Page 99 of Touchdown, Tennessee

“I’m never going to be able to say no to this, am I?” I asked, a nervous flutter settling in my heart.

When I looked at his eyes and saw him smile, just slightly, I knew I was fucking done for.

“You’re mine for tonight, Peach,” Gray said, reaching out a hand. “Luke’s orders. Let’s get on that stage.”

Two minutes later, Gray had chatted with the band members and deduced that they all knew how to play ‘My Way.’

I had a microphone in my hand soon after, and when the band was ready to play again, Gray took control of the stage.

No.

Took controlwas an understatement.

Something transformed in him, the moment he was up there.

This was Gray Gilman, the shrewd, smart, tough as fuckingnailsreporter from the paper who would usually rather sit on the sidelines than draw attention to himself.

This was a man who could ruin you with one look. One touch.

Who usually kept to himself completely, and certainly wasn’t a slut for public recognition like I was.

But when he had a microphone, a stage, and a gorgeous suit on, he fuckingbecamea young Frank Sinatra, commanding the attention of the ballroom.

“Good evening to all you beautiful people of Tennessee. Athletes, friends and family. Tonight I have for you a very special rendition of one of my favorite songs with one of my favorite people. Put your hands together forAndrew Peachelof the TNU Tempests.”

I waved. People all around the ballroom looked up, actually stopping their conversations to look up at him, and then at me.

My heart was beating hard in my chest.

I played football in front of big crowds all the time, butsinging?

“Fire it up,” Gray told the band.

It was one of the only songs I actually knew all of the words to. My parents had played a lot of Sinatra growing up.

I’d always liked this one.

Being a gay football player meant that you were, by default, doing things yourownway.

I took the first verse, singing the best I could.

But when Gray took over for the second verse, I forgot all of my nervous embarrassment.

My jaw dropped when I heard him sing.

He was better than good. He was a truesinger, crooning it perfectly, and hitting every note.

Every day, I like this man more.

As we moved into the final part of the song, I defaulted to backup vocals. Gray absolutely fuckingnailedthe ending, and the ballroom erupted into applause.

By the time we were walking off of the stage and the band started playing their usual songs again, I felt like I was floating somewhere above myself.

It’s not just a passing thing.

I’m falling in love with him.

I’m fucking falling in love with him, already.