Page 81 of Touchdown, Tennessee

His football team and frat bros really did drink like it was their goddamned job, didn’t they?

Last week I’d told Andrew I was going to be completely swamped with studying for my exams, and he’d been the respectful little fucking angel he always was. He hadn’t texted me much at all this week, other than telling me “good luck on your test” the day of the first one.

Gray: Use your words. Are you saying you’re drunk, or telling me that I’m a drunk?

Fine. I’ll use my words. Gray Gilman, I’m at the Hard Spot, and I am so fucking drunk, and it’s not even dark outside yet. Rescue me? I fucking miss you.

Something strange settled in my chest.

When was the last time anyone had said theymissedme?

Because I don’t even get close enough to let anyone miss me.

You don’t miss me. You miss the taste of my cock.

It can definitely be both. Oh fuck. The guys just brought me another tequila shot.

You going to take it?

Already did. Why aren’t you here to lick the rest off of my lips?

I let out a slow breath.

My cock was already getting hard reading his texts. Of course I wanted to go. I wanted to make sure he drank water in combination with those shots, but I also wanted… other things.

I felt like I was weighing two options in my mind.

Spending the past weeks away from Andrew, one thought had centered on my mind.

He doesn’t actually want you.

For a while it didn’t matter.

I didn’t want him, either.

I didn’t want anyone at TNU. I didn’t want to date, commit, or get my focus pulled by anything.

But I’d realized with horror that I was actually starting tocareabout that fact. I’d always known it was true that through all of the research I’d done, it was obvious that Andrew Peachel never stayed with one guy for long.

At first, that didn’t matter either.

Why the fuck should I care?

The man liked taking my cock, and he was incredibly good at it. None of this was ever going to matter, long term.

But with each passing day I spent away from Andrew, I thought about those words he’d said, over and over again.

And that was a very bad thing.

I really fucking like you.

So simple. And enough to make me crazy.

Trust issues are a bitch like that.

They make you think you’ll always be hurt, because most of the time, it’s true.

“You came,” Andrew said, turning toward me from the side of the pool table.