“A date?”
His brows knit. “Yes, a date.”
“Like a date, date?”
“A date, date. Yes. You know, normally, two people who engage in a social appointment that often involves eating. Sometimes, other kinds of activities.” He leveled me with a look. “Like going for rides and spins.”
My lips parted. No, my mouth hung open.
Was he … had he just …
“Ha, hilarious.” My cheeks heated. But I didn’t have time to be embarrassed. Because that meant … “So, do we have to … you know, do it?”
“What exactly?”
“The date thing,” I explained, lowering my voice so nobody could hear us. “I know I’m only your fake bidder. So, do we have to do it anyway? Like, fake do it? Because you said I’m here to fake bid on you, so I just … you know.”
Judging by Aaron’s expression, there was something from all the things I had just said that he found particularly unpleasant. His throat worked slowly, looking as if he were swallowing something sour.
“Never mind. We’ll figure it out later. I guess it’s not important.” What was important now was climbing out of this hole I had just dug for myself. “So, do you take part in the auction every year?”
His eyes looked away for a heartbeat and then settled back on me. “Ever since I moved to New York. This is my third time.”
“And you … take all these bidders on dates?” Okay, that wasn’t exactly changing the topic of conversation, but a part of me wanted to know. Kind of.
“Of course. It’s part of the deal.”
His earlier words came to mind.
“And you don’t go back on your word.”
“Exactly.”
That confirmation, that part of the deal bit, felt like a punch to the stomach. Back in my apartment, I had thought he’d sounded sincere when he told me that he wouldn’t pull out of our deal. And I had felt … skeptical in a way, yes, but a part of me had also felt special. For lack of a better word. Like he was doing that for me and I could count on him. Perhaps because he knew how important it was for me, how much I needed him. But now, it seemed I had been wrong. This was the way Aaron was wired.
It didn’t have anything to do with me.
And that made sense. The dumb thing to do had been thinking otherwise.
“And what do you do on these dates?” I asked without thinking much of it, just so he wouldn’t get a chance to see anything on my face. “Where do you take them?”
“Nothing special,” he admitted with a sigh. “The bachelor usually picks the activity and puts everything together. So, the two times I have participated, I have organized something at one of the animal shelters in the city. Spending some time there, volunteering and helping out or even taking a few dogs for a walk.”
That was … sweet. Generous and kind and way more than I would have ever expected from him, if my heart skipping a teeny-tiny beat and catching me by surprise was any indication.
I looked down, realizing my fingers were playing with the cuff around my wrist again. “That’s where you took last year’s bidder then?”
“Yes.” I could feel him silently asking me not to go there. Not to ask what Angela had mentioned earlier.
“Oh,” I said distractedly. “Speaking of last year”—I had to ask—“what happened during the auction?”
Aaron’s shoulders tensed, his face falling with resignation. “Not much.”
“Oh yeah?” I feigned surprise. “So, this fierce competition that Angela was talking about, the one I should not be scared of, doesn’t ring any bell?”
I watched his lips twitch and then bend in a pout.
A pout. On Aaron’s lips.
“Like no bells whatsoever?” I pressed, getting acquainted with that expression of his for the first time ever. “Really none?”
Aaron Blackford kept pouting, which in turn made me want to smile as wide as I could go. Not that I would. I suppressed the urge.
“Oh, okay.” I shrugged. “I’m sure getting mobbed by overexcited bidders is a common occurrence for you then, Blackford.” I teased him because how could I not when he looked all … mortified and ready to come out of his skin? Plus, he had teased me first anyway. “How did it happen exactly? Did they fling themselves at you? Or was it perhaps something subtler? Like hurling their money at your feet? Then their underwear?”
If this man had the ability to blush, I would have bet all my money on those cheeks turning red any moment.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You are a big boy anyway.”
Aaron’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Yes, we have stated that.” He moved one step closer. “I can fend for myself.”
“It didn’t sound like that.” My voice came out wobblier than I would have liked.
Then, he took one more step, and something fluttered in my belly.
“Luckily”—he leaned closer, fixating his blue eyes on me—“you are here tonight.”
The flutter intensified. Which did not make any sense. I should have been … what? What should I have been feeling?
“And the highest bid will be yours. Not anyone else’s.”
My heart raced as I looked up at him, feeling overwhelmed in a way that wasn’t strictly negative for how close he was standing.
Aaron didn’t step back; instead, he continued talking, his voice coming closer and closer, “I will take care of the money. The donation will leave my pocket, not yours, so don’t be shy with the bid as long as you beat everyone here. Hurl the money at my feet, if you will. Just make sure it’s you”—he paused, and I felt my throat drying up—“the one buying me. Understood?”
Those last few words seemed to echo in my mind, mingling with the fluttering sensation in my belly, making my skin tingle.
I had to literally step back to force myself to process what he had just told me. I didn’t think I’d be able to donate more than a few hundred dollars on my own, so it was a good thing Aaron had concocted this plan with his checkbook and not mine.
Which led me to consider one of two possibilities: Aaron Blackford truly cared about the cause, or he was wealthy enough not to care how much I donated in his name as long as I spared him a date.
A datewe were supposed to go on after this, if we followed the rules. But one that wouldn’t be real. Because this wasn’t real. It was all an act.
“Well, a deal is a deal, Blackford,” I told him with an awkward shrug, shoving away the strange and hazy thought of going on a date with Aaron. To an animal shelter. And seeing him play with a bunch of cute pups. In his football gear with—
Por el amor de Dios, I have to stop all these mental images.
Aaron’s mouth opened, but before he could speak, a man approached us. He placed a hand on Aaron’s shoulder. The latter turned at the contact and relaxed as soon as he took in the man by his side.
“I cannot believe my eyes.” He patted Aaron’s back firmly. “Is this Aaron Blackford, gracing us with his company tonight? It must be my lucky day.”
Aaron snorted; it was a short and light noise, but I had heard it. “It certainly isn’t mine now that you are here too,” he muttered, the right corner of his lips bent with the ghost of a lopsided smile.
The man—who I assumed was or had been close to Aaron at some point, if his reaction was any indication—shook his head. “Oh hell, that hurt.” He brought a hand to his chest as the dark skin around his eyes wrinkled. “How long has it been since I last saw your nasty face?”
“Not long enough, if you ask me.” Aaron’s face, one that usually remained expressionless, opened up. His body seemed to loosen up as he faced the other man. “How are you, TJ?” I could hear the warmth in his voice. The familiarity.
“I’ve never been better,” TJ—according to what Aaron had called him—nodded. “Happy to be back, believe it or not. Damn, I never thought I’d miss the city.”
A chuckle left me at the exchange, as I was engrossed by this wholly new and different Aaron in front of me. One who was relaxed—just enough to almost smile—and joked—barely—with who I assumed was an old friend.
“But—oh, I see your lonely ass has company tonight. Hi.” TJ straightened, a toothy grin taking over his face. He was probably around Aaron’s age, give or take. His frame was just as wide and almost as tall. His brown eyes took me in with an interest that caught me by surprise. I didn’t think it was interest in me, nope. He seemed to mirror my own fascination with Aaron having someone by his side. “Aren’t you going to introduce me, Big A? Where are your manners?” He elbowed Aaron in the ribs.
Aaron didn’t even flinch at the friendly shove, remaining the immovable wall that he usually was; he was Big A after all, a nickname I’d make sure to query about later. Those lips that I had seen pouting just a few minutes ago opened, but they did too late.
“Fine. I can introduce myself to the lady,” Aaron’s friend said, not giving him a chance to do so himself. He stretched out his hand. “Tyrod James. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”