Page 25 of Just for the Plot

“There isn’t much criteria for a one-night stand,” he answers. “Have to be attracted to her and she can’t be fucking crazy. Prefer if she doesn’t know who the hell I am.”

“As if people don’t know who you are.”

“You would be surprised,” he says.

“Okay, so what about someone that you would actually date, because I’ve known you for a good amount of time and you can’t tell me that you’re the kind of guy that sleeps around. You must be looking to at least date someone.”

“Yeah, I am,” he says, his eyes straying away from mine.

“And what would that criteria be?”

“Why so curious?” he asks.

“Because I lovelove, and if I can help find someone for you, like be your aunty matchmaker, then I’d feel like I’d fulfilled a duty I was meant to have.”

“Please don’t call yourself my aunt.”

“Practically am,” I say. “But seriously. What are you looking for?”

“You really want to know?” he asks.

“I really do.”

He nods and sits up. “Okay. If I were to truly put it out there.” His eyes travel up and down my body for a moment. “Someone like you.”

Immediately my cheeks flush as his eyes bore into mine.

“Someone like me?” I ask incredulously.

“Yeah.” He finishes off his third beer since we’ve been talking and sets the empty glass down. “Gorgeous, funny, charismatic. Couldn’t give two shits that I’m a baseball player. Outgoing, gets along with my sister, and knows what she wants.”

“Ah, I’m going to stop you right there,” I say. “I don’t know what I want, so not a good comparison.”

He studies me for a moment, a long, stretched-out moment, one that actually makes me squirm in my seat from the intensity of his eyes. After a few seconds, he says, “Yeah, you’re probably right, but you get the idea.”

“I do. Getting along with Gabby is a must, and she also has to get along with me, too, because we’re neighbors and I plan on being in your life a lot more now that we live in the same city. You’re my only friend here.”

He wets his lips and says, “I hope you are. I expect it.”

“So where are we on the whole book thing?” I ask. “We got so caught up in your filthy mouth that we didn’t solidify plans. Are you going to be my book buddy?”

He stretches his arm along the back of the couch, all of his attention on me despite the raucous crowd in front of us and the people vying for his attention.

“Romance?” he asks.

“Yeah, romance. Think you can handle it? Some men think romance books are a joke. I personally think it’s a fantastic way to educate yourself in female desires.”

“I don’t think it’s a joke,” he says. “Just never read one before. Actually not much of a reader at all. Never really put time into it.”

“So this is perfect then, because now you can explore and see what you like. Are you a romantic at all?”

He rubs the side of his face. “Never had anyone I wanted to be romantic with.”

“You’ve never had a girlfriend?” I ask, even though I feel like I know the answer to that.

“Not anyone serious.”

“Right, I feel like Gabby would have been gushing to me about it. Have you been on a real date?”