Page 16 of Hot Ice, Tennessee

Need a fucking subject change, please.

“Crazy fuck,” Kane said, grabbing the last cherry from the jar and eating it himself.

“He doesn’t seem that crazy to me.”

“Yeah. He’s a good guy, underneath all the…” he paused, waving a hand through the air wildly. “Chaos.”

“What’s chaotic about him?” I asked. “Seems like he wants to have a good time, but it’s not like he was screaming and running naked through the bar.”

“It’s not that Mason can’t control himself,” Kane explained as he wiped down the bar top with a rag. “It’s that he doesn’twantto. He likes living life to its fullest, but he has no off-button. Hecame in last week asking if anyone would govolcano boardingwith him.”

“What the fuck is volcano boarding?”

“Exactly,” Kane said. “He said it involves hiking up active volcanoes and sliding down them on surfboards, or some shit—I don’t know. The guy will do anything, whether it’s jumping out of a plane or throwing a party where everyone has to wear assless chaps.”

I snorted. “Did he actually do that?”

“He has plenty of pictures from his so-called famous assless chaps party,” Kane said. “Ask him about it.”

I felt a smile on my lips. Mason must have had a whole lot of fun at that party.

Kane hoisted a big rack of clean pint glasses in from the back kitchen. “He’s a good guy, though. I mean that,” he continued. “Little lost, ever since his dad died, but good-hearted.”

“When did his dad pass?”

“Must be over a year ago, now,” Kane said. “Mason inherited his ranch, property, horses, and a riding school. Doesn’t seem like he’s taking on many riding clients as much lately, though. Probably makes him sad, though he wouldn’t admit that. He was always a great riding teacher, but now he’s… too focused on other stuff.”

I ran my fingers over a knot in the wood.

I’d been right. On the surface, Mason seemed upbeat, down for anything, and ready to play. But inside, there was a deeper sadness.

“Okay. I need to quit avoiding the frat house,” I told Kane. “I’m out of here.”

Kane nodded. “I’ll be around tomorrow if you’re bored. Just shoot me a text.”

“Night, K,” I told him, shrugging on my leather jacket and heading for the front doors.

A wall of rainy wind hit me in the face the moment I stepped out front. I used the edge of my jacket as a shield, heading over to my car and sliding in.

I popped on some music and drove off. Rain pelted my windshield as I headed down Laurel Ave, the main street in Bestens, pausing for traffic and lights on the narrow cobblestone streets. Once I’d gotten out of the town center and onto the sloping country roads, the traffic cleared.

I’d only been driving for a minute when I saw a figure, hunched on the edge of the road, trudging through mud.

He was holding his arm up to the rain, clearly failing to keep himself protected.

“What the fuck?” I muttered to myself, squinting out.

Who was crazy enough to be walking in this wind and rain? He looked like—

I slowed, put on my hazards, and rolled down my passenger side window.

I did a double-take.

Holy shit.

It was Mason.

Walking on the edge of the road like a goddamn idiot.

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