Page 139 of Just for the Plot

“I said, understood?” he repeats, pulling my attention back to the present.

“Umm, ye-yes,” I stutter.

“Good.” He then puts a few inches between us and takes my hand in his, the anger vanishing as he says, “I spoke with Gretchen.”

Clearing my throat, I nod, feeling fuzzy and like I just had whiplash. “Okay.”

“And the book club is taking off and she wants to sign on with a local bookstore that can help distribute the books.”

“That sounds—”

“And I want it to be you.”

My brow creases. “But I don’t have a bookstore.”

“Your book truck,” he says, looking like I’m the confused one here.

“Bennett, that’s just a dream. It’s not actually real.”

“But you can make it real. This is the chance, the opportunity you need to push you in that direction.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know about that. I’m not ready. There’s so much that goes into it and—” His fingers silence my lips.

“There’s always going to be reasons not to try, Bower, but you can’t let those cloud your vision. You know what you want, you’ve done the research, and you can make this happen. I know you can.”

“I don’t know. It all seems too quick and I’m not sure I really want to do this—”

“That’s a fucking lie and you know it. You’ve dreamed of this book truck for a while. You have the money for it, the capability, and the plans. You just need to take the leap and execute. Trust me.” He looks me dead in the eyes. “I wouldn’t push you to do it if I didn’t think you could.”

I bite down on my bottom lip and look away.

Could I?

Could I actually put this together?

I have the logo designed, the name, the truck even. I just have to make the leap.

“I can see you thinking about it,” he says, moving in close again. “Bower, I know you can do this. I fucking know you can. Gretchen wants it done in a week, but I know that’s too soon. I’m going to hold her off, because I want your grand opening to coincide with the book club.”

“That’s a lot of pressure, Bennett.”

“The kind of pressure that’s worth it,” he says as his thumbs slip under my shirt, causing my head to fall back to the wall. “This is what you’ve wanted for so long, so don’t be scared now that there’s an opportunity.” He swipes his thumbs across my hips. “And I’ll be here to help you.”

“You’re going on a long away trip tomorrow.” Just the thought of him being gone for ten days actually makes me feel sick. And that’s what should scare me the most, because have I really grown so attached to him that I can’t fathom him being gone for ten days?

This is bad, so freaking bad, and yet, as his hands play with me andhemoves in closer, I don’t stop him. I let it happen, because I know, deep down inside, even though I know my friend would not approve, I want him.

I squeeze my eyes shut from that realization.

I want Bennett.

I want his hands on me.

His mouth.

His tongue.

I want to feel him, every hard, muscular inch.