.

“You can’t be serious, bro,” I said. “You’re not propositioning him. He’s writing a paper on the Tempests, not at our frat party to find a hook up.”

Danny was a supreme piece of shit.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

Pissing me off and driving a dagger in me, reminding me how much he’d hurt me but knowing I couldn’t speak a word about it.

“Chill, Peachel,” Danny said. “I won’t take your boy for a ride.”

“I’m not his boy,” Gray said.

Danny just laughed, grabbing a can of beer from the counter before walking back out into the party.

My heart was pounding.

I wanted to get the fuck out of here.

Gray couldn’t find out how much Danny affected me.

“I need some fresh air,” I told Gray.

“Just a sec. I’m going to make myself another drink.”

I sucked in a slow breath, my heart beating in time with the bassy music coming from the main room. I watched Gray mix up his drink, wishing he’d go faster.

“Tell me what you have so far, for the article,” I demanded, the words coming out of nowhere.

He raised one eyebrow. “A little of this, a little of that.”

“You don’t have shit, do you?” I asked. “You have nothing to tell me because youhaveno article yet, do you?”

His eyes widened just for a moment. I watched as he turned back to the makeshift bar in the kitchen, reaching for a bottle of Jack and pouring himself some in a red cup.

“First of all, no matter how drunk I am, I can always handle my liquor,” he said. “And second, I have plenty for my article already, and I’m nowhere near done yet.”

“Then what is it?” I asked.

Fire was rising inside me now.