paused long enough I was able to put on some pants before having to do the walk of shame through the crowd. Maybe it shouldn’t feel that way, but it did.
I’d agreed to this to take the heat off speculation about my sexuality, but now I’d been sold to a man I’d never seen while wearing nothing but a shirt, socks, and my underwear.
2
Nate
Zach was going to kill me. When he’d handed me the black Amex he’d been issued shortly after signing with the Wilmington Breakers, he’d told me to use it for whatever I wanted. That was the benefit of being the financial whiz in the family and working for my brother because it beat the hell out of getting a real job.
He didn’t question my expenses because he knew that, out of the two of us, he was far more likely to make impulsive purchases. Except, apparently, when it came to bidding on sexy baseball players without any pants.
Hopefully, once I explained that I’d put in the initial bid because the man looked ready to crawl off the stage, he’d understand and have mercy on me. If not, I’d point out that he paid me a salary high enough to cover one frivolous purchase.
No, it wasn’t a purchase, it was a donation to Secured Hope. Calling it a purchase felt dirty. It somehow reduced PJ Nolan to little more than an escort.
All eyes were on me as I pushed my way through the crowd to fill out whatever paperwork was required. Then, with any luck, PJ would meet me so we could grab dessert. I’d explain to him that I didn’t give a shit about the date, because that wasn’t the point in me getting into a bidding war. All I’d really wanted to do was save him from someone treating him like a slab of meat.
My pants grew uncomfortably tight as my mind thought about what a Grade A piece of meat he was. Ugh, I seriously needed to get my libido in check, otherwise I would be one of the creepy bidders I was trying to save PJ from.
Keep telling yourself that, Kendricks, my conscience scolded me. You bid on him because you couldn’t help yourself. You’ve been watching him all night, wishing you had the balls to say something to him. Well, now’s your chance.
The door slammed open, capturing everyone’s attention once again. PJ’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the room for the man who’d won his company for the evening. When he swallowed, every muscle in his neck tightened. Maybe I’d completely misread him, because he didn’t seem relieved that there wasn’t a woman standing out here waiting for him.
Zach always said I was shit at reading nonverbal cues. PJ looked pissed off enough I seriously considered slinking back inside before—
“Number thirty-eight,” the volunteer called out. I looked at the bidding paddle in my hand before glancing to see if PJ had calmed down at all. Lucky for me, someone had pulled him into a conversation, giving me the chance to make my donation and slink out of the hotel without further incident.
I needed to remind myself I’d only bid in order to keep him from doing something I’d thought he didn’t want to do anyway. Maybe if I repeated the words enough, I’d start to believe I hadn’t done it because I was curious to see if my assumptions about him were right.
I handed my—Zach’s—card to the volunteer and waited to finish whatever paperwork I needed to complete. Tomorrow, I’d explain the entire situation to Zach and we’d have a good laugh at what an idiot I was sometimes. “Thank you, Mister Kendricks. If you’ll step to the side, we’re taking pictures of all of the winners and their bachelors.”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” I said, my voice cracking.
“Actually,” she responded with a bit of attitude. “It is necessary. If you’d read the release you signed, you’d know you agreed to appear in promotional pictures for the center.”
Well hell, so much for sneaking away before PJ had the chance to wrap his hands around my neck. Which, given the harsh set of his jaw and the daggers he seemed to shoot in my direction from his eyes, was a real possibility. He stalked my direction, having apparently figured out I was the one who bid on him.
Zach really wasn’t going to be happy if this turned into a fist fight. He’d worked hard to keep his image clean, to the point of distancing