Page 3 of The Auction
The second I step out, I can finally breathe.
The music dulls behind me, thumping low through the walls. Out here, it's quiet. Still rowdy in the distance—laughter, the distant clatter of a dropped bottle—but the air is fresher. Cleaner.
Cool enough that the sudden change burns behind my eyes making me blink fast.
Ihatethat I cry when I get angry.
I bite my lip and turn toward the railing, gripping the edge with both hands. I tell myself to get it together. I didn’t come out here to fall apart—I came out here to reset.
Then I feel a warmth at my back. A presence. A tingle down my neck that tells me someone else is here.
And then his voice, low, smooth and dark like velvet wraps around me.
“You wouldn’t be looking for me, would you, Cricket?”
Every muscle in my body tightens. My heart stumbles.
That voice—deeper now, richer.
I smile slow, still giving him my back, while inside it’s chaos.
He’s actually here.
And just like that, every plan I made, every clever line I rehearsed, scatters like smoke.
I inhale, roll my shoulders back, and turn with all the fake indifference I can muster.
Cool. Detached. Unbothered.
It lasts two seconds.
Because the boy who left at sixteen is gone. In his place?
Holy. Shit.
Jaxon Kane is a man now—taller than Jonathan, broad and athletic. A black t-shirt clings to his chest, stretching over his shoulders and biceps like it was made for him.
He was always beautiful—dark eyes, sharp cheekbones, that crooked half-smile that made me stupid.
But this?
Greek god. Sin in human form.
His near-black eyes lock on mine, glinting with amusement, like he’s already laughing at a joke he hasn’t told yet. His hair’s longer now, brushing his ears, messy in a way that shouldn’t work but does.
And it’s still him. Jaxon.
That crooked smile spreads as I realize—shit—I’ve been staring.
He whistles low. “Damn, let me get a look at you.”
Before I can move, he takes my hand, warm and sure, and spins me like a ballerina.
His scent hits me like pine, leather, and danger.
“Looks like you’re all grown up now, Cricket.”
My mouth opens, something flirty half-formed, but the back door bursts open. Music blasts as the Jaxon Kane fan club floods out.
