Page 91 of Best Friends, Tennessee

“Think we’ve been doing that a little too much to call thiscasual, don’t you think?”

I rolled my eyes, tugging on his belt loop. “Who fucking cares?”

“Youdo,” he told me, lifting an eyebrow. “Now are you going to let me go take a piss?”

“Kiss me first.”

“Not going to do it.”

“Wanna fucking bet, Finn?” I told him, reaching to grab his ass with my free hand. “I’ll suck you off in the bathroom stall, right now.”

He bit his lip, keeping calm and composed.

“Nope,” he said simply. “Chill out. Don’t you want to hook up with someone else before you suck me off, anyway? Isn’t this a little too steady for you?”

I wanted to laugh, kiss him, and fight him all at once.

“Can’t tell if you’re a tease or a dickhead,” I said.

He leaned down and kissed my forehead with a little peck. He wrestled my fingers away from his belt loop and stepped back, heading down the hallway.

“Just having some fun, Ori,” he called back.

The bathroom door closed behind him and my heart felt like it was stretching out toward him, reaching and reaching, but not ever settling down.

Bad, bad, bad, I thought.

What the fuck was going on with me?

WhatdidI want?

Usually I would have gotten off on the idea of another guy telling me to “go hook up with someone else.” I loved keeping things open and free, and it always sounded like fun to me.

But it felt different coming from Finn.

Everything felt different with him.

The idea of him hooking up with that woman tonight even pissed me off a little, too. I wanted to go home with him, fuck him senseless, then sit on the couch together, mindlessly watching baking shows with him.

I wanted him to play country music loud in the house, and sing along to it, serenading me.

For fuck’s sake, I even wanted to see him in that dumb cowboy hat.

My heart was tugged in too many directions. How was I so drawn to so many things that didn’t make sense for me?

The saloon. The diner. Bestens. All of Tennessee, really.

And Finn, too.

I went back to the bar, dropped some cash near my seat, and walked out into the night air. I took the long way back to Finn’s house, not knowing if I was ready to head home or not.

I walked in and set my keys down on the little table, looking all around.

All of Finn’s DIY projects. The wood shelves he was slowly putting up against one wall in the living room. The indoor herb garden. The bay window, which he’d been restaining this week.

I thought of my cold, modern little studio apartment back in LA, and howblankit had been in comparison. Hell, I’d barely had anything in my fridge sometimes other than condiments and a bottle of wine.

“Fuckme,” I muttered, leaning against one wall in Finn’s living room, feeling the truth land on me, light as a feather.

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