Page 32 of Just for the Plot
He pauses and glances at me, a question heavy on his breath.
“I know.” I roll my eyes. “That would never happen, but for a second I thought it did, and I panicked until I realized that, in fact, we didn’t do anything.”
“No, we did not,” he says, before sitting down and undoing the foil of his breakfast tacos.
“Gabby would have had a heart attack. Probably disown me.”
“You think so?” he asks, looking genuinely curious.
Oh yeah, sleeping with her brother would be a huge slap in the face of the promise I made her.
“Of course she would. I don’t think she’d be happy at all if her best friend slept with her younger brother of eight years. That’s grounds for divorce.”
“You two aren’t married.”
“Spiritually, we are. You weren’t invited to the wedding.” I wave my hand at him. “It was more of a two-person thing. Either way, glad we kept our clothes on.”
“Yeah, good thing,” he says and then takes a bite of his taco. He chews for a moment and says, “But when I’m gone, feel free to sleep in my bed.”
The temptation is real, because I don’t think I’ve slept that well in quite a long time. I want to say it’s the mattress-sheet combination that had me dozing off without a second thought. Not the man I slept on.
Definitely not the man.
But…my place should be ready.
Although, one more night won’t kill me.
“I might take you up on that.”
He smirks and then says, “Speaking of last night, were you serious about the book club thing?”
“Uh, yeah. More than serious. I want a reading buddy, and if you’re up for it, I’d love for it to be you.”
He nods. “Okay, because I was thinking of a possible idea that could help me with this zoo business.”
“You came up with an idea at this hour? After nearly drinking the night away? Are you made of metal or something?”
“Clearly not if I woke you up from stubbing my toe.”
I chuckle. “True, but still, how could you possibly have come up with an idea already and this is your first cup of coffee?”
“Built differently.”
“Apparently.” I finally take a bite of my taco and moan as the bacon’s grease hits me in the right spot. “Oh motherfucker, that’s great.” I slap the table and stare down at my taco. “Dear God, if you were a human, my tongue would be down your throat right about now.”
“Uh…do you two need a room?”
“Quite possibly.” I moan again as I continue to chew. “This is marvelous. A-plus. Compliments to the chef. Give me ten more.”
“Seriously? Do you want me to order you some more, because I can.”
I shake my head, even though it’s tempting. “No, this is great. Thank you.” I pull my hungry eyes away from my taco for a moment and say, “So, you had an idea.”
“Yes,” he says while wiping his face with a napkin. “I was thinkingthat I could work this book thing into the whole PR debacle that we have going on.”
“Can you explain the PR thing to me? I feel like it’s not making a lot of sense.”
“Sure. So San Francisco has three major sporting teams: the Foghorns, which is football, the Rogue, which is hockey, and then there’s the Bombers. The Foghorns haven’t been able to see a playoff game in I want to say ten years. They’re losing the spirit of their fan base and quickly. The Rogue are a new expansion team that’s filled with every unlikable player throughout the league and led by owners who just want to win, so they signed problematic but skillful players. The only one who is not problematic is OC. The city doesn’t seem to agree with the team right now, giving them a lack of fan base. And then of course, you know about the Bombers’ cheating history before I was on the team.”
