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Well… I mean, that’s better than some strange guy I don’t know, I guess.
Confusion flickers briefly across Sloane’s brow as if she’s wondering who invited that guy, but she recovers her smile quickly. “All right, we have ourselves a hot little commodity. Do I hear eighty dollars? Come on, fellas, you know she’s worth it.”
“Eighty,” Ryan finally calls, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Eighty-five,” Liam calls.
“Yes, gentlemen. That’s what we like to see. Who wants to go ninety?” Sloane calls, keeping up the momentum.
“Five hundred dollars.”
My heart stops, and my gaze jumps to the edge of the room. He’s not seated. It looks like he just came in—a little late, but just in time.
Killian.
The room goes quiet, and my heart skips a beat at the sight of him. He looks so handsome in black slacks and a black button-down shirt with sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows. His powerful arms are folded casually over his chest as he leans there against the wall just inside the entrance, and my god, he looks like a dark knight unexpectedly riding to my rescue.
For a moment, I forget why I ever wanted to be away from him, because right now, he looks like… well, my savior.
Again.
A soft smile tugs at my lips. I can’t seem to help it.
He doesn’t smile, but I see the merest hint of one tugging at the corner of his mouth, and I want to kiss it.
Then he winks at me.
My heart does this really stupid thing, I don’t even know.
Stay put, you stupid organ.
But it doesn’t want to. It’s yearning for him, and I… man, I am in so much trouble.
It felt to me like Killian stopped the world, and I guess he did, but as the world always does, it recovers and continues to spin.
Sloane stumbles a bit in her bid to drive the prices higher, but she quickly recovers. “Um, okay, we have $500. Do I hear 515?”
No one speaks up.
She swallows, looking hopefully over the audience. “How about 505?”
Still, no one speaks up.
“It’s for a good cause,” she reminds them. “The poor Rho Kappas. Some asshole burned down their house.”
I glance back at her because that feels like an unhinged comment to make when I’m not sure the authorities have even landed on that being the case, but Sloane seems to be unraveling ever so slightly.
But of course, the Zeta president can’t come undone, so she quickly collects herself and tries one more time. “Every dollar counts, guys. Anyone willing to go 501?”
“Bidding’s closed, Sloane,” Killian states.
Maybe it’s my imagination that she loses a shade of color. Just a strange trick of the light.
She smiles faintly and nods, looking out at the crowd instead of at him. “Sold for five hundred dollars.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
Brynn
