Page 121 of Billionaire Bad Boy Auction

“I think you should get out of town,” he said.

“What? Why?”

“You’re grumpier than usual.”

I rolled my eyes. “I think I’m the same level of grumpy.”

“You’re withdrawn.”

I shrugged. “I’m just doing my thing. I’m here, aren’t I?”

We finished eating. Again, I had the thought I might be able to escape. I could just write a check and be done with this nonsense.

“Gentlemen, please come on up,” the auctioneer called out.

Shit.

I was certain I could make it to the door before anyone would be able to stop me. But that would not set the example I wanted Seth to see. This wasn’t about me. This was about the kids. The charity. I had to bite my tongue and suck it up.

“Get your fine ass up there,” Seth joked. “Or else these women will drag you up there.”

I shot him a glare. “Next year, your ass is taking my place.”

He chuckled. “No one is going to bid on me.”

“I would,” a random woman that had been eavesdropping chimed in.

Seth grinned and immediately sat up a little straighter. He was turning on the charm. Seth had stopped drinking and getting high, but his one vice, womanizing, was still running strong. He claimed he had a lot of time to make up for.

I didn’t want to know.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” I warned him, keeping my voice low to prevent the eavesdropper from overhearing. “That one is married. I do not want a pissed-off husband coming after you or me. Or the shop. Keep it in your pants. Or find a single one.”

“Lila said she was going to be here tonight.”

I glared at him. “You stay far away from that troublemaker. She’s a pain in the ass. Don’t forget that piece she wrote when you got out of jail. She wants you in her bed to pick your brain for her next story.”

He flashed a grin. “I don’t have to talk and⁠—”

“Do not finish that sentence.” I got up and made my way up front with the rest of the poor schlepps that had agreed to be auctioned off. The spotlight burned hot against my skin as I stood on the stage, sweat trickling down my back. I had no business being here tonight. Absolutely none. Yet here I was, back under the same hot lights, in front of the same damn crowd, with women eyeing me like I was a prize stallion at the county fair.

The auctioneer’s voice boomed through the hall as he announced the first man. I should have been used to this by now. The bids flew fast and furious.

“Five hundred to the lady in red!”

“Six hundred from table twelve!”

I rolled my shoulders, trying to shake off the tension crawling up my spine. The energy in the room was different this year—thicker, more charged. Like the air before a summer storm. I did my best not to make eye contact with anyone. I stared at one of the fluffy decorations hanging from the ceiling. For the life of me, I could not understand why I submitted myself to such torture.

I couldn’t help but let my mind drift to last year’s auction. Things had been just as bad. The muggy heat. The suit. The cloying perfume and cologne in the room. It was like Groundhog Day. Nothing changed.

“He’s worth a fortune, you know,” a woman murmured to her friend just below the stage.

“I heard he’s impossible to pin down,” the friend whispered back. “A challenge like that is worth every penny.”

“Like breaking a bronco,” the other one tittered.

“Yippee kay yay,” the friend said.