Page 80 of Just for the Plot

“I think my body is trying to tell you something.” She laughs, but it almost sounds like a scared laugh.

“Good to know.” Not wanting to go much further with her, because I think I got what I wanted with that comment, I say, “Okay, I’m headed to bed.”

“Right, me too, now that you won’t let me use your tools.”

“Tomorrow, you and me. It’s a date, okay?”

I hear the smallest intake of breath as she says, “Okay.”

“Night, Bower. Sweet dreams.”

“Umm…night, Bennett.”

I hang up, set my phone down, and then grip my goddamn cock. Because if there is one thing I know for sure, hearing that little gasp at the end of that phone call, it made me hard as stone.

CHAPTER 14

BOWER

This was a terrible idea.

A morning date?

There is nothing pleasant about this.

Because he has to be at the stadium at seven this morning, we’re meeting at a smoothie bar close by at five thirty.

Five thirty!

No one looks cute at five thirty, me included.

I dragged my half-dead carcass out of bed at four forty-five, blasted my face with cold water, praying my eye bags away, and then threw on some tinted moisturizer and a touch of blush, and then apologized to my eyes as I coated them in mascara.

The hair, well, it’s currently propped up on the top of my head in a mess, secured by a clip.

And the outfit, it’s the best he’ll get from me. Leggings, an oversized off-the-shoulder sweater, and—as the British would say—a smart pair of trainers.

No idea why I’m channeling the British at the moment other than the fact that I’m delirious and want my pillow.

My Uber drops me off at the smoothie bar, and I stumble out of the car with a thanks and right myself on the sidewalk. From the window, I can see Cougar sitting at a bar-height table with two smoothies. He asked for my order ahead of time, which I thought was considerate.

Adjusting my top to show off a little more shoulder, I head into the smoothie bar and right to him. He’s on his phone, but when he looks up and spots me, he lifts off his chair and comes up to me, placing a kiss on my cheek in greeting.

“I’m surprised you’re here,” he says.

I try to hide my exhaustion and slap on a smile instead. “Did you think I was going to stand you up?”

“Not many women would meet at five thirty in the morning for a date.”

“Well”—I take a seat—“I’m not like many women.”

“I see that.” He smirks and hands me my smoothie. “Berry blast with whey protein.”

“Thank you.” I take a sip and let the cold of the smoothie attempt to wake me up. Should have ordered the coffee one. What was I thinking?

Clearly I wasn’t thinking at all.

“So, what have you been up to since I last saw you?” he asks.