Page 2 of The Auction (The Black Ledger Billionaires #4)

I t takes exactly two seconds once we’re back inside to find some unknowing accomplices to our ploy. One guy spots us, nudges his friend who looks immediately. Bree giggles and pulls me toward them. A space opens in their circle without a word.

Bree slides in like she owns it, looping her arm around some guy and making him laugh hard enough to nearly spill his drink. I follow her lead, letting a small smile play at my mouth.

A guy I haven’t seen yet—tall, tan, good posture—steps toward me with one of the cups, offering it like it’s a rose on a silver platter. “You looked like you could use one,” he says, grinning. I take the cup, fingers brushing his, and let my smile widen a little. “That obvious?”

“Just enough to be charming.”

He’s definitely an athlete. Baseball, I think—he’s got the build for it.

Strong shoulders, forearms that could probably crack a bat in half.

His shirt clings a little from the heat, and there’s a smear of something near his collarbone that suggests he’s already survived one beer pong incident tonight.

He’s not bad to look at. He’s even better when he angles himself slightly toward me, giving me his full attention while the conversation swirls around us.

He’ll do.

I laugh at something he says, tossing my hair back and resting my hand on his arm. My gaze isn’t on him, though—it drifts toward the kitchen, where I know Jaxon is with Jonathan. I catch glimpses of him, but he never looks my way.

“You want to dance?” he asks.

I give Baseball Boy my best smile. “Sure.”

The dance floor—or what passes for one—is crowded, hazy with the heat of too many bodies and the undercurrent of alcohol, perfume, and sweat. The lights flicker low and rhythmic, turning faces into silhouettes and shadows.

The music pulses in my chest, the beat vibrating up through my heels as Baseball wraps his arm casually around my waist and pulls me into the crush of the crowd.

It’s not awkward. He knows how to move.

He’s confident, smooth, pulling me close in a way that’s intentional but not gross. His hand presses into the small of my back, just enough to guide me, and our hips fall into the rhythm of the song without too much effort.

Behind him, Bree is already dancing—somehow on beat and off the rails at the same time—and she flashes me a quick thumbs-up as she twirls.

I keep my eyes down. Let my body move. Let myself be pulled into the moment.

Then I feel it again.

That prickle. That pressure.

I glance toward the edge of the dance floor, back toward the kitchen—and this time, he’s there.

Jaxon. He’s standing in a loose circle of guys, drink still in hand, but he’s facing me .

His eyes lift and like a magnet, he finds me. Instantly.

Like he already been watching. Already knew where I was.

Our eyes meet and for a long second, neither of us looks away.

He raises one brow, slowly.

And I don’t even think—I just wink.

His lips curve, barely. Just a flicker. But it’s there.

This just turned into a game and I know sure as shit neither of us wants to be the one to lose it.

Baseball slides his arms around my waist, securing me against him. He’s warm, solid, moving in rhythm with the beat like its second nature.

I rest my hands on his shoulders, palms flat, fingers curling slightly in the fabric of his shirt. He leans in, mouth close to my ear, his breath warm against my skin.

“You having a good time?”

I smile—small, practiced—and nod. “Yeah.”

He pulls back just enough to inhale, slow and deliberate. “You smell really good.”

Then his lips press softly to the curve of my neck.

The first kiss is light. Testing.

The second is firmer. Lingering.

And for a second, I don’t move.

It feels… nice.

Really nice.

I close my eyes. Let the sensation wash over me. Let my mind drift to the only place it wants to go. I pretend it’s Jaxon’s mouth on my skin. His breath warming my neck. His body surrounding mine.

And for that brief, indulgent moment, I sink into the fantasy. I exhale a moan and Baseball Boy takes that as encouragement to amp it up a bit.

He wraps one arm tighter around me, pulling me close, anchoring me there. The other hand slides lower—down the curve of my back until it finds the round of my ass.

He cups it, bold and unbothered, fingers flexing slightly as he pulls me against him.

That’s when I feel the hard press of his erection against my hip, unmistakably eager.

My breath catches.

It’s not that I didn’t know where this was heading. It’s that I didn’t expect the spark of panic threading through the heat.

I’ve never done anything like this before.

Never kissed someone like this. Never danced with someone so close I could feel everything.

And the idea of doing it here, now… with a boy whose name I still don’t know… while my long-time crush is standing thirty feet away— watching ?—

I open my eyes. “Um,”

“I’m sorry. You’re just—so fucking beautiful.” He adjusts his arms around me and keeps swaying. “How about some fresh air?”

I nod, tapping Bree on the arm as he holds my hand, pulling me toward the backdoor. Bree and her pair of admirers follow.

The backyard is lit in pockets—strings of bulbs winding along the wooden fence and the occasional cell phone flashlight flickering on someone’s face. The party has bled outside, groups scattered around in mismatched patio chairs and upturned milk crates, drinks in hand.

And Jaxon is out here too. Well this is kind of perfect.

He’s across the yard, leaning against the railing of the back porch with one hand in his pocket, a red cup in the other. He’s surrounded by a few guys, including my brother. And his eyes are right on me.

“Cass,” Baseball Boy sits in one of the metal chairs surrounding a round table. He grins and pats the empty space on his lap, legs spread wide like he’s just daring me to say no.

I hesitate just long enough for it to feel coy, then lower myself into the space like I was always meant to be there.

My tight green dress rides up like it knows we’re putting on a show.

It was barely appropriate when I was standing. Now, seated sideways across his lap, one leg draped over his, it’s a borderline scandal.

When I glance up, I swear Jaxon’s jaw is tight.

Tense in a way that wasn’t there five seconds ago.

My lips curve. Just slightly.

I turn toward Matt again, letting my fingers toy with the edge of his collar, nails brushing his skin like a casual afterthought.

We look like an actual couple. His hand doesn’t leave my thigh. He keeps talking, keeps laughing, keeps pulling me closer like I belong there. Every so often, he kisses my neck or my shoulder—soft, slow, casual. A little too comfortable.

And honestly?

He’s cute. Really cute.

If I wasn’t so hopelessly wrapped around the idea of Jaxon Kane, I’d probably fall for this one in a heartbeat.

Across the yard, Jaxon shifts.

He pulls his phone from his pocket, his brows pinching together as he taps something out.

And when he’s done, he slides it back into his jeans and looks up.

His eyes find me instantly.

And this time, there's no teasing gleam or faint smile. Just something dark. Heavy. Like he’s pissed.

I turn back toward Matt just as he finishes a story, and he looks at me—eyes moving from mine to my mouth.

“You wanna take a walk?” he asks.

My pulse stutters.

He must sense it, because he immediately adds, “Not far. Just a little loud over here, you know?”

He gestures with his head toward the far end of the yard. A patch of lawn lit only by the faint glow of fence lights.

“We won’t go any further than that,” he promises.

It’s actually kind of sweet. He’s been handsy, sure, but he’s not pushed. And right now, I’m not even sure if I’m attracted to him . Of being wanted . Or of being watched . But everything happening in the backyard is really turning me on.

“Okay,”

He helps me to my feet and laces his fingers through mine like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

As we walk across the lawn, someone calls out, “Hey Matt! You headed out?”

Oh thank God. That’s his name.

I bite back a smirk and glance down, pretending to study the grass—because when that guy called his name, I felt Jaxon’s head snap in our direction.

Matt laughs. “Nah. Just taking a walk.”

We stop right where Matt said we would. He turns to face me, hands slipping into his pockets like he’s suddenly nervous.

I kind of am, too.

“You look incredible,” Matt says softly. His eyes are warm. Honest. “I mean it. That dress, your hair…” He smiles, a little bashful. “You’re really something, Cassidy.”

I exhale slowly and feel my cheeks burn. “Thanks.”

He shifts closer, thumb brushing mine where our hands are still linked.

“Can I get your number?” he asks. “I’d love to talk to you again. Maybe take you out sometime?”

I hesitate, biting my lip, then nod. “Yeah. Okay.”

His grin spreads wide across his face. He hands me his phone, and I type in my number, saving it as just Cassidy.

When I give it back, he wraps one arm around my waist again, slow and careful.

His voice drops, low and husky. “I really want to kiss you, Cass.”

The air sticks in my throat.

I’m about to answer—one way or another—when the back door flies open.

“Matt!” someone yells, breathless. “Coach is on his way to inspect our dorms. We’re dead if we’re not in our rooms in ten!”

Matt’s head jerks around. “Shit.”

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly, spinning back to me. “I’ve gotta go. Like, right now. ”

Before I can say a word, he leans in and presses a quick kiss to my cheek. “I’ll call you.”

And in a second, he’s gone.

Running back toward the house with two other guys trailing him, cutting across the yard and disappearing into the chaos.

Leaving me standing there.

Alone.

Again.