The line in front of me has steadily moved forward, one guy after the other being shown off on stage like a piece of meat. Now that I’m actually paying attention, I’m not sure what’s worse. Hunter openly flirting with my sister while I’m standing right next to them, or Cade Hartley—quarterback for the San Francisco Bears—strutting down the stage like he owns it.
Wait a second, did Cade just . . .?
Yup, he just shook his ass like he’s a damn Chippendale. And of course, the crowd’s eating it up, those paddles hitting the air like bras at a fucking boy-band concert.
And it’s almost my turn. Well, they’ll be in for a big disappointment, especially after that little show. My minute on stage won’t be anything like his.
I zone out this madness while still dutifully keeping up with the line.
Deep breath in. Deep breath out.
This is for a good cause. This is for a good cause.
Yet again, the words turn into a chant in my head until someone slaps my ass.
I don’t need to turn to know it’s Hunter, who’s already leaning closer to whisper in my ear.
“Your turn, Noah. Show ’em how it’s done, tiger.” He and my sister chuckle and I ignore them.
After another deep inhale that does absolutely nothing to calm my irritation, I make my way up to the stage and to the host.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Noah Winters. Our very own star swimmer and Olympic gold medalist. Insider sources tell us he’s also a master in the kitchen, knows how to rev up your engine, and enjoys getting a good sweat in.” He wiggles his eyebrows and the crowd eats it up, cheering and catcalling.
Master in the kitchen? Since when?
I send a silent promise of revenge to my sister that will most likely be happening in the form of obnoxiously loud and super messy toys for her boys at the next chance I get. The sooner, the better. Maybe I’ll go online the second I get done here to place a big order.
The crowd calms down and the host proceeds to the actual bidding part. I lose track of the bids as I scan the crowd with my hands deep in my pockets and a scowl on my face. I'm not really looking for anything or anyone specific, but I stop when my eyes find the gorgeous mystery woman I saved from that asshole earlier.
That dude clearly couldn’t take a hint if it hit him straight in the face. And there was no way I could stand by and watch him bother her, especially when it looked like he’d put his hands on her. No way in hell.
And well, well, well . . . look at that. Her arm is in the air, that paddle as high as it can go. She’s bidding on me. Maybe this night won’t be as boring as I thought. Keep that arm up, Mystery Girl.
The host yells, “Going, going, gone,” before he sends me off the stage to wait for further instructions. Hopefully, someone will enlighten me soon as I need to find my sister. My mystery woman made it a little better but still . . . The auction is for a good cause, sure, but a little warning would have been nice.
Naturally, she’s disappeared.
Instead, I’m forced to watch Hunter make a fool of himself on stage, striking poses and flexing for the crowd. His bidding goes on for what feels like hours, but I’m unable to tell who won with so many people—mostly women—having pushed closer for a good look.
Just like I haven’t been able to see where my mystery woman has gone.
I was hoping to talk to her some more after Daisy barged in on our conversation. I don’t even know her name, but it seems like I will get my chance now after all. Unless seeing her win my bid was a mirage of wishful thinking on my part.
There was something about her, something that drew me in. It doesn’t surprise me that I found her in the crowd, yet I’m surprised how eager I suddenly am to go on our “date.”
I haven’t felt like that for years.
A woman—Debbie, according to her name tag—comes up to me and explains the reservations at different restaurants for the winners and that mine will take place next Saturday at Skates On The Bay, down by the marina. The highest bidder was already informed and will meet me there at six o’clock.
Debbie gives me a look that I think means I’m excused, but I’m not ready to leave just yet. “What’s the winner’s name?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Winters. I can’t disclose that. I think she’s trying to maintain the secrecy, which sounds like you’re in for a fun night.”
Although Debbie’s words are polite, I sense that she’s not really wanting to spend time educating a swimmer on the etiquette of bachelor auctions.
It’s times like these that I need Hunter. He knows how to put the flirty on. “It will be a little strange turning up at the restaurant not knowing who will be there to meet me, don’t you think, Debbie?”
She chuckles. “I hear you, and I’m sorry, but she asked if we could keep her name confidential at this moment. Actually, she was quite specific about it.”
What the hell? Debbie smiles a sheepish smile and apologizes again. I can’t be mad at her. It’s for charity, Winters.
After I say goodbye, I spot my sister across the room and hurry through the crowd to get to her, grabbing her arm gently before she can disappear again. “Look who we’ve got here.”
Her eyes go wide. “Oh hey. You looked great up there, and your auction went super well. Congratulations.”
What a bunch of horse shit.
The mask is hiding most of her face, but I’m ninety-nine percent sure her right eyebrow is doing that traitorous twitchy thing it always does when she’s nervous or when she lies.
I point my thumb to the side of the expansive room that offers more privacy. Her shoulders slump and she sighs dramatically.
When we’re away from prying eyes and ears, I face her. “Want to tell me what the hell you were thinking signing me up for this bachelor auction? I’d have happily written an extra check instead of standing up there.”
She blows a long breath through her lips. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. But you’ve been so lonely lately, and I wanted to help.”
I scowl at her. “Why on earth would you think I’m lonely?”
“Noah, you’re hanging out with the boys and me more than usual.” Daisy takes a step closer and touches my arm, her voice lower than before. Soothing.
My mouth opens but she holds up a finger.
“Let me finish. We all love you. Mason and Alex say you’re their best friend—the best uncle—in the whole wide world, and I appreciate your support so much since Daniel and I divorced. But if you spend all of your time with us, how are you ever going to find someone special?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t need anyone special.”
“I think you do though, and I think you know it too.” Her voice is so gentle, I hate it.
Because I’m not looking for anyone.
I don’t want anyone.
I don’t need anyone.
I haven’t needed anyone.
Not since that night ten years ago.
Three
Chloe
“He won’t know what hit him.” My mom’s mouth curves into what can only be called an indulgent mother’s smile as she stares back at me in the mirror—unapologetically blind and sweetly optimistic.