Page 224 of Just for the Plot

Fuck.“Do you think…do you think they’re seeing each other?”

“No,” OC says with a headshake. “I don’t. She seemed committed to you.”

“Then what the fuck is this?” I ask, flashing them the screen again.

“I think that’s a question you need to ask her,” OC says. “Don’t make assumptions. Talk it out, because the worst thing that could happen is you don’t communicate those feelings and you wind up doing something stupid.”

“He’s right,” Graydon says. “Talk to her.”

I glance down at the time on OC’s phone and say, “I have to be at the stadium in two hours.”

“We can finish up—”

“OC,” Gretchen snaps, coming into the event space again. “What are you doing?”

OC springs out of his seat and starts stuffing bags again, not paying any attention, just working as if that’s what he’s been doing this whole time.

Graydon whispers, “Just go.”

I glance at him and he gives me a curt nod, so I grab my shit and head toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Gretchen asks.

“I have shit to do,” I answer, moving past her as I hear Graydon say something to her in the background. I don’t care what it is. I’m just on a mission to go talk to Bower. We said we were going to be open and honest with each other, so that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

I rock on my heels, hands in my pockets as I stare at the stained-glass doors in front of me, nerves wreaking havoc on my stomach. The entire drive over here, I thought about what I was going to say, how I was going to approach this, and every scenario, it ended with me trying not to fucking beg her.

I’m not going to do it.

I’m fucking not.

She either wants to be with me or she doesn’t, and I’m going to have to accept that. I’ve been in a position where I’ve liked her much longer than she’s ever even thought about giving me a chance, and if she needs a break, to gather herself, then I’ll give her a break. But it doesn’t mean I’m fucking throwing in the towel. Just means that I will wait. I’ve waited as long as I have already, so what’s longer?

The door opens and Bower stands on the other side, surprised, wearing high-waisted jeans, a button-up shirt with one side tucked in, and her hair loosely tied back, a few strands falling forward, framing her beautiful face.

Fuck, I love her.

So fucking much.

“Bennett,” she says, surprised, before looking behind her. “What are you doing here?”

“Can we talk?”

She comes closer, closing off the open space between her and the door. “Bennett, I’m at work.”

“I know, baby, and I’m sorry, but I really need to talk to you.”

Concern draws her brow together. “Is everything okay?”

“Not really,” I say.

“Okay, umm, give me a second—”

“Who is it?” Adalade calls out.

Bower winces and then says, “Umm, it’s Bennett.”

“Bennett? Well, what on earth are you doing? Bring him in.”