Page 22 of Best Friends, Tennessee

But another corner of my mind was being activated, too.

A bad one.

One that saidthis is kind of hot, actually.

Maybe the first really hot thing Finn’s ever told you.

It’s almost a turn-on.

My cock ached.

I was actually getting hard now that I was alone in the guest room, the sound of Finn’s low voice still on repeat in my mind.

Back in the day, I’d never let it affect me when he talked about his sexual escapades.

I’d always just thrown jokes back at him, playing chicken and seeing how many sexual things I could say before he burst out laughing. When we were teenagers it was one of the surefire ways to get him squirming, but he'd enjoyed it just as much as I had.

Fuck it.

Honestly, I’d probably already been at a half-chub before he made the comment, because I’d wanted to come home and jerk off before my run, anyway. He did look good in that blue sweater he was wearing. I was pretty sure I’d seen a guy wearing one like it in a video I watched last night while jerking off, right before another guy ripped it off of him and sucked him off on the rooftop of a building, andJesus Christ, now I was picturing Finn with his cock out on top of a building and I needed to stop.

It felt like every cell in my body was on fire. From my spot up against the door I could hear Finn singing along to a country song in the kitchen, only making things worse.

The thing is, IknewFinn must be a good fuck.

I could tell from the massage videos he posted, and from the practice massages he’d given me back in the day, when we were finishing senior year and he was first toying with the idea of doing massage therapy after high school.

He was good at it. To say the least.

Finn had a natural feel for people’s bodies that was on another level.

So if I really stopped and let myself think about how intuitive he must be when he was with women in bed, or aguyat the inn… it only made sense that I had a natural, human response to it. Purely physical.

He cannot ever know about this, I told myself, gripping my cock and starting to stroke it. I thought about anything and everything but him—mostly trying to focus on my memory of that video I watched last night.

I knew he’d probably get some deep satisfaction in knowing he could get me alittleturned on.

I wasn’t going to feed his ego like that.

4

FINN

Anyone know how to make friends with your old best friend? Asking for a friend.

“How you doin’, Hot Mess?”

I walked through the tall archway in the entryway of Mason’s house. The place wasn’t quite amansion, but it was only a notch below it—a big, beautiful house with endless natural light, nestled in the trees at the edge of his ranch.

“Tired,” Mason said, giving me a smile. “Ready for a massage, I’ll tell you that much.”

He looked like he always looked—his nickname was Hot Mess for a reason, and that’s because he always kind of looked like a model off-duty mixed with a good ol’ southern boy. He had a good build, but more days than not, he had dark circles under his eyes, shaggy hair, and a permanently sleepy look.

“How’s Chomp doing after his spa day yesterday?”

“Never seen a happier horse in my life,” Mason said. “I swore he smiled at me when I went out at noon.”

“I’d believe it. Chomp’s a smart cookie.”

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