I’m not attracted to men. But I’ll break all my own rules for my best friend. One thing is true about Ori he hates small town Tennessee. We were always I played football, he was in art class. I was straight, he was gay. I was popular in school, he never fit in. He fled to the city the moment we graduated. It ain’t perfect here, but I love our country home. I missed Ori like hell, but now he’s back, living in my guest room after years apart. Best friends reunited, right? …Like hell. He says I’m too Tennessee for him now. So what if I love the local saloon, volunteer with horses, and wear a Stetson hat? I want a white-picket-fence life, and he wants all things casual. When I try to show him how good it can be here, he tells me to back off. But I’ll check his cocky attitude when he calls me stubborn. He pushes? I push back. I’ve got him up against the wall within 24 hours. It’s a full-on fight, but it turns into… something else. A craving. Some twisted need to be close to him. Being physical with him was what I missed most, but we were never physical like this before. …He sure doesn’t mind how country I am when he’s in my bed. Now I can’t get enough. But if he won’t commit to anyone, why would he with me? And how can I show him exactly how deep I’m willing to go?

A hockey hotshot has me wrapped around his finger… Even after I learn his dirty secret. Jesse is cocky, charming, tattooed, and even more possessive off the ice. …He’s also my friend’s younger brother—which I found out like a puck to the face. He’s too young, too popular, and he knows he has my attention. He’s a college dreamboat, with frat bros riding his jock every day. My world’s different. I spend my days outside on my ranch riding horses, and my nights at the local saloon, looking for something or someone fun. Jesse’s more than just fun, though. I’ve been a lonely, hot mess, but my first time with a hockey player lit a fire in me I haven’t felt in too long. I got a taste, and I don’t want to stop. I’m addicted. To his lips, his mouth, his skin on mine. He should be off-limits, but when he gets all possessive, telling me that I’m his? Only one word comes out of my mouth. Yours.