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WEST

T oo fidgety to sit down, I stood at the back of the large events room at the Botanical Gardens, praying for my heart to stop pounding so hard.

Tonight, everything was at stake—the help that the Star Finders Foundation so desperately needed and the possibility of a future I craved but didn’t know how to bring into existence.

The scent of peonies hung in the air, but the beautiful perfume did nothing to ease my nerves. My palms were sweaty as I gripped the auction paddle, debating whether I’d actually have the guts to use it.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage, Mr. Andrew Carter!”

The crowd erupted in applause as Drew bounded onto the stage, flashing his beautiful, bright smile that never failed to make my knees go weak. Damn, he looked good in his gray suit. He stood tall and confident, the suit hugging his lean frame perfectly.

“Okay, everyone!” The emcee’s voice boomed through the speakers. “Who’s ready to bid for a chance to learn how to make cocktails from the best bartender in the city?” More cheers and whistles. “But first, let’s have a word from the man himself.”

A smile tugged at my lips despite my nerves. Drew had a way of lighting up any room—or, in this case, the Botanical Gardens. His enthusiasm was infectious, but I knew the real Drew beneath the facade.

As he launched into his spiel about the Foundation’s work, I found myself hanging on his every word, entranced. It wasn’t just his looks—though let’s be real, the guy was unfairly gorgeous. It was his passion, his genuine desire to help kids who’d been through the same crap we had.

Then, the emcee took over to sell what was really being auctioned.

“All right, folks, let’s start the bidding at five hundred. Do I hear five hundred?”

This was it. My moment of truth. Could I actually go through with this? Bid on my best friend like he was a prize to be won? But if I didn’t, who knew who might snatch him up? And what if they really hit it off during the cocktail class and then wanted more?

I knew Drew dated occasionally, but I’d never met any of his boyfriends. He was a private person, so I assumed things had never become serious enough for him to bring a guy into our space. It was selfish, but I liked that.

I raised my paddle, heart in my throat. “Five hundred,” I called out, my voice shakier than I would’ve liked.

Drew’s eyes found mine in the crowd, his smile giving me confidence that I was doing the right thing. Before I could count my wins, another voice rang out.

“One thousand!”

Crap. Game on, I guess.

A gentle nudge to my ribs made me jump. I turned to see Noah grinning at me, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Well, well, look who’s finally making a move,” he whispered, waggling his eyebrows. “About damn time, West. I was starting to think I’d have to auction off your backbone.”

I felt heat creep up my neck. “I’m not—it’s not like that,” I stammered, unwilling to admit it really was like that.

Noah snorted. “Sure, and I didn’t slip and fall on my husband’s dick when I saw him in the suit he’s wearing tonight. Come on, man. You’ve been pining after Drew for months. This is your chance!”

I shot Noah a glare, but my focus was pulled back when the bidding continued to climb. “Two thousand!” another voice called from the opposite side of the room. I scanned the crowd and spotted Patrick McMartin, smiling like he’d already won. My stomach twisted.

“Noah, what do I do?” I hissed under my breath, panic rising as the numbers soared far beyond what I could responsibly bid without dipping into savings meant for emergencies.

“You bid higher, you big idiot,” Noah said as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “You love him, right?”

I nodded slowly, tearing my eyes away from Drew reluctantly.

“Then show him. Show everyone here.” Noah’s tone softened. “West, you can’t let fear hold you back forever. Trust me, if you don’t step up now, you’ll regret it.”

His words hit home, mixing with the determination and hesitation in my gut. I swallowed hard, my gaze drawn back to Drew on stage.

The bidding escalated quickly, each raise of a paddle sending my heart rate skyrocketing. “Two thousand five hundred!” a voice called out. I countered immediately, “Three thousand!” My resolve strengthened with each bid, Drew’s encouraging smile fueling my determination.

“Four thousand.” Another challenger.

“Four thousand five hundred.” I gritted my teeth as I waited. I couldn’t go higher without serious financial consequences for me. If I could, that money would already be in the Foundation’s bank account, no auction required.

“Four thousand five hundred from the gentleman in the blue tie!” the auctioneer announced, pointing at me. “Can we round it up?”

I allowed myself a moment of hope. Was this it? Had I won?

Suddenly, a smooth, authoritative voice cut through the crowd. “Five thousand.”

The venue fell silent.

Patrick McMartin sat with his parents, his jet-black hair catching the light as his mom clapped proudly.

I clenched my fists, torn between upping my bid and the very real fear of antagonizing important patrons of the Foundation. Not to mention, Cara and John were decent people, on top of being some of the most generous I’d ever met. They’d adopted their three kids to stop them from being separated when they lost their parents.

It shouldn’t surprise me that Patrick had the same philanthropist heart as his parents, especially knowing he could have easily gotten lost in the system all those years ago, just like Drew and I had.

But did Patrick have to be so…good-looking?

My throat constricted as I struggled to form words. The auctioneer’s gaze swept over the crowd, lingering on me expectantly. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My mind raced, calculating the risks. Challenging Patrick could jeopardize the Foundation’s relationship with its donors, but letting Drew go felt like a betrayal.

“Going once…” the auctioneer called.

I caught Drew’s eye, saw a flicker of…disappointment? I couldn’t tell.

“Going twice…”

Patrick turned to face me for the first time since bidding started. He gave me a courteous nod as the emcee announced, “Sold! To Dr. McMartin for five thousand dollars!”

The crowd erupted in applause, but it sounded distant, muffled. I watched, still, as Drew descended from the stage and walked around the tables. My chest tightened as Patrick met him halfway, greeting Drew with a warm embrace.

My bitter thought was that it should be me.

As I watched them walk away, heads bent close in conversation, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d just lost something far more valuable than a charity auction.

My fingers twitched, itching to run through my hair, but I resisted. Instead, I clenched my fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms.

“Well, that was…unexpected,” Noah’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts.

I tried to muster a smile, but it felt more like a grimace.

Noah nudged me with his elbow. “Hey, cheer up. At least now you know Drew’s worth five grand. That’s gotta be flattering, right?”

I let out a small, bitter laugh. “Flattering for Drew. For me? Well, I’m in love with a gorgeous man who can have literally anyone else he wants.”

“Come on, West,” Noah said, his tone softening. “It’s not the end of the world. There’ll be other chances.”

I sighed, finally giving in to the urge to run my hand through my hair. “Will there though? You saw how Patrick looked at Drew. The McMartins are great, but I don’t know Patrick. What if he goes to Mommy and Daddy and convinces them to pull their donations. We can’t risk that.”

Noah’s brow furrowed. “You really think he’d do that?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my gaze drifting back to where Drew and Patrick had disappeared into the crowd. “But I can’t take that chance. There are too many kids counting on us.”

“All right, enough doom and gloom,” Noah declared, clapping me on the shoulder. “You know what you need? A drink. And lucky for you, I happen to know where we can find the second-best bartender in Cliffborough.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Second-best?”

Noah grinned. “Well, Drew’s obviously the best, but he’s a bit…occupied at the moment.”

I winced at the reminder but couldn’t help the genuine smile that tugged at my lips. “You’re terrible, you know that?”

“That’s why you love me,” Noah replied cheerfully. “Now come on, let’s drown your sorrows in overpriced champagne. Who knows? Maybe you’ll even catch the eye of some other eligible bachelor and make Drew jealous.”

I rolled my eyes but allowed Noah to steer me toward the bar. “Yeah, because that’s exactly what this situation needs—more complications.”

As we wove through the crowd, I couldn’t shake the weight settling on my chest. But Noah was right. A drink would at least keep me distracted long enough to stop thinking about Drew, or Patrick.

I doubted it would work, but I could try, right?