Page 39 of The Kiss Connection

“I’m not a patient man.”

Coach Malone laughs under his breath. “Obviously. Don’t think any of my men are; it’s what makes you all so good on the ice.”

Sitting at the table, I’m a bit restless. The guys have me going up first for the date with a hockey player. There’s no program in front of my seat that shows all the items to bid on. Everyone else has one, but it seems mine was misplaced.

It doesn’t really matter. It’s not like I’m bidding on anything tonight.

Yes, I live comfortably, but most of the items up for bid are huge, like a day out on a luxury yacht, and six days, five nights trip to an all-inclusive resort in Bermuda. Both seem nice but don’t really scream fun for a single guy.

When it’s finally time for our team to get auctioned off, I’m called up first.

I wander up on stage, stand front and center, the spotlight bright on me, and I glance around the room, taking in the unfamiliar faces.

This would be embarrassing if the entire team wasn’t participating, but at least I won’t be alone. We can all commiserate on how we went out with a cougar, because deep down, I just know a lady in her eighties is going to be the winning bid.

“Tonight, we have an extra special treat for you,” the auctioneer says. “From the NHL we’ve got Myles Dax, left wing, and heartthrob. He’s generously donated an evening with one lucky winner.” There’s a murmur of whispers through the room, and I force a smile, hoping it appears genuine, but I’m nervous.

The auctioneer clears his throat, trying to get all the attention back on us. “For the starting bid of one thousand dollars, Myles will take you on a date to the place of your choosing, where he’ll wine and dine you. He’s even paying and will be sure to give you that much anticipated goodnight kiss, ladies—or gentlemen. Did I mention he’s single? Do I have one thousand dollars?”

Silence falls over the room.

Not a single hand goes up.

I shift awkwardly on my feet, concerned that the auctioneer might have to lower the minimum bid.

He lifts the microphone to his mouth. “It’s for charity, folks,” he says, reminding everyone what they’re out here tonight for, in case it hadn’t been clear the past several hours.

A few more rumblings go through the crowd.

The auctioneer continues speaking, trying to get someone to bid on me.

Anyone?

“I forgot to mention, this is the last item for the evening. Those of you waiting to bid, we saved the best for last.”

What?

The other guys aren’t up next?

My stomach bottoms out and my breathing quickens. The bright lights on stage are blinding.

From across the room, there is a small table where you can acquire a bidding paddle if you need one. Staff have already abandoned the space, but the silver dress hits the lighting and sparkles from a distance.

No. No. No.

Her hand shoots up high above the crowd. She’s also standing by the table with the paddles, so she towers above everyone else who is seated. “Twenty thousand dollars,” she shouts as her eyes meet mine and my breath catches in my throat.

Why the hell is Juniper bidding on a date with me?

She hates me.

And it’s not a small bid.

Did she just say twenty thousand dollars?

“We have twenty thousand dollars. Do we have twenty-one thousand?” the auctioneer asks, glancing around the room.

Silence fills the void.