Page 7 of Hot Ice, Tennessee (Hard Spot Saloon #2)

7

MASON

I wasn’t sure what time it was when Jesse had shown up in my backyard, and I definitely didn’t know what time it was now.

But tonight was already a ‘ Mason makes very bad decisions’ kind of night.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Jesse said. He was still standing in my kitchen, but I’d gone over and sank down onto the couch. “You’re not lifting the ban.”

“I think I am,” I said.

“You want to hook up with some random guy one of your friends brings over?” Jesse asks. “Low standards, much?”

“My standards aren’t low just because I like sex.”

“Not saying you’re slutty.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

He shrugged one shoulder, leaning on the counter. “Just saying you’ll like it a lot better if you break your ban with a guy who can give you what you need.”

Shut up.

You fucking 21-year-old perfect, cocky, gorgeous son of a bitch, I can’t handle all of the things that come out of your mouth.

“Have you always been like this?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Pretty much. You know, the first cocktail I ever drank was a margarita. Back in freshman year of high school, when I was still a little baby Sanocki.”

I snorted. “You’re still a little baby Sanocki. God, I can’t even imagine you in high school. You must have been all cool and popular, wearing leather jackets.”

“Not exactly. I did okay, though.”

“If we went to high school together you would have hated my ass. I was a social butterfly.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “When you were in high school, I was a child.”

I groaned. “Don’t remind me. Let’s just pretend we could have been in high school at the same age. Do you think you would have hated me?”

“Maybe. Maybe I would have really liked you, though.”

“I can picture you, walking through the halls, a popular athlete, winking at people.”

He laughed. “I was scowling in the corner and I couldn’t wait to get to college. High school wasn’t exactly easy for me. It was when my mom was struggling the most, working two jobs. Kane helped out, though. Sometimes he signed off on paperwork for me.”

Jesse didn’t talk about his childhood much, but for the first time I got a clearer picture of it.

“Did you ever have a high school job?” I asked.

He gave me a look. “If I tell you, are you going to make fun of me?”

“Now I’m really curious.”

He leaned forward on the kitchen counter. “I worked in a frozen yogurt shop at the mall.”

I suppressed the urge to squee.

“Jesse Sanocki—”

“I told you not to make fun of me.”

“ You, and your cocky attitude, serving high-schoolers and mall-goers little cups of frozen yogurt?”

“Hey, I made great tips.”

I smiled. “No fucking shit, you did. I bet every teenage girl and gay guy wanted to leap across the counter and make out with you.”

“It was a fun job. Sometimes. When there weren’t too many people there.”

“Did you have a uniform?”

“Little yellow and blue shirt and a yellow ballcap.”

“I’m dying. I need photographic evidence. I’m asking Kane for pictures.”

“You want me to kill you. Clearly.”

“Frozen yogurt.”

“There was also the summer I was a volunteer park ranger, but that’s another story.”

I sighed, leaning back on the couch, staring up at the beams on the ceiling. I suddenly wished I could see Jesse at every stage of life—as a sweet little kid, a cranky teenager, and hell, even last year .

He was so interesting. Why did introverts always turn out to have the coolest inner lives?

“Talk to me about hockey,” I told him.

“It’s fast. It’s fun. It’s on ice.”

“Smartass,” I said. “Does the puck ever fucking hurt if it slams into your body?”

“It hurts badly, sometimes,” Jesse said. “But I can take it.”

I groaned. “Are all hockey players mouthy?”

A small smile formed on his lips. His dark hair shone under the pendant lights in my kitchen, and I wanted my hands in it again.

“A lot of us are mouthy, yes,” he said. “We don’t hesitate to fight. But maybe I’m a little more intense on the ice.”

I liked the idea of that.

“A bunch of guys brutalizing each other while on skates. I can’t imagine how much stamina that takes.”

“A guy tried to choke me once,” Jesse said.

I gave him a look. “Really?”

He glanced up at me from under his lashes. “Not that kind of choke. Calm down.”

My blood went hot. The part of me that was like a drooling animal came back out again.

The memory of Jesse’s warm, strong hand on my throat rushed into my mind, and I had to stop thinking of it or I’d need to go lock myself in my bedroom and come.

I swallowed.

“Well, it sounds wild.”

“Got a summer league game tomorrow night,” Jesse said. “You can come watch me fuck people up, if you’re that curious.”

“I probably shouldn’t.”

“Up to you, cowboy.”

The sun was just starting to set over the stables outside. I turned on mood lighting and music in my living room to get prepped for the party, and grabbed my cold drink from the coffee table. Jesse had helped me decide on a classic strawberry margarita—and I was starting to feel good.

Too good.

Why the fuck did I feel so good all of a sudden?

“I still think your idea is bad, by the way,” Jesse said a moment later, glancing up at me as he finished slicing strawberries for his drink. “Don’t hook up with some random guy tonight.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll regret it,” Jesse said.

“I think the ban is doing more harm than good. Why the hell do you care who I fuck, anyway?”

I decided it was probably a bad idea to mention the heated, pent-up dreams I was having about him earlier today.

“Hey. Watch it,” Jesse said as he came into the living room from the kitchen, walking over toward me on the couch.

He nodded downward, pointing at the drink in my hand.

“Shit,” I said, seeing that I’d been holding it at an angle, almost spilling onto the floor. “Ten points for you, Jesse.”

What was with me? I felt woozy, but I’d only had a couple of sips of my drink, and I definitely didn’t feel drunk or anything familiar. The world was a little softer around the edges, though, and every time my eyes landed on Jesse I was fixated on his tattoos—those goddamn tattoos that snaked up under his sleeve and made me want to peel his clothes off and nibble and lick every inch of him.

“Come on. Sit,” Jesse said, taking a spot on the couch that was near me but also not close enough.

“You think anybody’s here yet?” I said, the words coming out slightly slower than usual. “For the party, I mean.”

“You said people wouldn’t be here for at least another hour,” Jesse said, furrowing his brow. “Are you sure you’re okay, Mason?”

I thought through everything I’d done today. I had worked in the sun, but I’d had heat stroke before, and it sure as fuck didn’t feel good like this. I hadn’t been drinking at all before the last ten minutes. Certainly no weed. I’d gone up to shower and—

Fuck .

“The allergy meds,” I told Jesse as a slow smile spread over my face. “My doc did say they could be a little strong sometimes, and I took a double dose.”

“Especially after the sips of tequila you just took,” Jesse said. He stood up, grabbing my drink and taking it. “This is mine now. You’re cut off.”

“What?” I protested. “Okay. Fine. Maybe you’re right.”

“I know I am,” he said, tossing back a sip of my cocktail.

“You’re young.”

“I know that, too.”

Fuck, I was staring at his lips again. I kept trying to act like I wasn’t actively watching him, but I was pretty sure I was doing a terrible job of it now. The way the sleeves on his shirt were rolled up, and his forearms looked so strong and soft at the same time. The way a piece of his hair fell over his forehead every once in a while, and he always pushed it back the same way, sometimes glancing over at me afterward, too.

His lashes were thick and dark but the green eyes behind them were soulful, even when he was trying to give me his best fuck-off glare.

I wanted to know everything about him.

I wanted to ask so many more questions, to figure out how someone could be 21 and so sure of himself, so much smarter than I had ever been, then or now.

He wasn’t just hot. He was fucking gorgeous . And I was definitely staring again.

“It’s okay. You’ll love all of my friends, and they said they’re excited to meet you, too. I’m sure they’ll be here soon.”

There was a slight smile forming at the corner of his lips, which only made me want to stare at them more. “Excited to meet me? Did you tell your friends about me?”

I felt heat in my cheeks. “No. I mean, yes, but I only told them that we’re definitely not going to fuck.”

He was full-on smiling now. Was I making everything worse?

“Babe, you’re not even going to be awake by the time this party is supposed to start,” he said.

“I’m not sleepy, I’m just… fuzzy. Babe. ” I realized that I’d somehow slumped backward onto the pillows of my couch, and now I kind of felt like I was floating on a marshmallow. “I can’t fall asleep if I haven’t watched The Office yet.”

“The Office?”

“I watch it before I go to bed, whenever I had a shitty day and I’m alone,” I explained. “I really have to watch it if I watched a horror movie. I love horror movies. But if I watch one at night, I can’t go to bed alone and scared. What a fucking combo. So, The Office solves all of that. One or two episodes before bed keeps the scaries away.”

Jesse was looking at me like he was trying hard not to laugh. “We can turn on The Office if you want.”

I reached out and pushed his arm. “No way. I don’t feel bad when you’re here. And right now I’m like a little marshmallow s’more, anyway.”

“Hmm?”

I was saying things out loud that I should have been keeping inside. “You look good in this light,” I told Jesse. “Like a fucking painting. Way better than the other night when we had no power on in here.”

“Did I look bad in the dim light?” he teased.

“No. You’re always beautiful,” I murmured.

I felt so warm inside. The sound of his laugh was even better. I hadn’t heard that enough, but Jesse seemed more relaxed now.

God, it was good to see him happy. He deserved to be happy like that more often, and I wanted to fucking smack the guy who had ever taken advantage of Jesse. Who wouldn’t want him? Who wouldn’t want to keep him forever?

“And you’re on another plane of existence right now,” Jesse said.

“No I’m not,” I said, struggling to sit up a little straighter and mostly failing. “I’ll prove it. Ask me anything.”

“Where are we right now?”

“Heaven, as far as I’m concerned.” He reached out to shove me, but I grabbed at his hand, clasping my palm around it. “This is mine now. Ask me another.”

He let me keep his hand, and I gently started stroking it, laying little patterns onto his palm with my fingertips.

“Were you feeling okay earlier today? Truthful answers only,” Jesse said, and I saw that his expression had gone a little more serious.

I paused for a moment before I spoke. “No. I was… very sad. But I was really glad to see your face in my backyard, I can tell you that much. Very honest answer.”

“That’s a relief.”

“What?”

“You looked ready to bring out a shotgun when I first stepped into the yard.”

“No way.”

He made a stern expression, showing me how my face must have looked earlier, and I laughed. “I wasn’t mad. I was worried.”

“Worried…”

I swallowed. “Worried that you’d see the real me. The fucking bad parts .”

He squeezed my hand. “No such thing. You’re going to be fine, Mason. You’re a lot less chaotic than you think you are.”

“You haven’t seen half of it yet,” I told him.

He quirked up an eyebrow. “Tell me more.”

“Don’t want to scare you.”

“You couldn’t freak me out if you tried,” he said.

I didn’t care if I was woozy on allergy pills or not. He was mesmerizing. Did he have this effect on everyone? And those—

“ Tattoos ,” I said out loud in a murmur, out of nowhere. Shit. That’s not how conversations worked.

“What about them?” Jesse asked.

“They’re just really nice. Do you have a favorite?”

There. That was a perfectly reasonable, grammatical English question.

“Maybe this,” Jesse said, sliding his hand out from where I was holding it and pointing to a tattoo on his other arm. “It’s called a summer redbird. I saw one the morning after I found out about my ex cheating, and I had one tattooed on me by the end of that week. She kind of marks the beginning of my fresh start, and I fucking love her.”

“So beautiful,” I said, and I meant it more than ever. It was one of my favorite tattoos of his, too, a gorgeous ruby red bird in flight, just below his elbow. “Hey, Jesse. You don’t have to stay here, if you have, y’know, places to be. Frat houses to… do frat things, in.”

He looked serious for a moment, glancing back down at my hand and squeezing it again, running his fingers along my palm now. “I have absolutely nowhere else to be, Mason.”

God, that feels so good. Keep doing that thing with your fingers. Forever, if you want.

A moment later I blinked my eyes open.

Shit.

Maybe it was more than a moment later.

I was dozing off without realizing it.

“I’m awake. Is it almost time?”

“No. Because we’re calling this party off,” Jesse said. “Text your friends.”

“I can still… well, maybe I shouldn’t.”

“I think sleep is what you need most. Here.”

He handed me my phone. I grabbed it and thumbed through it, but with how drowsy I was, texting everybody honestly seemed like more effort than it was worth.

I waved my hand through the air.

“They can still come over. Just tell them I’m sleeping.”

Jesse smiled. “You are so fucking cute.”

Ugh.

Yes.

I liked that. Way too much .

“Fine. Help me out,” I asked him, navigating to my texts. “Top three group chats. Just say party’s off , or something. They’ll understand.”

“Okay,” Jesse said, and he sat next to me, thumbing through and tapping out a message to the group chats as I watched. “Done. They all know.”

My eyes scanned the previous messages on the screen of the last group chat, and I bit my tongue as I saw the top one.

I’d messaged them earlier today:

Mason : Is it bad to want to fuck your friend’s brother? For context, hypothetically, he’s the hottest person you’ve seen in years. Keep that in mind.

I had no clue if Jesse had seen that text or not, but the look on his face was pretty goddamn satisfied right now. A moment later he put my phone down on the coffee table, turning to me.

“Bedtime?”

“Oh, shit, the horses,” I said. “I wanted to go out and check on them one last time.”

“I can go out and do a quick check before I leave,” Jesse offered. “It’s really no problem.”

“They did seem comfortable around you,” I said.

He nodded. “I’ll take care of it. You can sleep. Promise the world won’t crash down around you if you get a good night’s sleep.”

I hummed. “Finn always says I need better sleep.”

“Well, he sounds like a good friend. He’s right.”

I was lost in the green of his eyes. His lashes were longer than they had any right to be.

I hung in that moment, watching him like he was some impossible thing I’d dreamed up. He was so close to me on the couch, and I focused on his pretty freckles, just below his eyes.

“Oh, God,” I murmured in a low voice. “I really like you.”

He smiled and it only made me melt even more inside. When one of his dimples showed up, I was pretty sure I might actually pass out.

“I’ll help you to bed.”

He took my arm and I stood up. I had no problem walking even though I was tired, but I wasn’t going to refuse Jesse’s arm if he was offering it.

We got up the stairs and at the end of the hall, my bedroom doors were open. He walked over with me and I sank down on the mattress, which felt like another marshmallow.

“Thank you for coming over. And—I’m sorry I didn’t want to talk about the article, Jesse,” I said. “I just don’t like thinking about shitty things, okay? I’m not… I’m not being fake. I never will be.”

“It’s okay to be sad sometimes, you know?” he said. “It’s a part of life. You can be yourself, even if that’s sad, at some moments.”

“I’m not sad around you. You smell good. Fuck, do you know how good you smell?”

I was saying nonsense and my eyes were already heavy with sleep again, blinking shut. I vaguely registered the sound of him walking back off toward my door, and I was aware that he was leaving.

“You smell good too, Mason.”

I slept like a rock, better than I had in a long while.

I woke in the morning light and padded down the stairs to find my kitchen immaculately clean.

Jesse had done the dishes. He’d cleaned up, tidied the counter, and even put back the pillows and blankets I’d messed up on the couch. When I went out to see the horses they were happy as clams, well taken care of and water buckets full.

When I went back in the kitchen I noticed a note he’d left on the little magnet whiteboard I kept on the fridge.

It was the name of an indoor ice rink, and then a note scrawled at the bottom:

If you really want to see how I play.