Page 83 of Best Friends, Tennessee

>>Ori: You have names for them, don’t you?

>>Finn: One of them may or may not be named after The Rock.

>>Ori: He a pro fighter-turned-actor?

>>Finn: The squirrel just has a thick neck. What can I say?

>>Ori: You are one-of-a-kind. Also, your bed is outrageously comfortable. It’s mine now. Enjoy the guest room.

I was grinning like an idiot now.

>>Finn: Like hell. I’ll share, but I won’t give it up.

>>Ori: Fine. I’ll share.

I almost jumped as Mason swung open the front door, startling me from my trance.

“Look at you,” Mason said the moment he saw me, giving me a once-over. “Nice hickeys.”

I felt my cheeks heat a little as I walked into his entryway. Nobody else had mentioned them today, but then again, nobody else was going to be as blunt as Mason.

“How do you know that’s what they are?” I joked. “I could have gotten in a fight where someone only specifically targeted my neck.”

He snorted. “Yeah. More like a fight where a sexy cowboy-chaser woman attacks you with her mouth. Nice work, Finn.”

Not exactly a woman.“Thanks. How’s your lower back doing?”

“It’s not great today, actually,” he said. “It’s going to need the Finn Hammer.”

“I can probably get it to a better spot, but it won’t be perfect if it’s clenching up. Mind if I set up to film a video?”

“By all means,” Mason said as we walked into his living room. “I like being featured in your videos.”

“Ever since that one commenter who said your hair looked cute,” I mentioned.

“Bingo. Sounds good. I’ll help you carry in the stuff.”

In another couple of minutes we had the camera rolling and the massage table all laid out. I never recorded our voices during the video sessions—later on, I recorded narration for the massages, talking all about the specific techniques I used on different areas of the body.

Mason took advantage of that more than usual today, telling me all about a guy who’d been stringing him along.

“It’s hell on Earth,” he murmured through the hole in the massage table. “I thought he seemed promising, but yesterday he accidentally sent me a dick pic meant for someone else.”

“How do you know it wasn’t for you?” I asked as I gently started to press along his iliac crest, right above his right hip.

“He hadFor Garywritten above his cock in permanent marker.”

“Oh, God,” I said. “That really is brutal.”

Mason pulled in a slow breath, easing into the pressure I was putting on his lower back.

“I’m telling you, Finn, I’m done being a hot mess,” he said. He sounded more earnest than usual, in a rare moment ofvulnerability. “I already don’t take on half as many riding clients as I should.”

I’d been silently thinking the same thing for months. Mason always took great care of his horses and his property, but I knew he wasn’t giving a fraction of the amount of lessons his dad used to. They’d always had money, but his dad kept the business rolling, giving lessons every day of the week.

I’d be surprised if Mason even gave a riding lessontwicein one week, these days. He cared deeply, but I knew he didn’t feel the same teaching without his father by his side.

“You’ll get back to it,” I told him, and I believed it fully. “It’s okay not to take on as much as you used to, but one day soon, you’ll get your mojo back.”

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