Page 6 of Just for the Plot

“So how’s the zoo going?”

I sigh and tip my recliner back as well. The rest of the team is milling about. We have hours before the game, so we’re all just hanging out, doing our own thing.

“The whole thing is so dumb.”

“Yeah, having to do PR for a team that cheated when you weren’t around, that shit sucks.”

He’s right. It does suck.

When I was in the minors, the Bombers were caught cheating, stealing signs from other teams and relaying them. It was a huge fuckup, and the Bombers have paid the price dearly. And because I wasn’t on the team at the time, but one of the fresh, young faces of a brand-new era, I was chosen as the player to help the Bombers with their PR image. And can you imagine, the Bombers were not the only ones dealing with a PR problem in San Francisco?

Nope, the Foghorns, which is the football team, and the Rogue, San Francisco’s brand-new hockey expansion team, needed a lift in image as well. So they plucked me, Graydon St. John from the Foghorns, and Oden “OC” O’Connor from the Rogue to try to boost morale and improve San Fran’s besmirched sports teams’ reputations.

So far, not sure it’s helping. Although, Graydon started a social media presence with his zookeeper and that has taken off. So maybe it’s working for him, but for me, not so much.

“I think the zoo thing is not reaching the way they wanted it to, and I’m thinking about suggesting I do something else, because as much fun as it is hanging out with the lions, I don’t see the impact.”

“Sounds like a fucking bust.” Nolan takes another bite of his burrito and moans. “Fuck me. This is better than the blow job I got last night.”

I glance at him and he smirks.

“Nah, that’s a lie. The blow job was phenomenal.”

Shaking my head, I go to take another bite just as my phone buzzes in my pocket with a text. I wipe my fingers on one of the napkins Nolan gave me with the burrito and then grab my phone, where I see a text from Bower.

My stupid fucking heart trips all over itself from the sight of her name.

I live to see her name pop up on my phone, beg for it every single day because that’s how desperate of a motherfucker I am. And I wait for her to text, because if I allowed myself to text her, to start the conversation, then it would be every hour of the goddamn day.

And it would be texts like…

Can I take you out on a date?

Please tell me you’re not seeing anyone.

When will you see me as the man I am and not Gabby’s little brother?

See? Desperation.

Not hiding my excitement, I set my burrito on the coffee table in front of me and open her text.

Bower:Hey, Benny Boo Boo, what are you up to?

She’s the only one allowed to call me that, and it’s only because I don’t want to tell her not to. OC tried calling me that once and I shut it down really quick.

Bennett:Eating a breakfast burrito in the locker room. How about you?

Bower:Apartment hunting.

Bennett:What’s wrong with your apartment now?

“Why are you smiling like that?” Nolan asks while poking my face.

“Like what?” I ask, attempting to hide my smile, but it’s no use.

“Like you’re about to come in your pants.”

I raise a brow. “How do you know what I look like when I’m about to come in my pants?”