Best Friends, Tennessee (Hard Spot Saloon #1)

5. Ori

5

ORI

You think you know a guy… until you’ve pictured him face-fucking another dude’s mouth about fifty times this week.

I woke up with a start, with only faint moonlight coming in from the window.

I’d heard something. Maybe I’d just dreamed it?

I turned over in bed, seeing that the clock by the table read 2:00 a.m. I closed my eyes, about to sink back into sleep again when I heard the sound again, unmistakable.

“ No, ” Finn was saying, his voice loud and deep. He said it again, clear from his bedroom across the hall. “ Fuck ,” he said a moment later.

Shit. Maybe there was a wolf spider in his room. Finn hated spiders, and I’d always been a little less freaked out by them.

I tossed off the sheets, getting up out of bed and heading across the hallway. The hardwood was cool under my feet. The air in the house still faintly smelled like caramel.

“Finn?” I asked as I gently pushed open his door.

I was surprised to see the light in his room wasn’t on. He wasn’t even awake, actually, I saw as I took a couple of steps into the bedroom.

“Fuck,” I heard him say again, his voice full of fear.

I realized he was deep in a nightmare. I padded across the room, going to his side. I could see the faint outline of him in the dim room—moonlight came through the window, and he always slept with the curtains open.

“Hey,” I said softly, putting my hand on his shoulder. He didn’t wake right away, and his breathing was a little heavy. I shook his body, giving his shoulder a squeeze as I sat down on the edge of the bed beside him. “You’re okay. Wake up, Finn.”

He exhaled as his eyes finally opened, and he reached out to grab my arm on instinct. “Oh my God,” he said, blinking a few times and taking deep breaths. “Holy hell.”

“It’s okay,” I said, rubbing his upper arm. “Just a nightmare. Seems like a bad one.”

He pulled in a long breath, sitting up a little in bed and propping up his pillow behind him.

He looked down for a moment, staring at the bedsheets.

“It was so bad. The, uh… the horses were agitated about something, and they all started running out onto the highway, and I was so worried they were going to get hit—and then I saw Kira there, too, and she ran too far, and I started bawling in the dream. I felt like I had no control, Ori. Fuck.”

Kira was Finn’s beloved childhood cat that had died a little while before he came to stay with our family. He’d always missed her, and had carried around a little picture of her in his wallet forever.

I leaned in and put my arms around him in a hug.

I hadn’t thought twice about it, but after he was in my arms, I realized it was the closest we’d been since… well, since our little fight at the bar.

This felt different, to say the least.

His body was warm. His hair still smelled shampoo-fresh, and he leaned in, returning the hug.

“Thanks, Ori.”

I could tell his heart was still pounding. He seemed so vulnerable in that moment, in a way he never was during regular waking hours. He was shirtless, and I got an eyeful of his hard-earned muscles.

He felt good to hold, if I was being honest.

My cock hardened as Finn stroked his open palm along my back.

Fuck.

It was happening again . I’d been trying to keep my distance from him lately, to avoid any more unwanted hard-ons in his presence.

This time it wasn’t as easy to hide.

I was in thin sweatpants, and if he moved any closer in the hug or turned on a light, he was going to see or feel the very obvious outline of my cock.

My heart raced like a rabbit. Why did he have to feel so good, physically? This was Finn .

We’d always been physical with each other, but I’d never liked it. Not like this.

He let me go soon after, and I was left there weirdly turned on and wondering what the hell was going on with me.

“Do you think you’ll be able to get back to sleep?” I asked softly.

“Maybe in a bit,” he said. “But I need a breather.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. I wasn’t going to be able to sleep again right away either, and Finn seemed like he needed a reset as much as I did.

An idea dawned on me.

“Hey. You got a working fire pit out back?” I asked him.

“Of course I do.”

I almost laughed at how he said it—like anyone would be insane not to have a fire pit outside.

Finn had always been a fan of sitting around a fire.

I stood up, heading toward the door. “Night camp. Let’s go.”

Night camp used to be reserved for the nights that Finn and I were really bored, when he would sleep over at my house during elementary or middle school. All it really meant was that we would grab a big blanket, sleeping bags if it was cold enough, and lie down out back, looking up at the stars.

Usually there was a fire pit. Sometimes there were s’mores.

A few times, when we were older teenagers, we’d stolen a beer or a wine bottle and gotten along great as we passed it back and forth out in the backyard.

As Finn opened up the door to his backyard, my eyes lingered on the shape of his silhouette. He was still shirtless, and his skin caught goosebumps in the night air.

Had he always had dimples at the base of his back?

Off-limits , I tried to tell my cock, willing it to chill the fuck out.

Straight.

And not even your type anyway.

And it’s Finn, for God’s sake.

We stepped outside. The night was humid, and not even too cold to relax on top of the blanket. His backyard was about a hundred times better for Night Camp than my parents’ yard used to be. It was modestly sized but it had a nice, easy downslope that looked toward the red maples, poplar trees and wisteria bushes he’d planted over the years.

Finn grabbed a giant camping blanket and put it next to his fire pit as I got the fire started.

“Can’t believe you even remember how to start a fire after all these years,” he said.

“Come on,” I told him. “Just because I lived in the city doesn’t mean I can’t light a fire.”

“I’m impressed,” Finn said. “Maybe I’ll get you riding horses next.”

I let my eyes focus on the little glowing lights he had placed under some of the bushes in the yard.

Yeah.

Those were a good thing to look at. A nice, welcome distraction from the curve of my best friend’s ass under his shorts.

“I swear I’ve seen more photos of this backyard over the past few years than anything else from you,” I told him. “Now I’m finally actually in it.”

Finn had always texted me periodically with pictures and descriptions of the progress of his trees and flowers, even if we hadn’t talked about much personal stuff in the past few years.

“My country boy oasis, as you called it.”

“Forgot I nicknamed it that.”

“I call it that all the time now,” he said, lying back on the blanket. I took the spot next to him.

I could feel the cool, grassy ground under my back, below the padding of the blanket. The red-orange glow from the fire in the pit was small, but provided enough ambient warmth that made the area feel cozy instead of chilly.

I took a few deep, slow breaths, looking at the night sky.

“This feels good,” I said.

“And you’re not just taking pity on me because of my nightmare?”

I turned to face him on the blanket, propping myself up on one arm. “I feel so sorry for poor, scared little Finn,” I said sarcastically. “No. Of course not. I love it out here. My problem with Bestens was never about the natural landscape.”

The low, quiet sound of faraway frogs and crickets came through the air. It really was like a little oasis—the trees and shrubs lining his property made it seem like his backyard was his own private place, despite the fact that he was on a normal residential street. Finn was quiet for a minute, looking up.

“Bet you didn’t have nights like this out in Los Angeles,” he murmured, seeming to purposely lay on the Southern accent in that moment.

“I definitely didn’t,” I said, being completely honest.

“I was just trying to get you all riled up,” he said, turning to look at me. “I know you probably had way more fun out there. On a night like this you probably would have been at a fancy art gallery afterparty around now, wouldn’t you? Or getting your dick sucked by some rich male model in his hot tub?”

“I did go to a lot of art events,” I said, trying to ignore the way Finn’s voice sounded when he said dick sucked . “I can’t believe how far away that life already feels.”

“Do you miss it?”

I hummed. “Yes and no. Those events felt so important to me. Every time I went to an art gallery opening, I’d stand there sipping wine looking at the front doors the whole time.”

“Why?”

I paused for a moment. “This is going to sound pathetic.”

He grinned. “Juicy details. Tell me.”

“And you can’t make fun of me.”

“Now that I can’t promise you,” Finn said, his eyes lighting up.

I bit back a smile. “Fair enough. That’s never off the table, to be honest.”

Finn stretched out on the blanket. He really was like a human Golden Retriever sometimes—big and noble and in good spirits, almost all of the time.

“So spit it out,” he said. “How’d you act pathetic in LA?”

“Well, at those parties, the whole time, I would just be waiting to see if I spotted any celebrities,” I admitted. “It feels so stupid to say it. But every now and then, they show up, and when I first got to LA it made me feel very important to be in the same room as any major or minor celebrity.”

“I still remember when you texted me saying you were in the same room as that actress from Rosy House Lane .”

I puffed out a laugh. “Don’t make me cringe. I never told you, but I tried to go up to her and strike up a conversation.”

“What did you talk about?”

“I tried to ask what perfume she was wearing, and she answered nicely,” I said. “But then I invited her to the gallery where I worked, and I think she may have mistaken me for trying to hit on her. I wasn’t acting gay enough.”

“Oh, shut up. You were probably more charming than you think,” Finn said. “You’re always charming.”

I gave Finn a little shove, shifting my position on the blanket. “It’s weird to think about.”

He hummed. “I thought you’d be missing LA every second of being here.”

How could I even describe how I felt about being back here?

The honest answer was that I was starting to realize that it was both the worst thing and the best thing that could have happened to me.

I would always have complicated feelings about Tennessee, but I’d slowly realized LA wasn’t the place for me, either.

I did feel more secure in myself now than I ever did in high school.

But I couldn’t sit here and tell Finn I enjoyed it here, either.

I bit the inside of my cheek. “I thought it was the end of my life when I lost my gallery job. One thing I learned was that I cared about the actual art more than the other people in the gallery world, though.”

“People who go to art galleries don’t care about the art?” Finn asked.

“You’d be surprised. People go just because they’re on a date, and they want to seem cultured, and be able to tell their friends they went to an art gallery. And the people buying the art only care about it a small fraction of the time. Mostly they just want investments for their millions and millions of dollars.”

“But you cared about the paintings.”

I pulled in a long breath. “I really did, actually. There are so many talented painters. Seeing people sell their first paintings was the best part of the job. Honestly? That’s the only thing I miss.”

“Wow,” Finn said. “The truth comes out.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

I looked at him and he had a wicked grin on his face. “You’re saying you really don’t miss LA all that much.”

“So?”

“So Tennessee ain’t that bad.”

I held up a finger. “That is not what I’m saying.”

“Ori Adams likes Tennessee,” Finn said, as if he were announcing it to the world. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Shut up,” I told him. “All right. Now you have to tell me a secret.”

“I don’t have any secrets.”

I hummed. “Now that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one.”

“What?” Finn protested. “You want me to say I secretly look for celebrities when I’m driving around town to give people massages, or something?”

I laughed. “Not that kind of secret.”

It was unspoken in the air between us. Finn and I were both probably thinking about the secret he’d told me, but neither of us were going to bring up the fact that he’d gotten blown by a dude.

He groaned, lying back on the blanket. He propped his hands behind his head, looking up again, the muscles in his arms highlighted in the glow of the fire.

He looked strong . In this light, I could see the way his face had subtly changed over the years, too. He still looked young, but he didn’t look like a kid anymore. He was tired tonight and it softened his features a little, as if he wasn’t trying to put on any sort of mask right now.

He was just being himself.

It was the best I’d ever seen him look.

“Fine. I’ve got one,” he said. “Remember when I said the breakup with Christina wasn’t a big deal to me?”

“Yeah.”

He cut me a glance. “It wasn’t that easy.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Seriously?”

“Shocking, right?” he said. “For once, I was in… kind of a serious relationship, I guess. I liked her a lot. She was smart, but also knew how to laugh, you know? I had started thinking about long-term stuff. Proposing to her, maybe. I mean, not anytime soon, but one day. The breakup was pretty shitty.”

A strange feeling made its way through my chest.

Finn had been close to proposing to her?

“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I had no idea.”

“Not your fault.”

“It sounds like she was special.”

There was so much I didn’t know about Finn’s life, these days. I hadn’t even known he was dating Christina, let alone that he’d even started considering proposing .

He’d always talked about it, but he was actually ready for that?

This Finn? My Finn?

“This might sound bad, but I think I just wanted to feel like I was making some fuckin’ progress in my life,” he said. “Like it was moving forward. The idea of having someone around, living with me in my house, was so tempting.”

“I’m sorry it was so hard.”

“Now I’ve got your ass, though,” he said. “I like having someone around. Even if that someone is a punk who wants to fight me every three seconds.”

“I thought you’d want to kick me out right away.”

He furrowed his brow. “What? Why?”

“Because I’ll… you know. Get in your way.”

“Ain’t exactly like I’m doing defensive lineman drills in my house or something, Ori. You’re not in the way.”

“I don’t even know what that is.”

“Football stuff,” he said. “Trust me, you watched me do them at practice plenty of times. But the point is you’re not in my way at all.”

“Fine.”

He was silent for a moment, then looked back over at me, a small smile on his face. “Those green smoothies you make are fucking gross, though.”

I glared at him. “You told me you liked the sample I gave you the other day.”

He winced. “I guess that’s my real secret. I hated it.”

“Damn.”

“I mean, Ori, come on,” he protested. “Are you just putting pure spinach and celery in it and calling that good? It tasted like a football field. And I would know, unfortunately.”

I laughed, shoving him again. “Hey, there was a green apple in there. Or… half of one, at least.”

“Disgusting. Next time, try some normal-person stuff like strawberries or bananas, okay?”

I sat up, dusting off my hands and acting like I was going to get up and walk away. “Fine. I’ll go in and make you a smoothie right now with eight pounds of milk and sugar in it like you like it—”

He was laughing behind me.

A moment later I felt his warm, heavy arms drape around my shoulders, pulling me back down onto the blanket.

He pinned me there. One arm was still around my shoulders behind me, and the other was across my chest as he looked at me.

He relaxed again, but he didn’t take away his arms.

Almost like he was hugging me.

My whole body tingled and flooded with warmth. My cock instantly took Finn’s touch as yet another invitation to get hard again.

“Here. Sit on up again,” he said, getting up and sitting with his legs crossed behind me.

“As long as you don’t insult my smoothies.”

As I sat up, I was solely concentrated on trying to hide the tent in my pants.

Luckily, Finn was behind me.

He shifted, running his palms along my upper shoulders. He let his fingers push in, just a little, the hint of a massage.

“Christ, Ori, you’re tenser than a lot of my athlete clients,” he murmured.

I groaned as he deepened his touch. “Holy fuck, that feels good. Like you’re breaking down years of fucked-up pain in my— God that’s good—”

“You needed this,” he said, lightening up on one area near my shoulder blade. “That’s a bad spot.”

I pulled in a slow breath, relaxing again as his fingers kneaded a steady pattern against my neck. “Forgot how gifted you are with this shit.”

“I’m just well-trained.”

I hummed. “I think you have the natural touch, too.”

He spent the next five minutes or so working deep, slow strokes onto my upper back, unlocking muscle groups I’d forgotten about entirely. His hands moved forward to the front of my shoulders, and I felt the weight of his arm across the front of my chest.

It was an innocent, neutral touch.

But it also made me feel cared for, in a way I hadn’t accessed in a long time. Who else had ever touched me like this?

I was harder than a rock now.

When Finn leaned forward over my shoulders, I knew I was so, so fucked.

I tried to position myself on the blanket so that he wouldn’t see.

But Finn was pretty observant. The light of the fire and the moon weren’t that dim.

“Ori, are you hard? ” he said, the first moment he glanced down.

Fuck, fuck, double fuck.