Page 72 of Just for the Plot

“I can help.”

“Bennett.” I tip my head to the side. “No, you have done enough. You shouldn’t even be here right now, but I’m being a baby.”

“Benefits me.” He moves into the bathroom, where he plucks my toothpaste from the corner of my counter.

“How does this benefit you?” I ask.

Smirking, he says, “When I go out of town, I won’t feel guilty asking you to do shit for me.”

“At this point, I’m going to be in your debt for at least a decade.”

“Just the way I like it.” He winks and then turns back to the mirror, where he brushes his teeth.

With that, I go to my closet, where my clothes are strewn all over, and I grab a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized T-shirt before heading back into the bathroom, where Bennett is finishing up.

“Um, can you help me with my dress?” I turn my back toward him and feel his body move closer to mine, the heat of it overwhelming as his hand falls to my hip.

Chills break out over my skin as he slowly raises his other hand to the zipper of my dress.

What the hell is going on with me?

“Sure,” he says softly and then slowly…and I mean, slowly, tugs down the zipper of my dress, one tine at a time, before it’s all the way undone, my dress barely hanging on as I turn back around to face him, his eyes lasering in on me, the light blue almost looking dark.

“Um…thank you,” I say, my voice going dry for some reason.

“Anytime,” he says and then moves past me and heads toward my mattress on the floor.

I quickly shut the bathroom door and set my clothes down, taking a deep breath.

What the hell was that?

He unzipped my dress and my body is acting like he just licked every inch of my skin.

I take a few more deep breaths, steadying myself before I get ready for bed, taking care of my makeup and making sure to spend some extra time scrubbing my face and applying my lotion so I can gather myself.

Once I’m ready, I turn off the light and head into the bedroom, where Bennett has lost his shirt. I spot it folded neatly next to the mattress…along with his sweatpants.

Oh God, why does that make things…different?

I don’t know. It just does. Then again, he probably doesn’t want to sleep in bulky sweatpants. I don’t blame him.

“Figured this is the side that was open, given your things were on the other.”

“Yup, you guessed correctly,” I say as I feel my nerves humming, which is so weird, because this kind of stuff has never bothered me before. I’m usually unfazed about everything, and yet, Bennett in my bed, in nothing but his underwear, has my mind whirling and my body buzzing.

Which needs to stop.

This is not a big deal.

This is just two friends seeking comfort. Or perhaps one friend seeking comfort from another friend.

Either way, get your life together, Bower.

I move to my side of the bed, slip under the covers—with help from Bennett, of course, because that’s the kind of guy he is—and then I turn off the light and face him.

“My bed isn’t as comfortable as yours.”

“Well, you could have stayed at my place, but you forced me to follow you.”