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I roll my eyes and drop my head back on my shoulders before rotating it to look her at her face. “Sure. Though, I do believe it’d be better if my boyfriend weren’t one of the bachelors.”
“If he weren’t still a secret boyfriend, he probably wouldn’t be.”
I groan. “You’re not helping.”
“I’m sorry, what exactly do you want me to do? Rush the stage? I’m distracting you.”
“Oh. Well, then thanks, I guess,” I say, realizing that we’ve gone through another bachelor without my even noticing.
I bounce on my toes and suck air into my lungs. I can do this. I can do this.
“Why don’t you just bid on him yourself?”
“Are you kidding?”
Holley shrugs. “So what? There’d be drama, but at least it would be out.”
“No,” I say firmly, shaking my head. “I can’t bid on him. My dad will know. My dad cannot know. Not yet.”
Holley shrugs. “I’m really not sure I understand the daddy issues, but it’s probably good you can’t bid, honestly.”
“What? Why?”
Holley blows a puff of pfft out of her pink lips just as Garrett walks out on the stage, and the ladies in the audience lose their shit. I’m talking screaming, thrashing—these women look like they’ve just taken an intense dose of PCP.
Holley smiles, gesturing in front of us to the gyrating wave of panty-droppers with a jerk of her thumb. And then she literally has to yell because it is so loud inside the firehouse, the windows are starting to shake. “Because of that. He’s too cute for his own good, and he’s going to bring in a lottt of money. He’s been married and off-limits to these wolves for too long. Better for your wallet and the charity if someone else is the one to pay it.”
Oh God. What was I thinking? What in the world ever gave me the impression that I’d be okay with this? That I’d survive watching. I don’t think I can take it if one of these psycho, Daisy-Dukes-wearing nymphos wins a date with the guy I’m dating. Wins a date with my guy. I have to think of something. Some way to make sure I don’t spend the next fifteen years of my life visualizing the porn flick one of these women is going to make with my boyfriend. Suddenly, only one possibility feels like a viable option. “You do it. Bid on him for me.”
Holley laughs, and my lungs seize in my chest. So, this is what a panic attack feels like.
“I’m serious. Holley, you have to do it. You have to,” I ramble quickly.
Holley studies me closely, her green eyes turning soft with humor-filled pity. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, babe. My husband knows I’m zany, but bidding for a date with his best friend seems like it might be over the edge.”
“I’ll do it,” Chloe volunteers unexpectedly, popping up behind us like a jack-in-the-box.
“What?” Holley shrieks. “That’s even worse. Jake will not be happy if you bid on a date with your uncle Garrett!”
Chloe shrugs. “I don’t think it’s a big deal. He’s hot.” Holley’s eyebrows shoot to her hairline, and Chloe laughs. “Come on. Even I can see he’s hot. But it’s not like I’m actually gonna go on a date with him. I’m just helping a fellow sister out by keeping him away from the wolves.”
“What is college doing to you?” Holley breathes.
“Preparing me for the real world.”
Holley snorts. “MTV’s version of The Real World, maybe.”
“What’s that?” Chloe questions innocently, and Holley and I both shrivel up into the old ladies we are.
“Dear God,” Holley mutters to emphasize the death of our souls.
“All right, all right, ladies,” my dad says, playing the emcee role a little too well, if I’m honest. “Clearly this bachelor needs no introduction, but I’m old-school, so I’m going to do one anyway.”
My heart jumps into my throat.
“Garrett Alexander is finally single and ready to mingle.” He waggles his eyebrows.
Dear God, Dad.
“He’s athletic, charming, and one hell of a firefighter. If only he’d shave off his stupid beard for good.”
A whole chant of boos fills the room, and my dad laughs into the microphone.
“Not the popular opinion, I see.”
I almost roll my eyes. Only a man would think Garrett would be better off doing away with the beard for good.
“Well, I guess let’s get to it. Let’s start the bid at…how about five hundred?”
“A thousand!” three women shout immediately.
I reach out and grab Holley’s sweater viciously, accidentally snagging a little flesh with it.
“Ow,” she complains. “I think you just pinched my kidney.”
“Holley!” I snap on a whisper-yell.
“What? What do you want me to do?”
“Three thousand,” a woman yells, the bids going up by the second.
“Something. Anything!”
“Four thousand!” Chloe yells, shocking us both so much our heads whip toward her.
“What are you doing?” Holley hisses as Jake Brent’s cunning eyes narrow across the room.
