Page 95 of Truth or Tequila (Grand Slam 1)

He pushes me against the wall and leans into me as he takes a hungry kiss.

He pulls his lips back a couple of inches. “I should have told you about my mom.”

“I should have trusted you,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry, Seb.”

He kisses me again—more gently this time—and then pulls me back into a hug. “You never have to apologize to me for anything. Never.”

I nod against his chest.

“Were you Ray Franklin’s source for that story?” he says.

I nod again. “I’m sorry, Seb. I didn’t want your mom to be part of it, but the stuff about Gentry needed to get out.”

“What did I just say?” he says, looking into my eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong. No apologies.”

I rest my head on his chest. “Is your mom okay?”

“My mom’s tough. She’ll be fine. The only thing that’s on her mind right now is meeting this Sophie woman I’ve been telling her so much about.”

“You told your mom about me?” I finally smile. His eyes are starting to light up.

“All about you, including how strong you are.” He lets his hands slide down my arms until he’s holding my hands. “The Randalls are threatening Joe. They suspect he’s the source of the story. I know he gave the information to you.”

“I’ll tell them I was the one who gave it to Ray. I don’t want Joe to lose his job.”

“Absolutely not. Joe will be fine. I’ll make sure of that.” He squeezes my hands. “Promise me you will not talk to them.”

“I promise.” I laugh as he raises his eyebrows. “Really, I promise. I won’t. I’ve already blocked their numbers.”

“Okay.” He puts his arms around me and pulls me tightly to him again. “Tell me if they try to contact you. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. I told you that before. And if they try to ruin your reputation, I will kill them.”

“I’m not even worried about it,” I say, rubbing my cheek against his chest. I’ve missed it so much. “All I’ve been worried about is you and your family.”

“My family is fine—”

“Oh no, speaking of family . . .” I push him back and point to my brothers who are closing in on us like vultures.

“Uh, Soph,” my brother, Luke, yells as he runs up to us with our other brother, Jake, right on his heels, as usual. “Why didn’t you tell us you were friends with Seb Miller?”

They’re both looking up at Seb like they’re seeing the face of God. I push them both in their chests. “Why were you whispering my name during the wedding ceremony like complete lunatics? How old are you?”

They ignore me. Jake taps Luke and points toward Seb’s arms around my waist. “It looks like they’re a little more than friends.”

They both laugh like twelve-year-olds and pulse their eyebrows up and down. I try to hit them again, but Seb pulls me back.

“Seb, these are my idiot big brothers—Dumber and Dumbest.”

“Oh,” Seb says. “So these are the two whose asses I get to kick.”

“Wait, what?” Luke takes a quick step back, almost knocking Jake over.

“Yeah,” Seb says, tightening his arms around me. “I understand that you threw a football at her head when she was five—”

“That has never been proven!” Jake points at me from behind Luke.

“And then you kept throwing stuff at her while you were growing up?”

“Sophie! Why are you telling my idol lies about me?” Luke grabs his chest and tries to act shocked. “You’re just mad because you weren’t born with any athletic talent.”

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