# CHAPTER 23: The Smile That Gives It All Away
Hello everyone, it's me again! How are you all doing? Today I will continue to walk with you and review CHAPTER 23 of "Just for the Plot." Grab your favorite drink, get cozy, and let me tell you a story about a man who cannot stop smiling, a very nosy teammate, a next move that’s bolder than a grand slam, and a book club that’s about to change everything. Ready? Let’s dive in.
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Bennett was grinning like a fool. There was no other way to put it. His cheeks actually ached from how wide his smile had grown. And try as he might, he couldn't wipe it off his face. It just... stayed there, stubborn and ridiculous.
Nolan noticed immediately, of course. Nothing got past Nolan.
"Why the smile?" Nolan asked, plopping down next to Bennett as Asher warmed up in the batting cages.
"Am I smiling?" Bennett tried to play it cool.
"Big time," Nolan said, pulling a toothpick from his pocket and sliding it between his teeth like some kind of detective with no filter.
"Didn't think I was," Bennett said, and then he felt his cheeks stretch even further. A smile. A huge, uncontrollable smile.
"You're still doing it. You're smiling."
"Can't I smile while watching Asher hit?"
Asher didn't even look at him. His voice was gruff, a "take-no-prisoners" tone that could probably scare grown men. "No."
Nolan gestured at Asher like he'd proven some sort of point. "See? You're making the scary man uncomfortable. So either cut the smile or tell me why the hell you look like a goddamn clown."
Bennett kept his voice low. "Things might have gone a little further with Bower."
Nolan didn't waste a second. He slapped a hand to Bennett's chest and shouted, "Shut the fuck up. Did you bang her?"
"Dude."
Asher, meanwhile, looked absolutely done with both of them, gripping his bat like he was ready to use it—not for hitting baseballs, but perhaps for hitting two very annoying teammates over the head with it. "Can you two fucking leave?"
Bennett got up and headed into the hallway, thinking the conversation was over. But no—Nolan stayed exactly where he was, crossing one leg over the other and playing with the toothpick in his mouth. So Bennett spread his hands wide. "What the fuck, man? Do you want me to come with you?" Nolan was clearly clueless about the social cue.
"I don't know. Bathroom?"
Asher's voice thundered from the cages. "Get the fuck out of here." He was gripping his bat so hard it looked like he'd snap it over Nolan's head.
"Jesus," Nolan said, finally getting up. He muttered over his shoulder, "Get laid, man." Then he joined Bennett in the hallway and leaned against the wall. "He's such a dick. You shouldn't let him push you around like that."
"I'm giving him space."
"He doesn't need space; the dude needs friends." Nolan dropped his voice to a whisper, leaning in conspiratorially. "Can't trust guys with no friends. Like, what the fuck does he do with his spare time? Work out? Have you seen his forearms? They're like fucking bazookas."
"He has friends, doesn't he?"
Nolan shook his head. "Nah, he's always been a loner. He just needs some fucking love on his dick. He never goes out after games, he never—"
"Maybe he has a girl at home that no one knows about. Also, why do we care?"
"You're the one who asked."
"I didn't ask anything."
"Whatever, dude, I'm getting bored. Why are we out here?"
Bennett sighed. He was almost as exhausting as OC. "You were asking why I was smiling."
"Right." Nolan flicked his toothpick into a trash can, then pulled a green Lifesaver out of his pocket—seriously, did the man just collect mints and candy from every hostess stand he passed? Was an Andes mint next?—and popped it into his mouth. "So, did you bang her?" He propped a foot against the wall and crossed his arms, waiting.
"No. But I did do something else."
"And that is..." Nolan motioned with his hand like a game show host.
"I don't feel comfortable talking about it. I don't want to invade her privacy like that."
"For fuck's sake, I'm your therapist. You can tell me."
"You're not my therapist."
"Your sex therapist."
"Also no."
"Fine." Nolan shrugged dramatically. "I'm the asshole who helped you get to where you are now. And if you don't fucking tell me, I'm going to find a way to get her number and text her myself."
Bennett knew Nolan wouldn't actually do that. But he also knew Nolan *could*. And knowing his friend's chaotic energy, it was probably safest just to confess. He leaned in quietly, voice barely above a whisper. "We were reading books... and I fingered her."
Nolan slowly nodded. "Nice."
That was it? *Nice*? Bennett blinked. "That's all you have to say? 'Nice'?"
"I'm not about to be some giddy asshole. Good job fingering her, man. Maybe next time you can use your dick."
"Are you serious right now? You've been a part of this fucking pursuit from the beginning."
"Was I, though? Didn't you start liking her at sixteen?"
Bennett dragged his hand down his face. "Never mind. Jesus, way to ruin a good thing." He started to walk away.
Nolan grabbed his shoulder. "What's next?"
"Tuh?"
"With her." Nolan rolled his eyes dramatically, like Bennett was the dumbest person alive. "What's next with her?"
"I don't know."
"You have to have a plan. You can't just wing this."
"I have so far, and it seems to be paying off."
Nolan shook his head. "You lucked out, man. She dry-humped you, and that was pure fucking luck and wine, and you know it. You took your chances and fingered her—can't stand the term by the way—and that seemed to pan out. The next move is the most important move."
Bennett hated to admit it, but Nolan had a point. He'd been winging it, honestly. The dry-humping had been a lucky roll of the dice, aided by wine and chemistry. And the fingering? That was a bold move, one she allowed. But now the real pressure was on. The next step mattered more than any other.
"So, what is it going to be?" Nolan nudged him. "You dry-humped her, you fingered her. Now you can go all the way and shove your dick in her, or you can take the half step before that."
"What's the half step?" Bennett asked.
Nolan rolled his eyes as if Bennett were a certified moron. "Eat her out, man."
Then, as if the conversation were finished, Nolan patted him on the chest, pushed off the wall, and walked away just as Asher exited the cages. "I've got next!" Nolan called out.
Eat her out? Bennett's head spun. Would she even allow that? He wanted to, desperately. The thought alone lit a fire in him. But that was a huge step. Huge. Wouldn't kissing her be easier than that? More natural? Less terrifying?
He chased after Nolan, who was already loosening up in the cages.
"What about a kiss?" Bennett asked through the net. "Wouldn't that be better?"
Nolan shook his head, got into his stance, and grounded out the first pitch. He swore under his breath and loosened his arms. "No, my man. A kiss is intimate. That's easily last. Use your lips... on her lips."
He swung again, cracking the ball up the middle.
"It's the only way. Trust me on this."
"I trusted you on Cougar," Bennett countered.
"Yeah, and look at where that got your fingers. Right in her pussy. You're welcome."
Bennett supposed that was one way to look at it.
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The next day, Bennett was exhausted. The game last night had gone into extra innings, and they'd lost—a tough loss, especially now that they were on the edge of making the playoffs. Every game mattered. Every single one. He was still mentally replaying the missed opportunities when Gretchen strolla up to him and plopped a manila folder onto the table in front of him.
"Look at this," she said.
Bennett stared at it flatly. "It's a manila folder."
"Don't be a smart-ass. Flip it open."
Groaning—because he was absolutely not in the mood for Gretchen's theatrics—he flipped open the folder. And his eyes nearly popped out of his head.
It was a write-up on Books with Bombers. Social media handles. Pictures. Followers.
"What the hell?" Bennett said, zeroing in on the number. "Is that really ten thousand followers on Instagram?"
"It is," she said proudly. "And about ninety-eight percent of them are women."
"Probably because I'm reading romance."
"That and because you're nice to look at."
He scoffed. "Give them more credit than that."
"True. Apparently, the first book you recommended is a well-known start of a series. Many comments from readers looking for a space to talk about it. Which is why I need to set up a date with you that would work to have a book club night. We're also coming up with merch that we can ship out to the first one hundred members who join your Patreon."
"Don't people have to pay for that? I don't want to make money off anyone."
"Technically no, but we're going to have a pay tier."
"What? No." Bennett shook his head firmly. "I'm not taking money from people."
"Calm down." Gretchen sat down in the seat across from him. "All proceeds will be donated to one of the foster care charities you work with. I just need you to pick which one, or you can divvy up the money to all three. Up to you."
"Oh." Bennett leaned his forearms on the table, suddenly interested. "Will they be told that's where the money will be going?"
She nodded. "Yes. If you would like to add a backstory, you can. Up to you. I know you like to keep that side of your life private, although I think it would be helpful to bring awareness—but again, that's totally up to you."
This was the thing about Gretchen that always caught him off guard. Just when he thought she was the bad guy, she showed her heart. She wasn't the bad guy with Maple and Graydon. She wasn't the bad guy here. Under all those black pantsuits and that slicked-back hair, she really cared.
"Let me think on it."
"Fair enough." She cleared her throat. "Now, I plan on partnering with a local bookstore, preferably indie, so we can also support small business. I'm still looking around, trying to see which one would be the best fit, but—"
"I have one."
"Really?" She crossed one leg over the other. "Which one?"
"Uh, well, it's still kind of in the works, but I know it'll be amazing."
"What do you mean... in the works?"
"Don't worry about it." Bennett stood from the table and rapped his knuckles on the surface. "Good talk, though. Have to get ready for the game."
"When will you tell me the store? I have to keep this going. We have traction, Bennett."
"I know. Just... let me feel it out first. I can chat next week."
And without another word, he took off, pulling his phone from his pocket as he headed toward the locker room. He hadn't imagined this thing would blow up. But now that it had legs, he thought they should run with it. And he had the perfect way to do that.
His smile grew wider as he thought about how great this could be. He shot off a text.
**Bennett:** *I need to talk to you tonight. Coming to your apartment after the game. Super important.*
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And oh, what a magnificent story this chapter was! Let me just say—the banter between Bennett and Nolan is absolute gold. Their friendship is hilarious, inappropriate, and somehow deeply endearing at the same time. Nolan's confidence in Bennett's "next move" is both ridiculous and completely convincing. And the way Bennett is already dreaming about the bookstore that doesn't even exist yet? My heart. This chapter perfectly balances grubby locker-room humor with the sweet, hopeful pulse of a man falling deeper and deeper in love. The fact that Bennett cares so much about the fundraiser and supporting indie bookstores says everything about his character. And that final text? I'm practically vibrating with excitement to see what happens when he shows up at Bower's apartment.
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**Reader's Impressions & Star Rating:** This chapter had me grinning like a fool right along with Bennett. The baseball-cage banter was pure entertainment, and the emotional layers—Bennett's guardedness, his genuine kindness under the athlete exterior, and the growing intensity of his connection with Bower—were beautifully written. Gretchen continues to be a fascinating mix of corporate shark and secret softie. And the book club plot is taking off in ways I did not see coming! I could feel Bennett's nervousness, his hope, and that reckless thrill of wanting someone so much you're willing to take the scariest step.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Rating: 4.9 / 5 Stars
**Next Chapter Prediction:** Bennett is heading to Bower's apartment after the game with a big announcement on his mind. I predict he's going to ask her to partner with him on the book club at the future indie bookstore—which means he'll have to tell her about the dream he's been quietly building. But with that "super important" text, there's tension in the air. Will he finally go for that kiss—or follow Nolan's ridiculous advice and take things even further? I have a feeling Bower won't make it easy for him. And maybe she'll shock him with a confession of her own.
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