Page 82 of Touchdown, Tennessee

He was standing there on his own, lazily holding a pool cue in his hand. Various other members of the Tempests team were scattered throughout the bar.

He was wearing a white T-shirt that clung to his biceps like a glove.

One look at his body and it was like we’d never spent a moment away from each other.

I wanted to pounce on him.

Remind him who he belonged to.

Chill the fuck out, Gilman.

“Your text saidrescue me, and you’re in a crowded bar,” I said, looking all around the Hard Spot. “Of course I came.”

“I have a secret to admit,” he said. “I didn’t necessarily need to be rescued. Things are fine here.”

“I figured.”

His gaze softened. “I just really wanted to see you.”

“I know, Peach.”

Fuck.

Keep it physical.

Don’t trust this.

That thing my heart was doing around him hadn’t stopped.

And Ineeded itto stop.

His rosy cheeks were going to be the death of me.

“And you still came even though you hate bars. And you hateme.”

“This one’s fine. As far as bars go.”

His eyes were smoldering. I let my gaze linger lower, trailing down toward his arm. Even his forearms looked strong, the muscle hard under his golden skin.

Hisneck, too.

I liked the way it looked. I liked the way he moaned when I touched him there, too.

Fuck.

“You know, I really thought I hated you too,” he said, his eyes looking me up and down. “I don’t anymore. Do you have any idea how sexy you are?”

I glanced around the bar.

Peachel was saying all of this even when his boys were nearly within earshot? He really did have something to prove with me. Or maybe he was just doing this because of the alcohol running through his system.

I felt the walls going up again inside me.

Brick by brick.

“Why don’t you date people at TNU, Gilman?” he asked.

“Told you already. I’m here to study, not to get distracted.”