Page 94 of Touchdown, Tennessee
Trusting anyone?
“Oh, they will be. Always good to have good music in the background when you’re on a date with a guy who might fuck up your life, right?”
He gave my cock one more squeeze before pulling away, starting to walk off.
I’m the one who’s supposed to leave.
I’m the one who’s meant to cut things off.
“Text me the info.”
“I’ll text you a picture of something else,” he said, turning back to waggle his eyebrows at me. “But I’m not pretending I’m not falling for you anymore.”
Fuck.
Shit.
I was so fucking screwed.
I looked in the mirror, adjusting the tie on my suit.
My hands were shaking, just a little.
My hands didn’t shake when I got in fights, in the past. They didn’t shake when I saw a man die in front of me. They didn’t shakeever.
But going on a date with Peachel was making every single one of my trust issues crowd around me like they were members of a rioting mob, laughing at me,certainthat I was making the wrong decision.
“It’s good,” Grandma Bet said from across the room, not even looking over at me anymore. “It’s been good since the first, second, and tenth times you looked at it. Quit changing the tie.”
I’d gone back and forth between a pale blue one and a dark, oxblood red one so many times that I was starting to forget how to even tie a tie.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be invited to a formal party alongside dozens of college athletes, but…
My life had been changing a lot since Andrew had come into it.
“Fine.”
“Which one are you wearing now?” she hollered over from down the hall.
“The blue one.”
“Then that’s the one you should go with. Done.”
This was why I didn’t go to events like this in the first place. It was a waste of time. Waste of brainpower.
“So many better things I could be doing with my time,” I said under my breath, taking in a lungful of air.
My phone dinged and I glanced down at it. I had a message from Andrew.
I swiped it open and saw a photo he’d sent.
It was a picture of him in his suit, smiling at the camera. The picture was taken at an angle from slightly lower than him, and instantly it only made me think of him towering over me.
Fucking hot.
Fine.
Maybe these events are good for one thing.
