Page 12 of Best Friends, Tennessee

I got up out of my seat and swayed my head to the music.

Yeah, the alcohol had definitely given me a little buzz.

“You’re cute when you’re drunk,” Ori said offhandedly, taking a sip of his margarita. “Even if your taste in music sucks.”

“I’ll smack you if you say that again,” I said, pointing at him. “People know Dolly Parton for ‘Jolene,’ but this song? Her best.”

“Which one is this?”

“This is ‘Old Flames.’ My favorite,” I said. I started to sing along to the chorus. “Old flames can't hold a candle to you. No one can light up the night like you do… flickering embers of love, I've known one or two, but old flames can't hold a candle to you.”

Ori was looking at me like he wanted that gun to his head right about now. I didn’t relent, watching him squirm as I sang, tipsy and warm.

“Never heard it,” Ori said.

“I’m no good at singing,” I said, waving my hand through the air.

“Nah. You know your voice is good,” he said before glancing back up at me. “Not that you should let that get to your head.”

“Mmm,” I hummed. “A compliment from Ori? Pigs are fuckin’ flying in heaven tonight.”

He was smiling a little, despite himself. “It’s just…”

“I know. You don’t like anything that sounds tooTennessee.”

He nodded once, shifting in his seat. “This song isn’t half bad, though. I’ll give you that. For aDolly Partonsong.”

I sang along to the second verse, not giving a damn. “You better shut your mouth,” I drawled at Ori, laying it on thick. “You’re the only person from Tennessee who would dare say a bad word about Dolly. Dance with me.”

Ori made a face. “I’m not dancing to country music and you know it.”

“Dance with me,” I said again, holding out my hand.

3

ORI

Old flames? Tennessee feels more like an old inferno, if you ask me, Dolly.

“Hell, no,” I said to Finn’s outstretched hand. Even though he was always kind of sweet when he was buzzed, I wasn’t stepping foot anywhere near that dance floor.

“C’mon,” he said confidently. He gave me thecome heremotion with his fingers.

I was enjoying denying him. “I’m not dancing to any song this old unless I’m at a club and they play Abba.”

Finn stared at me with a look I hadn’t seen from him in years.

I used to call it The Eyes. Sometimes when he was drinking, Finn seemed to think that if he just looked at me a certain way, I would do what he asked. He was used to getting what he wanted. Sometimes it worked on me, but tonight, it wasn’t going to.

“You’re nervous,” Finn said with full confidence.

“Shut up.” I turned away and took a sip of my margarita.

“I know you’re nervous,” he told me. “Come on.”

“Nervous definitely ain’t the word for it,” I said.

A tiny smile appeared on Finn’s face. “Your drawl’s coming back out. That only happens when you’re really tired, or you’refucking nervous.”

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