Page 223 of Just for the Plot

OC looks between the two of us. “You mean when you hear her heels clacking, your taint doesn’t swallow your balls whole?”

Graydon looks to me and then says, “Shit like that is why you don’t have friends.”

“I have friends. I’m looking at them.”

“Acquaintances,” Graydon says.

“I’ve heard you have sex, so I think that counts as more than just acquaintances.”

Graydon’s jaw tightens and I fear if I allow them to keep talking to each other, it’s going to go south. “I’m unsure how things are going with me and Bower.”

Of course that draws OC’s attention immediately. “What do you mean? I thought shit was good with you two.”

“So did I,” I say, plopping a bag to the side and picking up another. “But we had this awkward moment and I really don’t know what to do with it. I feel her pulling away a bit, and, I don’t know, the fear of her leaving is stressing me.”

“What was the awkward moment?” OC asks.

“It’s dumb,” I say, feeling slightly embarrassed about it.

“Probably,” Graydon says. “But just fucking say it. We don’t have all day.”

And that is his level of empathy.

At least it’s something.

“I called her my girlfriend and she wasn’t expecting it and then it got weird after that.”

“What do you mean she wasn’t expecting it?” OC asks. “I thought you two were a thing.”

“So did I,” I say. “And then she fell asleep on the couch after the wild card game night and she was supposed to celebrate with me. I know she was overworked, but fuck, I keep thinking that she’s pulling away and I can’t figure out how to stop it.”

OC takes a seat at the table and thumbs through his phone. “You know, I thought that maybe this was old or something, but…do you think this has anything to do with it?”

He turns his phone to me and I see a picture of Bower and Cougar together, his hand on top of hers.

“What the fuck?” I whisper as I take the phone from him and scroll through the pictures. One of them laughing. One of him holding her hand. One of them hugging.

I scan over the picture, trying to figure out when this was taken, but I don’t fucking know at this point.

“Is it old?”

“I don’t know,” I say as Graydon steps up behind me and looks at the pictures himself.

I can feel him tense next to me, but then he goes back to stuffing the bags.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he says, keeping his eyes down.

“No, not nothing. Fucking tell me,” I say.

He glances at OC quickly and then back at me. “Cougar just got that haircut. It’s a new picture.”

Every fucking piece of hope drains from my body as I stare down at the image of the two of them.

The joy in her eyes as she looks at him.

The way he’s holding her hand, almost as if his thumb is rubbing over the back of her knuckles. Their hug, how it’s their bodies pressing against each other rather than a friendly hug where pelvises stay as far away as possible.