Best Friends, Tennessee (Hard Spot Saloon #1)

Epilogue

ORI, TWO MONTHS LATER

Dorothy was from Kansas, not Tennessee… but damn, she had a point when she said there’s no place like home.

Mason walked into the Hard Spot looking like a rock star off-duty, with sleepy eyes that somehow still always seemed like they were looking for fun.

“I’m swearing off sex,” he announced as he sat down at the bar next to us, nodding at Kane.

“I’ll believe that when I see it, Hot Mess,” Kane told him.

“Finn’s always telling me I need to do less in life, and stop saying yes to everything,” Mason said. “If I quit hooking up with guys all over the state of Tennessee, I’m sure I’ll have a lot more time to… meditate, or whatever people do when they have free time.”

Finn cracked up next to me. “I said you should focus more on taking care of yourself, not that you need to become a sexless, meditating monk,” he said. “But I do think a little meditation might be good for you.”

Looking around the saloon now, I couldn’t believe I ever thought I’d dislike this place.

I’d only been back for a handful of months and already, I had to admit, this place felt like home.

Goddamn .

I’d been working at the art museum in Sable Valley for six weeks, and I already liked it more than any gallery job I’d had in LA. It was the opposite of pretentious—everyone who worked there seemed to actually give a damn about the art itself, and art students from the nearby college volunteered to help with archiving. I’d been mentoring a freshman student named Lexie, and she was bright, helpful, and a good learner.

My stay at Finn’s house had also been… extended.

Indefinitely.

I’d ditched the guest bedroom and had been sleeping in Finn’s bed every night, where he cuddled me incessantly. He told me that it was his prime duty to heat up my “icicle hands” every night, but I knew that even if I was as warm as him, he’d still cuddle me anyway.

And anytime Finn and I stopped by the Hard Spot, I swore it was like I’d stepped into my own little version of Cheers.

I liked being in a place where everybody knew my name.

I belonged. For the first time in my life.

I was allowed to be different, to be myself, to show up in clothes that looked different from the local cowboys in flannel, or to put on fun club music, even here.

In fact, I’d gotten Finn and some of the other Hard Spot regulars to enjoy electronic music recently. It all started with a club remix of Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire,” which got everyone dancing one night, and now they were open to more dance music when I put it on.

Mason was one of our most fun friends, now, too.

“I put twenty dollars on Hot Mess having sex by the end of tonight ,” I told Finn, and he grinned at me.

“Pretty good bet.”

“You two don’t believe in me,” Mason joked, shaking his head.

“Put me down for forty bucks on that one,” Kane told us.

“Look at this,” Max told me, leaning across the bar and showing me some card game on his phone. “I think for the next game night, we should have a table for this—wait, what was that?”

Max looked over behind us toward one of the tall alcoves, surrounded by bookshelves. Something gold fluttered down from one of the top shelves, floating toward the floor.

“Don’t say it,” Kane told him, but Max was already ahead of him.

“Cat ghost,” Max said, coming around the bar and walking over to grab the thing that had fallen off a shelf.

He came back and held it up, and I remembered it instantly.

It was the big, gold glittery bow that had come on the bottle of champagne that I’d gotten for Finn.

It was from the first day I’d returned to Bestens.

“That fuckin’ thing,” Finn said, a smile on his face. “Got glitter all over us.”

“We still haven’t opened that bottle of champagne,” I said. “It’s in the cabinet at home.”

“We’ll save it for a super special night,” Finn assured me.

“I’m convinced the ghost in here is, like, a love ghost,” Max said. “I’m sure of it, now. It’s like a little Cupid or something.”

“Cat Cupid?” Finn asked.

“The ghost knocked it down to tell you two a message,” Max continued. “Like, a sign that your love is real.”

“Maybe it’s a sign that Hot Mess is going to fall in love, too,” I offered. “Like you shouldn’t swear off sex.”

Mason laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I need. Someone more steady than me, I guess.”

“Yeah,” the rest of us agreed, all in unison.

“Who could tame you, though?” Finn asked.

“I really don’t even know,” Mason said.

Soon the rest of the guys got distracted, talking more about what games to have for the next upcoming game night.

But as I looked at the glittery bow on the bar top, thinking about that unopened bottle of champagne, a little inkling of something was in my mind.

It had been innocent.

The other day, Finn told me to look something up on his phone—he wanted to know when it was best to plant a certain flower in the backyard.

But when I’d opened the search engine on his phone, something shocking had been on it.

Finn had been searching for “cool engagement rings for guys.”

My heart had skipped a beat when I saw it.

I knew if Finn was hunting for something like that, it would probably be a while before any proposal actually occurred. Finn was happy to take everything slow with me, still operating under the thought that I was afraid of commitment.

But for the rest of that night, after seeing the search, I was on cloud nine.

I actually wanted it.

For the first time ever.

The idea of being engaged to Finn—or married to him, one day, sent me over the goddamn moon.

He was someone worth committing to.

And the most surprising thing was that I didn’t have any fear about it, at all.

I hadn’t said a word about it to him. But the idea rested in my mind, like a surprise I might get one day.

With Finn, I’d realized, commitment felt like freedom.

And that was all I’d ever wanted.

Danielle met up with us an hour later. She joined me, Finn, and Mason, the four of us swapping off between rounds of pool.

When Max came around to refill our pitcher of beer, I watched Finn taking a shot on the billiards table, leaning over.

“You know,” I said, leaning over toward Max’s ear. “I kind of like the idea of the ghost being like a little Cupid.”

“Right?” Max said, smiling and nodding at me. “It just makes sense, doesn’t it? It’s not a creepy haunting ghost, it just… wants people to be happy.”

I puffed out a laugh, looking back over at Finn.

His eyes met mine, and in just one glance, I felt like we were completely connected.

It was always like that, with him.

Like we were always joined together with a tether, no matter where we were. Miles away or just across a room, we’d always been two halves of a pair.

Back when we were friends as kids. Even when we’d fought as teenagers. And when I’d moved across the country, then come back again.

Finn and I belonged to each other, forever.

That was real love.

And it was my favorite meaning of home.

Thank you for reading!