Release Day Blitz: Touching Down by Nicole Williams
The whole world might be in love with
him. But all he’s ever loved is her.
Grant Turner’s
name is synonymous with football. The fans and media can’t get
enough of the player known as The Invincible Man, a nickname he
earned while growing up in one of the toughest neighborhoods in the
country and the nickname he’s kept by being one of the best players
in professional football today. No one can take him down. He’s
unstoppable.
But even a suit of armor has its weak point,
and Grant’s has always been Ryan Hale.
They were a couple of
kids when they fell in love, and just when it looked like the happy
ending neither expected was within reach, Ryan disappeared. No
explanations. No good-byes.
Grant coped by throwing himself
into the game for seven years, and he’s finally moved on. Or so he
thinks.
When she walks back into his life, all of those
feelings come crashing back, despite the warnings in his head that
tell him she’ll leave him again. Grant can withstand the league’s
toughest defensive line, but he’s always been weak where she’s
concerned.
No man can take Grant Turner down.
But one
woman certainly can.
One woman will.
“How many men after me?” His
forehead creased as he asked his question, setting down his
fork.
His question surprised me. “What?”
“How many
men have you been with since you were with me?”
I swallowed
the bite of onion ring and set down what was left of it. Wolfing down
fried food didn’t pair well with this type of conversation. “Like
how many guys have I dated? Had as boyfriends?” My weight shifted
on the counter stool I was situated on. “Had sex with?”
Grant’s
jaw tensed, but he relaxed it right after. He answered me by lifting
a shoulder.
The longer I took to answer, the more he
looked like he was bracing himself for a full-on dissertation. Little
did he know my answer to his questions could be summed up in one
breath.
“I haven’t had any boyfriends since you,” I
admitted, feeling kind of silly admitting it. At the same time, I
felt strong. I’d never felt the need to fill a void in my life with
a man. I’d never needed a man to define me. What Grant and I had
had was special, and what we’d created together was even more
special. I wasn’t about to let some shmuck looking to get a little
piece of ass cheapen my whole experience with relationships.
The
corners of Grant’s mouth were twitching, but he didn’t let the
smile form. “What about dates?”
I leaned toward him. “Same
story.”
He let the smile form then.
“And I thought
we’d agreed to move on from the dating topic earlier tonight.”
Giving him the look didn’t faze him—it never really had. Even my
most impressive Look.
“Fine. No more talk about dating.” He
lifted his hands in the air and pretended like he was getting back to
finishing up the last few remnants of our gluttonous feast. When he
just kept twirling the same fry in a gob of ketchup, I knew he hadn’t
moved on yet. “How many have you had sex with?”
“Grant .
. .”
“I need to know, Ryan. I know I don’t have any right
to know. I also know you had a right to sleep with whoever you
wanted.” He paused, his face looking like he was being tortured. “I
just need to know.”
My lungs felt like limp bags when I
thought about answering his question. Not because I was embarrassed
or ashamed or anything like that, but because he’d know once I told
him. He’d know the reason why, and he’d know he was that reason
why.
He’d know I’d never really moved on from him, and I
couldn’t have him knowing that because I needed to keep a careful
distance between us. I needed to protect him, not from himself this
time, but from me.
But even though I knew all of that, I also
knew that the truth had never been optional when it came to Grant and
me. Never a choice. The truth wasn’t what we picked when it was
convenient. It had been the standard from the beginning, and if I had
anything to do with it, it would remain the standard to the end.
The
truth. I’d told him almost everything I had to. Almost. The one
last thing I was withholding would have to come out soon.
“You
were the first person I had sex with, Grant Turner.”
He
slowly twisted toward me, his legs spreading wide, tucking around the
outsides of mine. His hands lowered to my kneecaps, like he was
trying to show me that no matter how I answered, he still wanted to
be here with me—eating greasy food in an old diner that had already
locked its doors.
One of my hands covered one of his. “And
you were the last person I had sex with too.” It came out in one
long exhale, my fingers braiding tighter through his with each
word.
He was quiet for a minute. And then another. When his
silence continued, my eyes lifted to see what was the matter.
His
forehead was folded in half a dozen creases, his eyes narrowed in
confusion. “Are you saying . . .?” He leaned in closer, confusion
settling deeper.
“You’re the last person I had sex with.”
I thought I’d spelled it out pretty solidly before.
His face
ironed out, blinking like he was just waking up. “Does that mean .
. .?”
I sighed. “I haven’t had sex in seven years? Yeah.
That’s what it means.”
Glancing behind the counter, I made
sure the owner and cook, who’d generously agreed to let us stay
late, were still way in the back and preoccupied with something other
than the conversation happening at the two end counter stools.
Grant
leaned closer, his head moving just outside of mine. His breath was
just rushed enough to notice. “Are you saying I’m the last man
you’ve had inside you?”
His words surprised me, sending a
shiver winding down my spine. I didn’t want him to know that his
question or his proximity or his labored breaths were affecting me,
but they were. I was feeling very, very affected in certain locations
of my body.
“I think that’s the general definition of sex,
yeah,” I answered, glancing down to make sure nothing too obvious
was showing through the thin material of the dress. Thank god I’d
gone with the thicker lined bra, because Grant’s eyes followed mine
a moment later.
When my gaze dropped to a certain spot on his
body, I found his own arousal not so easily disguised. It made the
inhale I’d been taking sound more like more of a gasp than a
breath. He knew what I was looking at, he knew what was on display,
and he didn’t do anything to adjust or hide it. He wanted me to
know. He wanted me to see.
Realizing that sent a rush of
pleasure through my body, pooling between my legs.
“I’m
going to kiss you, Ryan.” His head nuzzled my neck. “I should
probably ask permission, but fuck, I don’t want to, because I have
to kiss you. Whether you think it’s a good idea or not.”
My
arms went limp, my legs following, from the sickness I had for this
man. The one that crippled me. The one that paralyzed me. My eyes
squeezed closed when his face came around in front of mine. “You
don’t want to kiss me, Grant.”
He pulled me closer. “Like
hell I don’t.”
Nicole Williams is the New York Times
and USATODAY bestselling author of contemporary and young adult
romance, including the Crash and Lost & Found series. Her books
have been published by HarperTeen and Simon & Schuster in both
domestic and foreign markets, while she continues to self-publish
additional titles. She is working on a new YA series with Crown Books
(a division of Random House) as well. She loves romance, from the
sweet to the steamy, and writes stories about characters in search of
their happily even after. She grew up surrounded by books and plans
on writing until the day she dies, even if it’s just for her own
personal enjoyment. She still buys paperbacks because she’s all
nostalgic like that, but her kindle never goes neglected for too
long. When not writing, she spends her time with her husband and
daughter, and whatever time’s left over she’s forced to fit too
many hobbies into too little time.
Nicole is represented by Jane Dystel,
of Dystel and Goderich Literary Agency.
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