Page 92 of Best Friends, Tennessee

I liked it here.

Itdidfeel more like home than LA had.

And maybe I wasn’t crazy to feel that way.

An hour later, I padded into Finn’s room, took off my pants, and slid under his sheets. He still wasn’t home yet from the saloon, and I didn’t stop to let myself wonder if it was a bad idea to get in his bed.

I was on autopilot. And it smelled like him, in a way I was hopelessly addicted to, now.

I’d nodded off within ten minutes.

By the time Finn got back some time later, I was out. I only woke when he gently stepped through the doorway.

The nightstand light was still on. Finn looked goddamn angelic in the soft light, walking in and seeing me on the bed.

“Howdy,” he said softly.

“Hey,” I said back, still blinking awake.

“S’ok,” he murmured. “You can stay.”

I breathed deep. “You sure about that? Mr.Keep-it-casual?”

He chuckled. “Just giving you what you want, Ori.”

My heart felt like it was orbiting around in wild circles, like a butterfly flitting around in the sun.

Maybe I do want casual, unless it’s with you.

Or maybe I’m crazy and losing it.

Maybe I just want to be next to you.

A few minutes later he got in bed next to me, and I smelled the minty-fresh scent of his toothpaste.

He reached up to turn off the light and then his arms landed around my body, pulling me in close.

Fuck, it felt too good.

Please don’t stop holding me like this.

“How was the blonde woman?” I murmured, feeling the warmth of Finn’s body pressed against my back and my ass.

“Very nice,” he said. “And very not my type.”

“Doubt it.”

“Didn’t hook up, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“You didn’t?”

“Of course not, Ori,” he murmured.

I paused for a moment, feeling the slow, even rise and fall of his chest on my back as he breathed.

“What’s your type, then?”

He squeezed me harder.

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