# CHAPTER 26: The Weight of a Confession
Hello everyone, it's me again! How are you all doing? Today I will continue to walk with you and review CHAPTER 26 of "Just for the Plot." Oh, my dear readers, this chapter is a rollercoaster of raw emotions, heartfelt confessions, and the delicious tension of two souls dancing around the inevitable. Let me take you by the hand and guide you through every heart-wrenching, flutter-inducing moment.
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## The Morning After
The shrill cry of Bennett's alarm tore through the quiet of the early morning, startling Bower awake from where she had been sleeping so peacefully on his chest. Five thirty in the morning. An ungodly hour if there ever was one, but for Bennett, it meant an early flight and another day on the road.
"Shit," he grumbled, fumbling for his phone to silence the intrusion. "Fuck, I'm sorry. Early plane this morning."
"It's fine," Bower mumbled into his chest, his hand tracing soothing patterns up and down her side. "I get it."
But as she slowly lifted herself up, the ache of having stayed in one position all night settling into her back, she knew she needed to leave. Bennett tugged at her hand, offering her the chance to stay, but Bower shook her head. She needed to get back to her place, take a shower, and face the day—even if the day was the last thing she wanted to face.
"It's fine," she insisted. "I should get back."
"Bower, it's five thirty."
"It's fine."
She slid out of bed, gathering her phone and keys from the nightstand, feeling utterly lost in a space she'd only just begun to know. But before she could reach the door, Bennett was there, right in front of her, those sultry eyes searching hers with an intensity that made her breath catch.
"Bower, please don't pull away."
And there it was—that pull she'd been fighting for weeks. The one she'd tried to mask as friendship but had finally admitted to herself was something far more profound. Lust. Yearning. The desperate need for so much more from him.
"Even if I tried," she confessed, wetting her lips, "I know I couldn't pull away. I'm drawn to you."
The relief that washed through him was almost palpable as he tugged her into a hug and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
"We'll work through this," he promised. "Promise, okay? Just trust me."
She nodded, even though uncertainty churned in her stomach.
He walked her to the door, offering to accompany her to her apartment, but she declined. He needed to get ready. She needed to breathe. With a final squeeze of his hand and a tight smile, she said goodbye.
"Safe travels, Bennett."
He released her hand with visible pain, and she headed home—taking the stairs because the elevator would have been too slow, too confining. When she finally reached her apartment, she went straight to her bed, buried her face in her pillow, and let everything go.
She sobbed until there were no tears left.
Because how could something that felt so, so right also feel so incredibly wrong?
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## The Weight of Confusion
Days passed, and Bower found herself drowning in a sea of confused thoughts. She sat in front of her computer, staring at book trucks she'd been considering purchasing for her dream business, but she couldn't string together a single coherent thought. Everything felt muddled. Out of place. Not right.
She was itching on the inside but burning on the outside.
Disappointed in herself yet thrilled at the same time.
Concerned for her friendship but dying to talk to her friend.
The pressure kept building until she crashed and cried. Three times, to be exact. Twice she'd managed to hide it at Adalade's house, but the third time had happened right in the middle of the coffee shop. At least no one had seen it—the last thing she wanted was to explain her emotional chaos to anyone.
So there she sat, alone, attempting to hold onto the promise she'd made to herself but couldn't quite figure out how to keep—when a familiar voice interrupted her spiraling thoughts.
"What are the chances of running into you here?"
Bower glanced up to find Cougar standing before her, an iced latte in hand and a grin on his impossibly handsome face.
"Cougar," she said, genuinely surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"Grabbing some caffeine in between practice and film review." He nodded toward the empty seat, and when she gestured for him to sit, he dropped into the chair with that familiar slouch. "What about you?"
"Attempting to get some work done."
"Attempting, huh?" He raised an eyebrow. "Why does that sound like you're not getting anything done?"
"Because you'd be right about that."
"That seems like shit." He nodded toward her computer. "What are you doing? Maybe I can help."
A chuckle escaped her, the sound foreign to her own ears. Could she really laugh right now? But who says that? Who offers to help someone with their work? Cougar, that's who.
She turned her computer toward him and explained her mission: picking out a book truck. His eyes zeroed in on the screen with passionate interest, and she couldn't help but smile.
"What the fuck are these things?"
"They're called mini trucks, and their beds are converted to have shelves in the back."
He scrolled through the page, utterly fascinated. "How the fuck do I get one?"
"Cougar," she laughed. "You're too big to drive one of those. You'd never fit."
"The hell I wouldn't. I could get one of these and hand out signed jerseys from the back. It could be the merch mobile." His eyes lit up with absurd excitement. "The Cougar mobile. Fuck, sweetheart, this has to happen. I can get it wrapped to look like a cougar as well. This one, right here. Perfect. Give me ten of them."
"Oh my God, you're so ridiculous."
"Ridiculous or genius?" he countered.
"Ridiculous."
He shook his head, sipping his drink. "You're hating because you're jealous."
"I'm telling the truth because there's no way you could drive that thing, let alone hand out merch. You'd be mauled by fans."
"I see no problem with that. Got to love all the love."
And just like that, Bower found herself laughing. Truly laughing. Because there was nothing complicated about Cougar. He was unapologetically himself—all surface, no depth, but sometimes that was exactly what she needed. A mindless conversation with someone who cared more about his reflection than the words on a page.
He asked why she needed the truck, and after swearing he wouldn't make fun, she confessed: a book truck. Like a food truck, but for books.
"Is that a thing?" he asked, genuinely stunned. "Like... people read?"
Oh, Cougar.
"Yes, they read. It's actually quite popular."
"Really? Do you read?"
"I do. Do you not read?"
"Sweetheart, I can't tell you the last time I even picked up a book that wasn't a playbook. Not even sure I can read at this point."
"You can read."
"Doubtful. I don't think I have the attention span to complete a book."
"It does require attention to finish one."
"The only reason I haven't drifted off during this conversation is because, well, for one, you taught me about mini trucks, and two, you're hot to look at."
"I'm flattered that my hotness can keep your attention," she smirked.
"You're welcome," he said, tipping his drink toward her.
Unbeknownst to him, this was exactly what she needed. A pointless, ridiculous, wonderful conversation with a man who had no depth to offer. She understood now why she'd never felt chills or goosebumps around Cougar. He was hot as hell, yes. But she craved substance—something Cougar simply didn't have.
She'd made a friend, and she was okay with that.
Before he left, he offered to meet again tomorrow, help her pick colors, maybe convince her to come to one of his games. She laughed him off, but when he suggested the Foghorn colors for her truck, they bantered playfully about pink versus team colors.
"If anyone can do it, it's me. See you tomorrow, sweetheart."
And then he was gone, leaving Bower to wonder: had she just agreed to another date with Cougar?
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## The Reluctant Text
Bennett: How was your day?
Bower stared at the text for the fifth time, knowing she needed to respond. She'd promised him she wouldn't push away or disappear, and God, wouldn't that be easy? It would be painful—her body would hate her—but her mind and heart would appreciate the escape.
But she couldn't be that person. Gabby would hate her even more if she didn't treat her brother with the respect he deserved.
So she took a deep breath and typed back.
Bower: Pretty decent, how about yours?
A lie, but telling him she'd cried three times because she was so confused by her thoughts and feelings didn't seem like a great opening line.
Instead of texting back, he called.
Of course he would. He always did.
"Hello?" she answered, slapping on a smile he couldn't even see.
"Hey, Bower," he said, his voice deep and sultry, as if he were talking to her shirtless and in bed.
"Umm... hi," she said awkwardly, because—well, she'd nearly sucked the man's dick off last night, and just from the sound of his voice, she wanted to do it again. And again. And fuck... again.
"Oh no, you're not going to make this awkward, are you?" he teased.
"You're the one who called when we were texting. If anyone made it awkward, it was you."
"Sorry that I'd prefer to hear your voice."
"Apology accepted."
He chuckled, and she could practically feel the rumble of his chest from here. It took everything in her to keep her legs closed.
"There she is. See, it doesn't need to be awkward between us."
"Bennett, I sucked you so hard I made you squeal. It will always be awkward."
His laugh turned into a full belly laugh, and she felt herself smiling. "I did not fucking squeal, despite wanting to badly."
"I could sense the squeal when I started playing with your balls."
"That's what happens when a man has never been touched there before."
She gasped. "Seriously?"
"Seriously. You were my first."
"I oddly take pride in that. I can't believe no one has ever played with your balls before. God, it's one of my favorite things to do. I love edging."
"I could tell. Fucking made me black out, beautiful."
"Yeah, well, just repaying the favor," she said, feeling shy. Talking about this was somehow making it feel more real, more in the open. Maybe that was for the best.
"Why didn't you let me repay the favor last night?" he asked.
"Afraid I'd want more."
"What the fuck is wrong with that?"
She pressed her lips together, leaning her head back against the couch. "I think more would lead to kissing, and we haven't kissed yet because, well... that seems intimate. Like crossing the line. Which seems ridiculous in the grand scheme of things. I mean, your dick was in my throat last night, but kissing? That's... that's growing a relationship."
"And that scares you?"
"It does."
"And you were afraid if I returned the favor, that's where it would have led?"
"I know it would have, especially since my control around you is wafer thin."
"Maybe that would be a good reason to let loose and kiss me."
She shook her head even though he couldn't see her. "No, I can't."
"Not yet?" he asked.
"I don't know. I can't think about it. I'm taking this one day at a time."
One minute at a time, if she was being honest.
He asked if she'd been nervous about them going all the way, and she admitted yes. But he was so patient, so understanding.
"Bower, I get it. And I don't want you feeling like I'm pressuring you."
"I don't feel that at all. Not even a little."
"Good. Tell me if you ever do."
"I will." She let out a deep sigh. "God, I don't want to talk about this. I've thought about it all day and I'm just fried at this point. Can you... can you tell me something stupid?"
"Something stupid?" He paused, thinking. "Let me think... Oh, you know how you asked me if I could set you up with Nolan when you first came out here?"
"Yes."
"Well, good thing I didn't, because he's been wearing a thong every day during his hitting streak, and my guess is, if you two were dating, he'd be dipping into your drawers."
Bower burst out laughing, the weight on her chest lifting slightly. Just what she needed. "He would have gotten his hand slapped. No one touches my underwear but me."
"Yeah? What about me?"
She smiled to herself. "Only when you're pulling it off."
"There's my girl," he said, pure joy in his voice.
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## An Unexpected Ally
The next day, Bower found herself back at the coffee shop, notebook in hand, jotting down the make and model of the two trucks she'd narrowed her choices down to. Both had complimentary reviews. Both would do the job. Now she just had to pick one.
"Interesting. I didn't think you'd show up."
She lifted her gaze to find Cougar standing before her, coffee in hand and what looked like a massive tub of protein powder under his arm. "The store next door was having a mega sale. I might make millions, but I like saving a buck."
He plopped down across from her, setting the garbage can–sized container on the table.
"Why didn't you think I was going to show up? You were the one who interrupted me yesterday. This is my spot. You're just taking over."
He leaned back, studying her with amusement. "You're quite sassy, you know that? Any other woman would be fawning over me right now."
"And what did I say from day one, Cougar? I'm not like every other woman."
"You're right about that." He nodded toward her notebook. "So what do you have going on in there?"
"Picked out two book trucks to choose from."
His eyes lit up, and she turned her screen toward him—the 210 Express or the 1180 Deluxe.
"Oooo, solid choices, solid choices." He examined them carefully. "You know, I can't see where you could go wrong with either of them. Although, the deluxe has those old-timey wheels with the white interiors. That's sick. But they might cost more to replace."
"You think so?"
"Oh, for sure. Any sort of specialty tire will cost you more. So your deciding factor is going to be if you want the fancy, expensive tires for the look, or if you want to go with the express and save money on tires in the long run."
"Huh, I never looked at it that way."
"And that's why I'm here," he said with a cocky but cute attitude.
She explained her vision—the vintage teal wrap, touches of mustard yellow and pink—and when she told him the name, The Whimsy Wagon, his face lit up.
"The Whimsy Wagon. Shit, sweetheart, that's cute."
"You think so?"
"Hell yeah."
She showed him the logo she'd had made months ago, the first time she was sharing it with anyone. He read the tagline aloud: "Whimsy, spice, naughty, and nice. That's solid."
"You like it?"
"Yeah, that shit is good."
She'd prefer he not call it shit, but she understood the sentiment.
He suggested adding a mascot to the logo, something visual rather than just words. She admitted she couldn't come up with a good one.
"Sweetheart, it's right under your nose."
"What? A book?"
He shook his head. "The wagon. Once you pick out the one you want, use The Whimsy Wagon as the mascot. That shit will sell."
Dear God in heaven, he was right.
Something she'd never expected to say about Cougar.
But there he was—a marketing genius.
"And the merch could be so cute," she mused.
"The cutest." He winked and sipped his coffee.
Huh. He'd been surprisingly helpful after all.
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## The Confession
Later that night, Bower's phone buzzed with a text from Bennett.
Bennett: Did you really send me cupcakes?
Bower: Yeah, I don't want you forgetting about me.
Bennett: You really think that's going to happen? You're on my mind all the time.
Bower: Good or bad?
Bennett: Maybe a little bit of both.
Bennett: I guess I'll take it. You're on my mind all the time too.
Bower: Good or bad?
Bennett: Always good.
Bower: I guess that makes me a bad person, huh?
Bennett: No, I know what I've wanted for a very long fucking time, and you're still trying to figure it out.
Bower: What do you mean a very long fucking time?
Her heart raced as she stared at the screen, trying to decipher what he meant, when her phone rang. Of course.
"Is this how it's always going to be?" she answered. "You're going to call instead of text?"
"When I'm desperate to hear your voice, yeah, and that's pretty much all the time."
"Good to know." She headed to her bedroom, flopping back onto the bed Bennett had bought for her. "So, what do you mean a long fucking time?"
"Remember when I told you that I had a crush?"
"Yeah, the main reason why you haven't had a girlfriend all these years."
"Exactly. That crush, Bower... that was you."
What?
No. That couldn't be right.
"Bennett, seriously—"
"I'm being dead serious, Bower. Ever since I met you, I felt... attached, and I know that might freak you out, but I'm willing to risk it at this point to show you how fucking serious I am. This isn't some conquer-my-sister's-best-friend moment. No, this has been an ongoing crush that has only grown stronger and stronger over the years, especially as we started to get closer. And then when you moved here, well, I've just felt itchy and anxious but so fucking excited because I've been able to steal little moments with you. Little moments that have turned into big moments. The kind of moments I never thought would happen."
"Bennett," she said, completely speechless, slightly bamboozled. She was his long-term crush? Could that truly be possible? So all this time he'd been... waiting for her? She was the reason he hadn't dated? And if she was that important to him, why was she so hung up on Cougar? The thought was dizzying. "I... umm, I don't know what to say."
"You don't need to say anything. I just want you to know where I'm at, in case that changes any of the bad things you're thinking about."
Maybe... just a little. Because there was the fear about this just being some sort of fling. What if she grew attached and he ditched her for some younger model? What would she say to Gabby?
"I guess it's, umm, it's nice to know where you stand."
"Ask me anytime. My position isn't going to change."
It was all so overwhelming. Everything with him was overwhelming. Sometimes in a good way, sometimes in a scary way.
"Maybe... maybe it's good that you're on a long road trip," she said, and she could practically hear his disagreement through the silence. "Just so we can give each other a second, you know?"
"Do you need a second?" he asked, trepidation creeping into his voice.
"Honestly, Bennett, I don't know what I need, and I hate that. Because I'm the first person to chastise a heroine in a book for not knowing what she wants when the hero is so incredible. But now that I'm in this situation, I have so much internal conflict, and I'm just trying to figure it all out."
"I get that." He cleared his throat. "Maybe this will help."
Then he hung up on her.
Wait. Seriously?
Did he really just—
Her phone buzzed again. Not with a call. With FaceTime.
Oh.
She sat up in bed and answered. His handsome face came into view, along with his bare, bulky chest. Her mind immediately fell to the feel of him, the comfort he provided, the way she could snuggle into him and feel completely protected from the world.
She let out a dumb sigh and said, "I miss you."
The words stunned her. Because it was the first thing that came to mind. Not the worries. Not the insecurities. Just him. What he represented in her life at the moment. Comfort, joy... relief.
He smiled softly. "Miss you too, beautiful."
That nickname. She'd never been a big nickname person, but with him, it was different. It felt like that word had been held by the universe for him, and the only time it sounded right was when he said it to her.
"Why are you so hot?"
He chuckled, his smile making her yearn all the more. "You think I'm hot, huh?"
"Are you really going to fish for compliments?"
"When you're unsure and thinking things through, absolutely. I have to give myself some solace from the thought of coming back and you not wanting to see me."
"That would never happen."
"You sure about that?" he asked, placing his hand behind his head and flexing the boulder of his bicep.
Ugh. Yum.
"Positive," she said, her eyes roaming over the bits and pieces of skin he was showing off. What she wouldn't give for him to get completely naked and just walk around for her. Or better yet, make himself get hard while she watched...
"What the hell are you thinking about?"
"Huh?" She snapped her attention back to him.
"You're licking your lips and staring."
"Am I?"
"You are. I feel like a piece of meat in front of a starving lion."
"Well, you show up shirtless to a FaceTime and that's how you're going to be treated—like a piece of meat. I'm sure it'd be the same if the situation was reversed."
"Bower, if you showed up to a FaceTime shirtless, there's no way we'd be jabbering away. No, I'd have you playing with yourself in no time."
She pressed her hand to her chest in mock offense. "Phone sex? Honestly, Bennett. Where are your manners?"
"Manners don't exist when the girl you're talking to looks like you."
Her cheeks flamed at the compliment. "Well, that was very... flattering."
"Wasn't looking to flatter you. Was looking to tell the truth."
"I see." She glanced away, his honesty so refreshing compared to anyone else she'd ever dated. Eh. Were they dating? She didn't think so. They were just... seeing what happens, right?
"Why the frown?" he asked. He never let her get away with anything. "Nothing," she lied.
"Do you really think the 'nothing' answer is going to work on me? You should know me better than that."
Ugh. He was right. He'd never let her get away with that.
"Ugh, you're right. So annoying." She wet her lips and then confessed, "This thing between us—is it dating?"
"I'd prefer for it to be, but I don't want to freak you out because we haven't really established any ground rules. But if I had it my way, yes, we would be dating. And I'd take you out to dinner, worship you, and fucking kiss you whenever I want." He dragged his hand down his face, visibly pained. "It's fucking killing me that I haven't kissed you yet."
"You've kissed me in other places."
"Don't fucking remind me. I swear to you there are times when I feel like I can still taste you, and I wind up going hard because of it. Fuck, Bower, I was hard at BP this morning."
"What's BP? Is that a social engagement or something?"
He chuckled. "Batting practice, babe. You know, if you're going to consider dating me, you should really get to know some baseball terms."
"I know enough," she said. "I know that you play third and that you hit the ball hard and far, and that the thing on your hand is a baseball glove."
"Wow, who says you need an education in the sport? You could be teaching the course."
She huffed on her nails and buffed them against her shirt. "You don't need to tell me twice. Sign me up. I'll get all the lemons ready to go for the season, which... Is the season almost over?"
"Yeah, heading into the playoffs in a week and a half."
"Oh wow. Is your team in it?"
"So far, yup."
"Really? Well, that's exciting. And you're going to play third in those games?"
He chuckled, warmth radiating through the screen. "Yeah, beautiful, I'll play third."
"Aww, look at you go. Playing third in the playoffs. You are quite the accomplished man."
"Yeah, if only I could get my sister's best friend to fall for me, then I'd truly be accomplished."
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And there, my dear readers, is where this emotionally charged chapter comes to a close. Bower is caught between the overwhelming truth of Bennett's long-standing confession and her own tangled web of insecurities. The question now hangs in the air like a delicate spider's thread: will she have the courage to reach out and grasp what's been waiting for her all along?
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## Reader's Impressions & Star Rating
Oh, what a beautiful, aching chapter this was! I felt every single emotion right alongside Bower—her confusion, her tears, her moments of unexpected laughter with Cougar, and the way her heart visibly softened every time Bennett's name lit up her phone screen. The confession about his long-term crush was absolutely breathtaking. The vulnerability in his voice, the patience he showed, his willingness to wait for her—it was enough to make this reader's heart turn to complete mush.
And can we talk about Cougar? I never expected him to become a genuinely helpful presence in Bower's life, but his bromance-adjacent show of support had me grinning. The way two completely different men are showing up for her, each in his own way, truly highlights what Bower needs: someone with depth, someone who sees her completely—someone like Bennett.
The phone conversations between Bower and Bennett were masterfully written. The seamless transition from playful banter to raw vulnerability, from dirty talk to tender confessions, captures exactly what makes their connection special. And that ending line—"if only I could get my sister's best friend to fall for me"—was the perfect blend of hope and longing.
**⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Rating: 4.9 / 5 Stars**
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## Next Chapter Prediction
The playoffs are right around the corner, and Bennett is about to return. All those unsaid feelings, that building tension, and the revelation of his years-long crush are bound to explode the moment they're face to face again. Will Bower finally let go of her fears long enough to kiss him—truly kiss him—or will she continue to hold back? And what role will Cougar's unexpected presence play in all of this? I predict a homecoming that will set the air ablaze, filled with confessions, revelations, and possibly the first real kiss we've all been dying to see!
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