Page 157 of Just for the Plot

Are they actually dating?

Or just talking like me and Bower?

Oh fuck…has he…has he kissed her yet? If the answer is yes, it very well might downright destroy me.

“From the green—ill—look in your expression, I’m guessing this is not what you were expecting.”

“Not even fucking a little.” I take a screenshot of the pictures and then text them to my phone. Then I toss his phone back to him and bury my hands in my hair. “Fuck, do you think they’re dating?”

“I don’t know. What has their relationship been like?” he asks. “From what you told me, it was casual, right?”

“Yeah, casual.” I think about it for a second, trying to recount what she’s told me about them, but I can’t fucking remember a goddamn thing.“At least I thought it was casual. Hell, they were going out on morning dates, like five-thirty kind of shit.”

“What the fuck is that?” Nolan shakes his head. “Nah, that’s not serious. That’s tagging her along.”

“Really?” I ask, with a bout of hope I shouldn’t cling to, but it’s all I have at this moment.

“Yeah, no one serious about dating someone is going to only do morning dates. That’s like the courteous date time. Hell, five thirty is not even courteous, that’s the pity date. The date you go on, hoping they don’t show up.”

“I think it’s because it’s the only time he had available.”

“Nah, he could make it work and he’s choosing not to. Now, the question is…where is her head at? Also, you might want confirmation where his head is at, because those pictures don’t seem like an early morning date. More like lunchtime.”

“How can you even tell? They’re in a coffee house,” I say.

Nolan rolls his eyes as if I’m the biggest fucking idiot he’s ever met. He pulls his phone out again and goes to the pictures. “See this guy at the table next to them? Classic ham-and-cheese sandwich with soup. No one is eating that at five thirty in the morning. Easily an afternoon date, and if he’s moving her up to the afternoon, then that means she’s moving up on his list of interest. When these pictures are taken at night, that’s when you need to start shitting yourself.”

Yeah, already fucking there.

“How do I get confirmation?”

“Ask Graydon to ask him.”

I sarcastically laugh, because imagine. “You really think Graydon St. John is going to ask Cougar about his love life?”

“If the price is right, he might.” Nolan takes a bite of his burrito and moans again. “Seriously, I’m going to start campaigning for chorizo.”

“It doesn’t need a campaign,” I nearly yell, frustration taking over. “It’s a wildly popular breakfast meat.”

Nolan has the burrito halfway to his mouth as he stares at me from my outburst. He slowly lowers it to his napkin on the table and says, “Hey, motherfucker, don’t take your frustration out on me. Be grateful I’m here to support you in your time of need.” He clears his throat and offers me a bite of his burrito. “To calm your nerves.”

Lips pursed, I get up and slam my chair into the table before taking off toward the locker room, my mind whirling with possibilities and my stomach queasy with the idea that she might still be interested in Cougar.

And where is his head at? How convincing is he? Would he be able to win her over, despite the history we have together?

Fuck, why don’t I know anything about him?

No, the better question is: Why did I follow Nolan’s stupid advice and set them up to begin with?

I pull my phone from my pocket and stare down at the screen, a picture of me and Bower as my wallpaper igniting the simmering rage deep inside me.

Fuck, I have to find out.

No, I need to find out.

And it seems like there’s only one way to do so…

CHAPTER 28