Page 8 of The Auction
Matt’s head jerks around. “Shit.”
“I’m sorry,” he says quickly, spinning back to me. “I’ve gotta go. Like,right now.”
Before I can say a word, he leans in and presses a quick kiss to my cheek. “I’ll call you.”
And in a second, he’s gone.
Running back toward the house with two other guys trailing him, cutting across the yard and disappearing into the chaos.
Leaving me standing there.
Alone.
Again.
Matt disappears into the rush of college boys sprinting to beat curfew, and the night air closes in. The beer’s warm buzz lingers in my veins, but the cold still nips at every inch my dress doesn’t cover.
I cross my arms, debating going back inside—until a familiar shoulder brushes mine.
“Your boyfriend ditch you?” Jaxon’s voice is low, teasing, beer bottle in hand.
“Not my boyfriend,” I say.
His mouth quirks. “Good thing the coach showed up. Looked like he was about to eat you alive.”
I meet his gaze, steady. “Maybe I wanted him to.”
The smirk fades, replaced with something tighter. A challenge. He nods toward a quiet corner of the yard. “Come on.”
He leads me to a koi pond hidden behind hedges, where the party’s chaos is just a dull hum. A stone bench waits in front of the water.
“Your brother know you were about to suck face over there?”
“I don’t need his permission. I’m not a little girl anymore.” I shift just enough for the dress to dip lower in the moonlight.
His gaze drags down, slow, then back up. “Yeah. I can see that.”
“Can I have a drink?” I ask, sugar in my tone.
“How much have you had?”
“Barely one beer.”
He studies me, then hands it over. Our fingers brush. I sip, hand it back, and he finishes it.
“All those summers you came to our house,” I say quietly, “I never thought we’d end up here. Sharing a beer.”
He almost laughs. “Yeah. I used to steal Oreos from your pantry until your scary-ass nanny would chase me off.”
“She wasn’t a nanny—just mean.”
“Still ratted me out.”
“You always came back, though.”
He doesn’t answer right away, just stares at the pond. I tuck my hands under my thighs.
“You were always there,” I murmur. “Then one day… you weren’t. I missed that. I missed you.”
