Page 26 of Just for the Plot

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not a complete recluse. Just been focused on baseball so haven’t had much time to think about anything else. But yes, I’ve been on a date. I can be romantic. I know what it takes. Just haven’t found the person that deserves that kind of attention from me.”

“That makes sense.” I finish off the rest of my beer just as a waiter brings us each another as well as a giant soft pretzel to share. Wow, they’re on it. Bennett picks up the pretzel and tears a piece off for me beforetaking a piece for himself. “I haven’t found anyone good enough either. Hey, maybe we can set each other up with someone.”

“Who do you know in San Francisco that you can set me up with?”

I glance around the room. “I don’t know, there are some ladies in here that I could chat with, see if they’re interested in you.”

He shakes his head. “They’re only in here because they know this is where the Bombers hang out. They’re certified cleat chasers, and I’m not into that. Plus, I don’t have anyone I could set you up with, so that’s a no.”

“Ugh, fine.” I sigh. “But. We’re on for the book club?” I point at him and wiggle my eyebrows.

“We’re on.”

“If he brings over another shot, I won’t be able to do it,” I say as I lean against Bennett’s chest.

We’re both slouched on the couch, staring up at the broken-down lobster traps above us, beer swishing around in our stomachs with a shot we just got from Nolan.

“You and me both.” He drags his hand down his face. “Fuck, I never drink this much.”

“Really?” I ask. “You make it seem like you can handle it so easily.”

I feel him shake his head. “Nope, things are getting fuzzy.”

“Same.”

“Bad things happen when things get fuzzy.”

“Am I to hold you accountable from doing bad things?”

“Probably best at this point.”

“Your sister wouldn’t want it any other way. So what do I need to stop you from doing?”

He sighs. “Well, I get handsy when I’m drunk.” He tugs on a strand of my hair. “You can’t have me doing that.”

“Right, check. I do the same thing. I get cuddly too,” I say as I snuggle in closer to Bennett, his arm now draping around me.

“So, no cuddling for you then.”

“Nope, none. And no touching for you.”

“Correct.” His finger twists a lock of my hair.

“Do you tend to hook up when you’re drunk?”

“Unfortunately,” he says. “It’s probably when it happens the most because I’m just trying to get off when I couldn’t care less who it’s with.”

“Trust me, been there done that, regretted it in the morning because it’s never a good lay. I do a better job myself.”

“You do?” he asks, sounding surprised.

“Uh, yeah, I’m well skilled at providing my own orgasms. I’m assuming you must be the same, because there is no way you’re not giving yourself pleasure.”

“I don’t.”

I lift up and look him in the eyes, about to call him a liar when I see his smirk on his face. “You know, it would be best if we don’t lie to each other, Bennett. Being that you’re my only friend in San Francisco, I can’t possibly afford your deceit.”

He chuckles. “Sorry, would you like me to tell you just how often I get myself off?”