When Aaron had mentioned fundraiser, followed by auction, I
had pictured a fancy but frilly room filled with wealthy and
uptown old people. Don't ask me why. But I had not
expected the spectacular rooftop where we had been welcomed with a flute
glass of the tastiest sparkling wine I had ever had the pleasure to drink. And
surely, not the trendy—and rather extravagant—array of people of all ages
and backgrounds in attendance.
Who knew that the upper spheres of the Big Apple could be so …
colorful?
Not that I had met everybody here. Actually, we had pretty much stuck
to those somehow related to the football world. Which seemed natural after
Aaron's revelation about his past and his family involvement in it. For the
last hour, I had been introduced to a couple of coaches and team
coordinators, a sportscaster, and a number of influential people whose
positions I wasn't familiar with but that I nodded to like I knew exactly
what they did. The only people we had talked to outside the sports bubble
were a few entrepreneurs whose corporations, enterprises, and whatnot I
had never heard of either.
Every time we encountered a new group of people, Aaron introduced
me as Catalina Martín, not adding any kind of label before or after my
name. Which somehow helped me lose all that tension I had carried with
me from the car drive and definitely aided with my newfound intention of
trying to enjoy myself.
This was my first time at an event like this one, and it would most likely
be my last, so the least I could do was have fun.
"I already said so, but I'm so happy to see you, Aaron." Angela, a lady
in her fifties who was clad in a dress that was probably worth two or three
times my month's rent, smiled. "Especially with someone on your arm."
I felt my cheeks heat, so I distracted myself, taking a sip from my fancy
flute glass.
We had been chatting with her for a few minutes now. And the whole
time, I had been silently watching the woman with fascination. Her
elegance and poise had me in awe. And unlike more than a few people here,
she had kind eyes. The fact that she was the mind behind tonight's event
was only the cherry on top.
"So, tell me"—Angela's lips inched higher—"you'll be taking part in
this year's auction too, I presume? I still haven't gotten the chance to check
the final list."
"Yes, of course," Aaron answered from his post at my side.
We hadn't had time to discuss what the deal with this whole me bidding
for him was. By the time I had somehow pulled it together, we had been
walking out of the elevator and into the party. We'd been quickly jumping
from one small group of people to the next, so I hadn't had the chance to
interrogate him about it.
"That's lovely to hear." She took a sip of her drink. "I had my doubts, if
I may be completely honest." Angela threw her head back and laughed.
"Last year's auction was … intense. Very entertaining, to say the least."
Aaron shifted by my side. Glancing at him, I could tell by the way his
shoulders tensed that he was slightly uncomfortable with where the
conversation was going.
That piqued my curiosity.
Angela continued, "Good thing you brought someone tonight. I'm sure
it will keep the night alive." She turned to me. "Catalina dear, I hope you
are ready for some fierce competition."
I sensed Aaron shifting some more. Which pushed my eyes to bounce
from Angela to him. "Fierce competition?" I repeated, thinking of Aaron's
words—"And that's what you'll be bidding on tonight, Catalina. Me."—and
piecing together that perhaps that was exactly why I was here.
Aaron's grip on his glass grew a little tighter. "Nothing you should
worry about."
I watched him for a long moment, my curiosity doubling. Then, I turned
to Angela, who was smiling with something that looked a lot like mischief.
"Oh, but I'm not worried." A smile tugged at my lips, one I was going
to bet was very similar to Angela's. "I'm always here for a good,
entertaining story."
I heard Aaron's resigned sigh from my side.
Angela's grin widened. "I think I'm going to leave the honors to do that
to Aaron." Then, she leaned and added in a hushed voice, "I'm sure his side
of the story is all the more captivating. Especially the part nobody got to
see."
Oh?
Before I could press for the details I was dying to hear, Angela's
attention was caught by something—someone—behind us. "Oh, there's
Michael. If you'll please excuse me, I must go say hi."
"Of course." Aaron nodded, body still all stiff, although he was
probably glad Angela was moving on to someone else. "It was nice seeing
you, Angela."
"Yes," I gave her a polite smile. "It was a pleasure meeting you,
Angela."
"The pleasure was all mine, Catalina." She leaned in and air-kissed my
cheek. "Don't let him off the hook too easily." She winked and then walked
away in the direction of the section of the rooftop where most people were
gathered. A space filled with high tables that looked straight out of a design
catalog and lines of wicker floor lamps that served as the only source of
illumination.
I turned to look at Aaron, finding that pair of blue eyes already on me.
Pushing down the slight blush climbing up my neck, I cleared my
throat. "I'm all ears, Blackford." I brought my glass to my lips and finally
finished the sparkling wine I had been nursing for the last hour. "I think it's
time you fill me in."
Aaron seemed to think about his words for a moment. "As I'm sure you
have already deducted, tonight's main event is a bachelor auction."
"A bachelor auction," I repeated slowly. "Just your run-of-the-mill
Saturday night activity, I assume."
Aaron sighed.
I rolled my index finger in the air. "Keep going. I want to hear the rest."
"I don't think there's much else to say." He balanced his glass in his
hand.
"Well, forgive me, Blackford, but I think there must be plenty. Plus, I
want to make sure I understand the concept of tonight's main event
correctly."
He shot me a glance.
I suppressed my smile. "Right. So, during this auction of yours then …
bachelors are acquired, you say."
"Correct."
"By, I assume, single women and men?"
He nodded.
"For an amount of money," I pointed out. "All in the name of charity, of
course."
Another nod.
I tapped my finger on my chin. "I just wonder … no, never mind. It's
stupid."
Aaron shot me a tired glance. "Out with it, Catalina."
"If people are bidding—buying—all these bachelors"—I watched his
eyes narrow, exasperation written all over his face—"what happens next?
When the bachelor is acquired, what is he acquired for?"
Aaron's lips pressed in a flat line.
I continued, "I mean, this is not like bidding for a boat or a Porsche. I
guess you cannot take the bachelor for a ride." Okay, that sounded …
wrong. One could technically take someone for a ride. A certain sort of
ride. "Not that kind of ride," I rushed out, watching Aaron's expression
change. A muscle jumped in his jaw. "Not like a ride in a yeehaw kind of
way. I said that because one takes cars for a ride. Like, for a spin. But not
men, not in that way. At least, I have never taken a man for a spin." I shook
my head. I was making it worse, and the more I talked, the more Aaron's
lips paled. "You know what I mean."
"No," Aaron answered simply, bringing the glass to his lips and taking a
sip. "More often than not, I don't know what you mean, Catalina." He
brought his hand to his right temple. "Whoever offers the highest bid, which
will be donated to the cause, gets to go on a date with the man in question.
That's what the bachelor is acquired for."
Hold up, what?
"A date?"
His brows knit. "Yes, a date."
"Like a date, date?"
"A date, date. Yes. You know, normally, two people who engage in a
social appointment that often involves eating. Sometimes, other kinds of
activities." He leveled me with a look. "Like going for rides and spins."
My lips parted. No, my mouth hung open.
Was he … had he just …
"Ha, hilarious." My cheeks heated. But I didn't have time to be
embarrassed. Because that meant … "So, do we have to … you know, do
it?"
"What exactly?"
"The date thing," I explained, lowering my voice so nobody could hear
us. "I know I'm only your fake bidder. So, do we have to do it anyway?
Like, fake do it? Because you said I'm here to fake bid on you, so I just …
you know."
Judging by Aaron's expression, there was something from all the things
I had just said that he found particularly unpleasant. His throat worked
slowly, looking as if he were swallowing something sour.
"Never mind. We'll figure it out later. I guess it's not important." What
was important now was climbing out of this hole I had just dug for myself.
"So, do you take part in the auction every year?"
His eyes looked away for a heartbeat and then settled back on me. "Ever
since I moved to New York. This is my third time."
"And you … take all these bidders on dates?" Okay, that wasn't exactly
changing the topic of conversation, but a part of me wanted to know. Kind
of.
"Of course. It's part of the deal."
His earlier words came to mind.
"And you don't go back on your word."
"Exactly."
That confirmation, that part of the deal bit, felt like a punch to the
stomach. Back in my apartment, I had thought he'd sounded sincere when
he told me that he wouldn't pull out of our deal. And I had felt … skeptical
in a way, yes, but a part of me had also felt special. For lack of a better
word. Like he was doing that for me and I could count on him. Perhaps
because he knew how important it was for me, how much I needed him. But
now, it seemed I had been wrong. This was the way Aaron was wired.
It didn't have anything to do with me.
And that made sense. The dumb thing to do had been thinking
otherwise.
"And what do you do on these dates?" I asked without thinking much of
it, just so he wouldn't get a chance to see anything on my face. "Where do
you take them?"
"Nothing special," he admitted with a sigh. "The bachelor usually picks
the activity and puts everything together. So, the two times I have
participated, I have organized something at one of the animal shelters in the
city. Spending some time there, volunteering and helping out or even taking
a few dogs for a walk."
That was … sweet. Generous and kind and way more than I would have
ever expected from him, if my heart skipping a teeny-tiny beat and catching
me by surprise was any indication.
I looked down, realizing my fingers were playing with the cuff around
my wrist again. "That's where you took last year's bidder then?"
"Yes." I could feel him silently asking me not to go there. Not to ask
what Angela had mentioned earlier.
"Oh," I said distractedly. "Speaking of last year"—I had to ask—"what
happened during the auction?"
Aaron's shoulders tensed, his face falling with resignation. "Not much."
"Oh yeah?" I feigned surprise. "So, this fierce competition that Angela
was talking about, the one I should not be scared of, doesn't ring any bell?"
I watched his lips twitch and then bend in a pout.
A pout. On Aaron's lips.
"Like no bells whatsoever?" I pressed, getting acquainted with that
expression of his for the first time ever. "Really none?"
Aaron Blackford kept pouting, which in turn made me want to smile as
wide as I could go. Not that I would. I suppressed the urge.
"Oh, okay." I shrugged. "I'm sure getting mobbed by overexcited
bidders is a common occurrence for you then, Blackford." I teased him
because how could I not when he looked all … mortified and ready to come
out of his skin? Plus, he had teased me first anyway. "How did it happen
exactly? Did they fling themselves at you? Or was it perhaps something
subtler? Like hurling their money at your feet? Then their underwear?"
If this man had the ability to blush, I would have bet all my money on
those cheeks turning red any moment.
"There's nothing to be embarrassed about. You are a big boy anyway."
Aaron's eyebrows shot up his forehead. "Yes, we have stated that." He
moved one step closer. "I can fend for myself."
"It didn't sound like that." My voice came out wobblier than I would
have liked.
Then, he took one more step, and something fluttered in my belly.
"Luckily"—he leaned closer, fixating his blue eyes on me—"you are
here tonight."
The flutter intensified. Which did not make any sense. I should have
been … what? What should I have been feeling?
"And the highest bid will be yours. Not anyone else's."
My heart raced as I looked up at him, feeling overwhelmed in a way
that wasn't strictly negative for how close he was standing.
Aaron didn't step back; instead, he continued talking, his voice coming
closer and closer, "I will take care of the money. The donation will leave
my pocket, not yours, so don't be shy with the bid as long as you beat
everyone here. Hurl the money at my feet, if you will. Just make sure it's
you"—he paused, and I felt my throat drying up—"the one buying me.
Understood?"
Those last few words seemed to echo in my mind, mingling with the
fluttering sensation in my belly, making my skin tingle.
I had to literally step back to force myself to process what he had just
told me. I didn't think I'd be able to donate more than a few hundred dollars
on my own, so it was a good thing Aaron had concocted this plan with his
checkbook and not mine.
Which led me to consider one of two possibilities: Aaron Blackford
truly cared about the cause, or he was wealthy enough not to care how
much I donated in his name as long as I spared him a date.
A date we were supposed to go on after this, if we followed the rules.
But one that wouldn't be real. Because this wasn't real. It was all an act.
"Well, a deal is a deal, Blackford," I told him with an awkward shrug,
shoving away the strange and hazy thought of going on a date with Aaron.
To an animal shelter. And seeing him play with a bunch of cute pups. In his
football gear with—
Por el amor de Dios, I have to stop all these mental images.
Aaron's mouth opened, but before he could speak, a man approached
us. He placed a hand on Aaron's shoulder. The latter turned at the contact
and relaxed as soon as he took in the man by his side.
"I cannot believe my eyes." He patted Aaron's back firmly. "Is this
Aaron Blackford, gracing us with his company tonight? It must be my lucky
day."
Aaron snorted; it was a short and light noise, but I had heard it. "It
certainly isn't mine now that you are here too," he muttered, the right
corner of his lips bent with the ghost of a lopsided smile.
The man—who I assumed was or had been close to Aaron at some
point, if his reaction was any indication—shook his head. "Oh hell, that
hurt." He brought a hand to his chest as the dark skin around his eyes
wrinkled. "How long has it been since I last saw your nasty face?"
"Not long enough, if you ask me." Aaron's face, one that usually
remained expressionless, opened up. His body seemed to loosen up as he
faced the other man. "How are you, TJ?" I could hear the warmth in his
voice. The familiarity.
"I've never been better," TJ—according to what Aaron had called him
—nodded. "Happy to be back, believe it or not. Damn, I never thought I'd
miss the city."
A chuckle left me at the exchange, as I was engrossed by this wholly
new and different Aaron in front of me. One who was relaxed—just enough
to almost smile—and joked—barely—with who I assumed was an old
friend.
"But—oh, I see your lonely ass has company tonight. Hi." TJ
straightened, a toothy grin taking over his face. He was probably around
Aaron's age, give or take. His frame was just as wide and almost as tall. His
brown eyes took me in with an interest that caught me by surprise. I didn't
think it was interest in me, nope. He seemed to mirror my own fascination
with Aaron having someone by his side. "Aren't you going to introduce me,
Big A? Where are your manners?" He elbowed Aaron in the ribs.
Aaron didn't even flinch at the friendly shove, remaining the
immovable wall that he usually was; he was Big A after all, a nickname I'd
make sure to query about later. Those lips that I had seen pouting just a few
minutes ago opened, but they did too late.
"Fine. I can introduce myself to the lady," Aaron's friend said, not
giving him a chance to do so himself. He stretched out his hand. "Tyrod
James. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."
I heard a noise coming from Aaron. Something very close to his earlier
snort.
"TJ for those lucky enough to call me a friend." His grin widened.
Taking his hand, I shook it with a light laugh. "It's very nice to meet
you. I'm Catalina Martín, but please, call me Lina."
TJ's warm palm held my hand, head slanted. "And what brings you
here, Lina?"
I shot Aaron a quick glance, hesitating as to what to say. Then, my gaze
returned to TJ, who waited for an answer that should have come far more
easily than this.
Smiling awkwardly and not having any idea what to say, I gave Aaron
another sideways glance and opened my mouth. "I … erm—"
Aaron intervened. Finally. "TJ and I were teammates in Seattle." He
turned toward his friend. "Catalina is here with me tonight."
TJ's eyes stayed on me as he still waited in silence, clearly wanting me
to elaborate on Aaron's introduction. All right, the whole Catalina is with
me was vague and redundant, but I could definitely go with that.
I cleared my throat. "Yes, we came here together, Aaron and I." I waved
my hand between us. "He … picked me up and then drove us here. In his
car. Together." I nodded my head, seeing TJ's eyes light up with
amusement, which made me uncomfortable. Which, in turn, made me itch
to fill in the silence. "I have a driver's license. But New York's traffic is
scary. So, I have never dared driving in the city myself." Unnecessary, Lina.
What am I doing? "So … it's a really good thing Aaron picked me up. He
doesn't look like he's scared of the traffic. Actually, it's him who can be a
little scary sometimes." I chuckled, but it died off quickly. "Not that I'm
scared of him. Otherwise, I wouldn't have gotten in his car." Shut up, Lina.
Shut. Up. I felt Aaron's laser eyes boring holes into my profile. TJ's too, but
in a much less hostile way and a much more absorbed one. "So, yeah, long
story short, we came here together."
Cringing internally, I reminded myself that this was what I deserved for
lying in the first place.
Aaron's friend chuckled, bringing both his hands to the pockets of his
maroon tuxedo. TJ's eyes jumped between us, his gaze bouncing a couple
of times from Aaron to me and then right back. Whatever he found, it was
enough for him to nod his head with something that looked a lot like
trouble.
"Hmm," TJ hummed, shrugging his shoulders. "Well, Aaron can be a
scary motherfucker." He winked. "Me, on the other hand? Just charm."
"I can tell." I smiled, just glad TJ had taken over.
"As I'm sure you already know, there is a bachelor auction going on
tonight, and not only am I a bachelor myself"—TJ held both hands up,
mischief written all over his face. Then, he peered at Aaron, as did I, and
found him shooting daggers at him—"but I have also signed up for the
auction. And while I'm sure I'll be expensive, I can promise you, I am
worth your—"
"TJ," Aaron cut off his friend. "That won't be necessary."
Aaron's body somehow shifted closer to me, my shoulder almost
brushing his arm. That kernel that had been planted back in my apartment—
that awareness of Aaron's body, the way his proximity was really hard to
ignore all of a sudden—sprouted.
I looked up at Aaron, finding his eyes already on me as his head leaned
down.
"You can stop pitching yourself," he told his friend as his gaze snared
mine. Then, I felt the ghost of a touch on the small of my back. Or so I
thought because it was gone far too quickly to be sure it had been real.
"Catalina is bidding on me tonight."
I blinked. Trapped by Aaron's eyes and how close his words had fallen,
almost gracing the skin of my left temple.
"You seem very sure of that," I heard TJ say, my eyes still locked with
Aaron's. "At least for someone who sounded more like her driver than her
date."
Aaron tore his gaze off me, landing on his friend. And I did the same.
Something passed between the two men, and for a heartbeat, I felt like I
should intervene.
Then, TJ threw back his head and laughed, breaking whatever tension
had seemed to take shape around us. "I'm just joking, Big A." Another
cackle. "You should see your face. For a second there, I thought you were
actually going to tackle me to the floor or something. You know that's not
my style. I'd never go after a friend's girl."
"I'm not—" My mouth opened to correct TJ, telling him I wasn't
Aaron's girl. But the lines delimiting our deal were blurry, and I had no idea
if I'd be inserting my foot in my mouth. I was his fake date and fake bidder,
but did that mean I was his fake girl too? Damn, we definitely needed to
talk this out before Spain. This test run was proving to be far more
challenging than what I had expected. "He wasn't going to tackle you, TJ."
Aaron's body seemed to relax with a sigh, somehow shifting and
angling toward me. His chest brushed my arm just lightly, making me feel
the warmth of his body. "I see that's something that hasn't changed," Aaron
muttered. "How hilarious you think you are."
"Come on," I intervened. "He was just teasing you." Just how I would
have if I wasn't still feeling all tingly and weird and I could focus on
something besides the point where my shoulder grazed Aaron's chest. "It
was harmless fun."
"See? Listen to your girl. I was just pushing your buttons." TJ's smile
persisted, lighting up his whole face. "Just like old times."
A question popped up in my head then. Why had TJ felt the need to
push Aaron like that? Was this how they were with each other? It must have
been. Aaron had gotten territorial in a matter of seconds right out of
nowhere.
"Oh, speaking of old times," TJ said, his face somehow taking a somber
quality. "I heard about Coach, and I'm sorry, man. I know you guys don't
talk, but he is still your—"
"It's okay," Aaron cut his friend off. I could feel the tension emanating
off his body. The shift. I could sense how uncomfortable and on guard he
was all of a sudden. "Thanks, but there's nothing you have to be sorry for."
I looked up at him, finding him pinning his friend with a warning in his
eyes.
"All right," TJ complied, his face taking on a somber edge. "I'm sure I
don't need to tell you because you have lived through it yourself, but time
doesn't wait for you to make amends, man. Time waits for nobody."
TJ stared back at his friend with something I failed to identify. An
emotion that I wanted to understand where it was coming from. How and
why did it affect Aaron, and what did it have to do with that man TJ had
called Coach?
"I convinced my pops to come tonight. I signed him up for the auction."
That mischievous smile was back. "It's time he gets out there and starts
living his life again. He's very excited." Before Aaron or I could say
anything—Aaron because he still looked a little lost himself and me
because I was trying to understand why—TJ turned to me. "So, Lina, if you
get tired of his boring face, just know there are not one, but two James men
available on the stage."
"I'll make sure to remember that." I smiled at him, trying to lighten my
tone. "Although I think I have my hands full with this one."
I felt Aaron's eyes on me, warming up my face.
Why did I say that?
"Which reminds me," TJ said. "The auction will be starting soon, and I
was sent to steal this ugly bastard away. So, if you don't mind, Lina, we
should get going."
"Oh, of course." I let my gaze roam around, realizing how most of the
people had shifted closer to the stage, which was at one of the ends of the
rooftop. A wave of nervousness washed over me. "You guys should go."
My smile turned tight. "I can spare the company for a little while." I
lowered my voice. "I'm sure you know how chatty he can get." I pointed at
Aaron. "So, my ears can use the break."
TJ cackled again. "Are you sure you want to spend your money on him,
Lina? I'm telling you—"
Aaron glared at his friend. "Quit it already, would you?"
"Okay, okay. I was just saying, man." TJ's hands went up.
I chuckled, but it came out a little strangled because Aaron had eaten
the distance that separated us, my arm fully coming in contact with his
chest, and all of a sudden, I didn't want him to go.
My eyes landed on Aaron, who was looking down at me with an
apology shining in the blue of his eyes. I must have looked and sounded as
nervous as I felt if Aaron was feeling bad for leaving me to myself for a
little while. I shook my head, telling myself to stop being silly.
"Yes, I think I'm sure, TJ," I answered TJ's initial question while I
searched Aaron's face. "Go. I'll be fine on my own."
He seemed to hesitate, not moving from my side, and I felt bad for
making him feel like he needed to babysit me.
"Don't be silly, Big A. I'm fine, and you have to go." I absently patted
Aaron's chest, my palm freezing on the spot.
Aaron looked down at my hand very slowly, just as electricity shot up
my arm. I retrieved my hand immediately, not having the slightest idea why
I had done that besides the fact that the touch had come naturally to me.
Aaron had felt bad for leaving me alone—probably because I had looked
like someone had kicked my puppy—and I had automatically tried to
comfort him with physical contact. A friendly pat. But we weren't friends,
and I shouldn't forget that.
I cleared my throat. "Go, seriously." I lifted my empty glass in the air,
feeling my cheeks heat for the umpteenth time tonight. "I'll busy myself
with getting a refill."
"I can stay a little longer, explain to you how the bidding works." His
voice was oddly gentle. It made me uncomfortable. "Get you another drink
too."
The urge to touch him again—to reassure him I'd be fine—was back. I
suppressed it. "I think I can figure it out on my own," I told him softly. It
couldn't be all that complex.
"What if I still want to tell you about it?"
My urge to antagonize him—to attempt to get us back to how we were
supposed to be—somehow pushed me to rise on my tiptoes. I leaned in, so
only he could hear me. "I'll figure it out. And if I don't, I swear, I will try
not to spend all your money on something stupid, like a yacht or Elvis's
used underpants. But I make no promises, Blackford."
I leaned back, expecting to find him rolling his eyes or scoffing.
Anything that would indicate I had succeeded and this was still us—the
Aaron and Lina I was comfortable with. Instead, I was welcomed by blue
eyes that were full of … something that churned and made me uneasy.
He hid it with a blink. "Okay." That was the only answer he gave me.
No snarky comeback. No scolding comment about how unfunny and
inappropriate it would be to spend his money on a boat. No appalled glance
after mentioning Elvis's knickers.
Nothing, except okay.
Okay then.
"All right, let's go," TJ said, encouraging Aaron to take a step away
from me. "I'll see you later, Lina." He winked.
"Yeah," I mumbled and then shook my head and tried to look like I
wasn't as confused as I felt. "Woo those flocks of bidders, guys!" I cheered
with my fist in the air.
TJ openly laughed, and Aaron remained looking at me with something I
hoped was not regret after asking me to do this whole fake date thing for
him.
Both men proceeded to turn and then walked away side by side, the
sight too enticing for me not to follow them with my gaze. So, I stood there
and watched them. I saw how TJ leaned into my fake date's side and said
something probably just for him. Aaron's head never turned, his step never
ceased; his only reaction was a shake of his raven head. Then, he shoved TJ
away with a force I was sure would have sent anybody else flying.
Another one of TJ's cackles resonated in the air.
And I found myself grinning as I watched them stride off. Thinking
about how seeing Aaron around all these people who belonged to a life I
hadn't had the slightest clue existed—one that he had kept well guarded,
just like he did everything else—was as outlandish as it was fascinating.
M of its own accord, catching me by surprise.
"Fifteen hundred for the lady in the beautiful midnight-blue gown,"
Angela—who had been in charge of conducting the auction for the last hour
—called from behind the microphone stand with a rather shocked smile.
My throat dried up, making it impossible for me to swallow my own
audacity.
I was a despicable human being because I had just bid a dizzying
amount of money on someone. A man. A bachelor no less.
One that wasn't Aaron.
The seemingly sweet and old man I had just bid on gave an enthusiastic
cheer from the center of the stage, relief taking over his wrinkled face. He
bowed in my direction.
As much as I felt horrible and guilty and honestly a little terrified, I
couldn't help but smile at the man in return.
Willing my eyes to stay put—and not to jump to Aaron, who was a few
feet to the left of the stage, waiting for his turn to be auctioned—I tried to
shake off the deserved sense of guilt that had settled between my shoulders.
Chill. I needed to chill. Someone else would bid higher. The old man
just needed a little push to get this going.
And that was exactly what I had done. Or what I had found myself
doing after the five minutes of awkward and heartbreaking silence
following that sweet-looking man stepping on the stage. I had recognized
that smile immediately. It had been the same playing on TJ's lips.
"Ladies and gentlemen, sixteen hundred for Patrick James." Angela's
voice came through the speakers.
No hands rose in the air. Not even one.
Dammit.
Who I had assumed was TJ's pops, Patrick, stood on the stage with his
gray hair, suspenders, and back a little curved with age, looking completely
out of place when compared with every other man who had been up for
grabs—or bids, whatever—that night. He smiled, satisfied enough with just
being there. With just having one bidder, which happened to be me. And
that was bad, bad, bad. Because I was here to bid on Aaron. Not for a man
that, according to Angela's introduction, was a widower who was looking
for a second chance not in love, but in living life.
Jesus, I'd take him on a date if I had to. I hadn't been able to stand there
and do nothing when a man who reminded me so much of my passed
abuelo for some damn reason, a man I knew was TJ's pops, waited for
someone, for anybody, to bid on him. This was a fundraiser, for Christ's
sake. Weren't people supposed to be donating their money?
That was what I had done. Only perhaps I had technically bid with
money that wasn't mine.
I grimaced.
Don't look at Aaron, Lina. Don't.
I'd pay for the donation with my own funds. The most pressing issue
was, could I bid for two bachelors?
Shit. I really hoped so.
Angela continued pitching the sweet man on the stage. "Mr. James has
an affinity for candlelit dinners, and he is a believer of fulfilling his own
destiny."
Patrick's head nodded. No hands were visible.
Mierda, mierda, mierda.
I couldn't look at Aaron. Not even when I could feel both his eyes
boring holes in my profile. I'd bet he was fuming. But I'd apologize later.
I'd … explain.
"He is a sailing aficionado, an activity he picked up ever since his
grandson bought him a beautiful sailboat. One that he intends on putting to
good use on his date."
Out of the corner of my eye, I tracked down around five women who
were in the mood for a sailing date placing their bids.
Relief filled me so instantly that I felt about ten pounds lighter.
My gaze searched for Aaron then. And it didn't take me any time to find
him. My eyes seemed to know exactly where he was standing.
My breath caught for a second.
Stupid, stupid tuxedo.
I had been so wrapped up in what was happening that he, looking all
imposing and striking on top of that stage, caught me completely off guard.
The auction for Patrick continued in the background, my eyes making
their way to Aaron's. They were narrowed. Probably assessing what the hell
that had been. Other than that, he looked … fine. Neutrally stoic. Just like
he usually did. Except for the distracting tux that hung off his body like a
glove.
Finding a little comfort in the fact that Aaron didn't seem to be
completely furious, I shrugged my shoulders and mouthed, I'm sorry, okay?
Aaron's eyes narrowed further, and then his head shook lightly. You're
not, I watched his lips enunciate.
I huffed. I am, I mouthed back.
I was very, very sorry, and he—
He shook his head again, disbelief in his eyes. You're not.
Aggravated by the words Aaron had mouthed—twice—even though he
had every right to and I had sort of anticipated it, I threw both my hands up
with irritation.
Jesus, this man—
"Nineteen hundred for the lady in midnight blue." Angela's voice
reached my ears.
Wait, what? No.
I flinched, then dropped my hands to my sides, and stuck them there.
Looking at Angela for confirmation of what I had done, even if this time
accidentally, I found her pointing in my direction.
Shit.
Returning my gaze to Aaron, I watched him roll his eyes, lips pressed
into a thin line.
Grimacing, I sent him a tight smile that I hoped communicated how
really sorry I was and hoped Patrick had another one of those boats.
Because I needed somebody else to bid on the old widower man.
Angela announced the next sum, not obtaining an immediate answer.
The guilt returned, together with a pinch of embarrassment. Which
pushed me to pin Aaron with a serious look as I mouthed again, Sorry, very
slowly and methodically. Making sure he understood the sentiment behind
it.
Aaron's eyes held mine, one of those deadpan expressions in place.
I swear. I made my lips form the silent words in a very exaggerated
manner. Then, I curled my lips into a sad face, keeping the rest of my body
still—just so I wouldn't accidentally bid on any more bachelors. I am really
sorry, I mouthed like a total idiot.
And I was. Sorry, that was. Although a bit of an idiot too.
A few heads turned and sent me a fair share of weird glances, but I
didn't let that deter me, and I kept my lips bent down. Telling Aaron with
my eyes that I was sorry. Although, if you asked me, it was on him for
bringing me of all people to do something that I was clearly not qualified
for.
The sight must have been truly something because before I knew what
was happening, Aaron's shoulders shook a couple of times, his stance
broke, and one of his hands went to the back of his neck as his head dipped.
I couldn't see his face, so I had no clue of what was going on. All money
was on him bursting in frustration and anger and turning into the Hulk. And
just when I was about to really start worrying, he lifted back that ravenhaired head of his and revealed something I would never have bet on.
The biggest, widest, and handsomest smile was splitting his expression.
Wrinkling the corners of his eyes. Transforming him into a man my eyes
couldn't take in fast enough. A man I had never seen before. One who was
beginning to make it really, really hard for me to hate.
My own face lit up at the sight. I felt my cheeks tense with my
answering grin—one just as big, just as wide, just as unexpected.
And then Aaron started laughing. His head tilted back, and his shoulders
shook with laughter. And he was doing it on a stage, in front of all these
people and in front of me, as if he didn't have a care in the world.
Neither did I, apparently. Because in that moment, the only thing I could
focus on, think of, care about was Aaron's unexpected and glorious smile
and laughter. So much that my fingers itched to pull out my phone and snap
a photo so I had proof that this had happened. So I could revisit the moment
—in which Aaron Blackford, someone who had the power to irritate me
with nothing but a word, had fucking lit up the place with a smile he had
kept locked up from me ever since I met him—whenever I wanted.
And how messed up was that? Or furthermore, how messed up was it
that I didn't even care about it being messed up in the first place?
Before I could recover from it—the effect of something as mundane as a
smile, but that was so rare in the man my eyes couldn't stop looking at—he
was striding toward the center of the stage.
Angela's voice left the speakers. "Lovely. I'm sure Patrick and his lucky
bidder, the lady with the blue fan, will enjoy whatever he has prepared."
Too caught up in my fake date who knew how to really smile, I hadn't
noticed someone bidding for Patrick.
"And last but not least, we have Aaron Blackford. Ladies, gentlemen,
let's start at fifteen hundred and remember—" Angela's eyes widened, and
then she chuckled. "Oh, I guess I don't need to remind you to please place
your bids on our last bachelor tonight if you want to contribute to the
cause."
Looking around, I found the reason why. More than ten different people
had their arms already in the air.
"I love seeing your involvement," Angela continued with a knowing
smirk. "Fifteen hundred for the lady in red."
Turning, I located this involved with the cause lady in red. She was in
the first row of people, and she looked about twenty years older than me,
give or take. And while I didn't want to be judgmental or superficial, only
by looking at her, I could imagine how generous her donation would be.
My gaze shot back to the stage, clashing against Aaron's. That grin had
been wiped off, his features now hard and empty. I felt a pang of
disappointment I had no time to inspect.
I had one job tonight, and I was failing at it. For the second time.
Readying myself, I released a breath. I couldn't let myself be distracted
by something as wonderfully shocking yet pointless as Aaron's ability to
smile or laugh.
"Seventeen hundred?" Angela announced, and I gestured with my hand
to place my bid. Too late. "For the lady in red."
Lady in Red had beaten me—and around another five or six hands—to
it again.
A quick look at Aaron's tense shoulders told me he felt as unhappy
about it as I was.
I squared back my shoulders, focusing on Angela and her next words.
"Wonderful," she said into the microphone. "Let's raise this up, ladies
and gentlemen. Mr. Blackford is after all in high demand. How about
nineteen hun—"
My hand shot up in the air, keeping an eye on Lady in Red, whose bid
had been faster than mine. Again.
Angela chuckled and pointed at Lady in Red again, acknowledging her
bid.
To my shock and surprise, Lady in Red turned in my direction with a
smug smile on her face.
My eyes narrowed. Oh, hell no. This wasn't about charity. This had just
gotten personal.
Angela announced the next amount, and I launched my hand in the air
with impressive speed, so much that I almost pulled a muscle, but Angela's
next words made up for possible injuries.
"For the lovely lady in midnight blue." Angela smiled from behind the
stand.
I returned it, feeling a weird burn in the pit of my stomach, matching the
one on my shoulder.
Next bid was called, and it was mine again.
Ha! Suck that, Lady in Red.
As if she had heard me, her head whirled around. Her eyes narrowed to
very thin slits, and her lips pursed. The woman whipped her blonde hair
back and dismissed me.
I knew in that moment that I had been right to assume this was personal.
This lady was after Aaron. And I wasn't going to let her get my Aaron—
Not mine, I corrected myself. Just Aaron.
I wasn't going to let her get Aaron.
The call for the next bid came, and before Angela's words were out, it
was already mine. Lady in Red sent me a look that could have frozen the
sun on a heated New York summer day, and I was tempted to stick my
tongue out, but after reminding myself that would be about a hundred ways
of inappropriate, I limited myself to smirking.
Lady in Red and I battled for about five or six more rounds. Each of
them becoming brisker, our arms flashing up faster, the looks we sent each
other growing icier. My breath quickened, and the skin of my face felt like I
had just sprinted across Central Park like I was chasing the freaking ice
cream truck. But so far, it was worth it because Aaron remained mine.
Not mine. Just … whatever.
I had been so absorbed by this duel we had going on that I had almost
forgotten about the man on the stage. I had barely checked on him since the
bidding bloodshed started.
Just as I was about to turn my attention to Aaron, my hand rose in the
air one more time—as high as the ridiculous amount of money we had
reached—and this time, it did alone.
Angela waved in my direction. "Going once for the lady in midnight
blue," she called.
My heart thumped against my chest harder. I caught a glimpse of a
gray-haired man beside a tight-lipped Lady in Red, who stood with her
arms crossed in front of her chest.
"Going twice," Angela continued as I watched the man whisper
something in Lady in Red's ear, to which she just sighed and nodded.
Reluctantly.
Come on, come on, come on. Aaron is almost mine.
"And sold to the very lovely and very passionate lady in the midnightblue gown." Angela closed the bidding with a wink.
I felt the celebratory holler climbing to my throat as my head finally
turned in Aaron's direction. I wanted to do a little victory dance. To throw
my hands in the air too. I also felt the urge to shout a couple of
inappropriate words, which, in hindsight, I would have realized was
extremely stupid and I would have immediately regretted it.
But as Aaron came into view, that whirling emotion that had been too
loud a moment ago, fell silent on its own. He wasn't even smiling. He
simply … looked at me.
The disappointment at not finding that grin I had gotten a glimpse of
earlier returned, and I wondered if it would be this way from today on. Me
searching for Aaron's smile and him keeping it locked away again.
I swallowed that up, shoving those stupid thoughts out of my head.
My lips tugged up regardless of all that, and I gave a halfhearted cheer.
To which Aaron simply nodded, looking like he did when he had something
in his mind. Something that bothered him.
Frowning, I watched Aaron's long legs climb down the stage and walk
to my side, all the while ignoring how the way he wasn't even celebrating
with me made me feel. Instead, I focused on keeping what I hoped looked
like a genuine smile in place.
The blue-eyed man I had just bought for a date that would never happen
stopped in front of me. He dipped his head, his chin almost touching his
collarbone. I waited, but he didn't say anything.
I reached for something to say and came up empty-handed, returning
the silence.
That awareness I had been familiarizing myself with far too rapidly for
my own good and comfort came rushing back, raising the short hairs on my
arms. It hit me then how weird, how strange, and how shocking in many
different ways it was that we'd found each other in this situation. How
tonight didn't even seem real.
Shifting on my feet under the weight of Aaron's gaze, I swallowed. One
more time, I wasn't capable of taking in this heavy silence that settled
between us. "I hope you come with a boat, Blackford," I finally said, my
voice sounding a little off. "Otherwise, I might regret not sticking with
Patrick."
Aaron's eyes didn't waver. They held mine. And just as they did, I
watched how they warmed up for just a heartbeat. The skin around them
wrinkling only slightly with the smile I now knew he refused to give me.
I felt something shift in my chest. Something very subtle and small that
I almost missed, but it didn't help the pace of my breath—still all over the
place from the auction—to return to normal.
He took one step closer. "Sometimes, I'm convinced you enjoy making
me suffer." His usually deep voice sounded hushed. Giving to his words an
afterthought quality.
"Oh." I frowned. My mouth opened, but I still struggled for a few more
moments. "Okay, you have every right to be pissed, but in all fairness, we
are even because you should have warned me it would get that intense." I
laughed awkwardly. "If I had known, I would have added a ninja star or two
to my outfit. They would have definitely come in handy with Lady in Red."
Aaron towered over my short height, quiet and still gazing at me in that
way that made me shift on my feet again.
Silence settled between us once more, bringing to my attention that we
were no longer surrounded by the crowd that had gathered in front of the
stage. Instead, the murmur of voices accompanied with a mellow tune came
all the way from the other side of the rooftop.
Aaron broke the silence, saying, "Dance with me."