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“Here’s your list of Auctionees.” Rascal hands Corvin a sheet of paper. “It’s numbered for easy tracking. If you’re late, I’ll stick you with the date.”
Rascal avoids my glare as he pats me on the shoulder. “You, my dear, will be in charge of making sure everyone is calm and set up before they go out.”
“You know this is a college date auction not a fancy art show, right?”
Rascal only smiles real wide and walks away, leaving Corvin to wrap his fingers around the back of my neck and ground me from giving the irritating little fuck a middle finger.
“Easy, sweetheart. Play nice.”
Corvin presses his lips to my temple, and I slip away, giving him the middle finger instead.
“I don’t play with anyone but you.” I meant for the statement to come out scathing, but it sounds more like a solemn swear.
Corvin’s gaze softens, but I cross my arms and stand my ground. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Atty slipping behind the curtain.
“I’ve got work to do.”
He nods and stops me with a hand on my waist as I go to pass.
“Behave.”
I tilt my head back and flash him a grin. “Do I ever not?”
An hour later, the auction is well under way, and at least half of the bachelors and their new dates are plastered. It’s to be expected. College event and all. But that doesn’t make the urge to partake any less overwhelming.
I’ve picked up a couple half drunk bottles and chucked them in the trash, but not before getting a whiff of the alcohol and letting the flavor remnants rest on my lips.
I get some disapproving stares from Rascal, but I haven’t gotten any ominous or questioning texts from Corvin, so I don’t think he’s said anything.
Atlas and Blair made out for a while on a dingy couch that must have been tossed back here by the theater club. I think they went at it a little extra hard because of the silver fox who bet on Atty.
The date that he planned is practically a baking session with him, but if I were his boyfriend I’d be marking my territory, too.
“Oh, I’m up.” Noah uncurls from the couch my brother and best friend abandoned for their car a little bit ago. They agreed to take Noah home, so I can only imagine what they’re up to.
“You ready to win a date, baby bear?” I don’t know when I picked up the nickname Blair uses for his roommate, but at some point over the last few weeks it just sort of stuck.
He nods, shaking his head like that’ll somehow do anything other than give him the classic emo look from the early 2000’s.
“What did you end up going with?”
Noah looks over at me with tired eyes, digging at the sleep still clinging to them with his knuckles.
“The cat cafe over in Knox, a quick stop at CM Games because they have some new Pokemon plushies I want to check out, and dinner at Waffle House because they have the best chocolate chip waffles.”
All he needs is a stuffie right now, and he’d look like a toddler preparing for a sleepover.
“Oh.” He perks up with a sweet, dreamy smile. “And lots of kissing. That’s a deal breaker.”
I turn slightly, and I must look extra inviting tonight, because Noah dives into my arms for a hug that nearly squeezes the life out of me.
“You’re not worried, are you?”
He shakes his head into my chest and gives me another tight squeeze before letting go.
“Just needed a confidence cuddle. Not a fan of crowds.”
I pat his head even though he’s a good few inches taller than me and usher him towards the front. Rascal will have my ass for interrupting his precious schedule.
