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Sadie taps my arm, drawing my attention back to her. She leans in, brushing the dark brown hair off my shoulder and whispers into my ear. “You have to go backstage with him. It’s part of the deal.”
“No,” I growl. “I didn’t bid on him, you did. Why don’t you go with him?”
“Technically, you won the auction, so you have to play your part. And I don’t want to miss my turn at Harker. He’s up next.” A beat passes between us before she adds, “It’s my birthday, Briana. Please.”
The desperation in her voice reminds me of why I agreed to come here in the first place. This day is about Sadie and her crush on Cole Harker. Whether she wins the hockey star or not is irrelevant. I can’t take the opportunity from her. We only have a few more months left until graduation. If she doesn’t at least try one last time, she might hate me forever. And I can’t have that. My friendship with Sadie is one of the few functional relationships I have left.
I look up and Julian’s gaze meets mine. A wicked grin reaches up to his beautiful green eyes. “C’mon, Bri,” he says, his voice so deep and smooth it causes the hair on my arms to stand at attention. “It’s for charity. We can set our differences aside for one day.”
Can we? That’s easy for him to say.
The energy in the room thickens from his words, the air so dense now I can hardly breathe with him this close to me. My skin hums with excitement, tiny pricks setting my arms on fire when he grabs my hand. Why is he touching me? And most importantly, why haven’t I pushed him away?
Stupid body.
Stupid hockey player.
I snap out of my Julian-induced trance and shove the wooden paddle at Sadie. If I hadn’t dropped the damn thing, I wouldn’t be in this position. Some other girl, one who wanted a date with him, would be led away from her chair. She’d have the same warmth spreading throughout her body as his fingers slipped between hers. I bet she would even feel the same tug in her chest.
I’m greeted with dozens of angry scowls from the girls in the front row. These rich bitches lost to me. I chuckle at the thought. They have the money and looks, and yet Julian is leading me, of all people, across the front of the stage, up the stairs, and behind the curtain to join the other winners. Well, depending on how you look at it, losers. Because I don’t feel like I won a damn thing.
Julian Rivers is not a prize.
He’s my ex for a reason.
Once we’re backstage, Julian weaves us past a group of men and women saying hello as we make our way to the green room. We step inside, where we find two of his teammates sitting on an old velvet couch that looks like its owner died sometime in the Victorian era. Posters for Les Misérables, The Phantom of the Opera, Wicked, and various musical productions hosted at Strickland University are hung on the walls behind the couches.
Various armchairs and even a vintage chaise lounge are spread throughout the room. Despite its age, the furniture has been well cared for. At least it was until gargantuan hockey players decided to take residence on the couch closest to me, bouncing girls on their laps. I try not to roll my eyes at the women hooking their arms around their necks, too eager to make an ass of themselves for one second of attention from these guys. I feel sorry for them. They have no idea what these guys are like. What they will do with them once they’re finished playing with them.
Like Julian, the players on the men’s ice hockey team are gorgeous, most of them tall, built like muscled gods, and filthy rich. A few of the players on his team are even sons of famous hockey players. The players across from me ooze sex, money, and bad decisions. Once upon a time, I was willing to make tons of bad decisions with Julian. I would have followed him off a cliff if he wanted me to. I was so stupid and in love. I was so out of my element, out of my league, that I would have done anything with him, for him.
Years ago, I thought my luck had changed when Julian approached me at a party. He was too good-looking, too good to be true. I knew my luck would run out. It was only a matter of time, and unlike Cinderella, my fairy tale didn’t continue after the stroke of midnight. I didn’t run from a castle or leave my glass slipper behind for him to find. No, I left my dignity and self-respect on the front step of the on-campus house he shares with his teammates.
Julian tightens his grip on my sweaty hand and dips down to speak against the shell of my ear. The warmth from his breath causes a chill to roll down my arms.
“I know you hate me,” he says, and I glance up at him. “But I want you to have a good time, even if it kills you.”
“And where do you think you’re taking me?”
He rolls his shoulders. “I haven’t decided yet.”
I take a few steps back from him, though I can’t dodge his intense gaze no matter how hard I try. “Probably somewhere I’ll hate.”
“Bri,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Can we be civil for once?” When my expression doesn’t relax, he adds, “Please. Just until this date is over.”
“For the record,” I say, shoulders straight, hands on my hips. “I didn’t bid on you. I dropped my paddle and Sadie raised it at the last minute.”
His mouth tips up into a wicked smirk. “Does it matter who placed the bid? You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”
I snort at his comment. “Don’t look so happy about it.”
“Regardless of how you feel about me,” he hedges, “I still like you.”
His confession sends a shiver down my spine. My entire body stiffens from his words. Does he still like me? Yeah, r
ight. The way he acted years ago proved otherwise. Julian has since moved on with more than his fair share of girls. If he liked me, he would have run after me that night. He would have dropped to his knees and begged for my forgiveness. He wouldn’t have waited months to stop me on campus and ask how I was doing, all with the intent of a booty call. At least that’s what I had assumed he wanted from me. Because that’s all a girl like me could ever be to someone like him.
Ignoring Julian, I glance over at the girls carrying on with the two hockey players. Ryan Nash and Damon Knox would have garnered this much attention on a regular day. But I guess the high from winning the auction has made these girls drunk on stupid. The busty blonde on Ryan Nash’s lap runs her hands beneath his suit jacket, feeling every ridge of his stomach. If he’s built anything like Julian—and by the looks of it he probably is—then I can only imagine how much pleasure this girl is getting from exploring his toned body. And why am I even thinking of Ryan Nash’s body… or Julian’s for that matter?
