Switch Bidder (Jock Hard 2.50)

So bundled up, and kind of stinkin’ cute.

I study the visible part of her face, still propping the door open with the toe of my boot.

Her brows go up.

I know I know her from somewhere…

“Uh…” Her voice trails off. “Are you going to let me pass?”

Was I staring? “Shit. Sorry.”

“Well, thanks for the help.” Scoots past me and almost gets to the second set of doors before my next question stops her.

“Why haven’t you called me?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re Piper Davenport, aren’t you?” Fuck, what if it’s not her?

“I…” The rest of her words get lodged in her throat. “Yes.”

This is the girl who won me at the Lambda charity auction and never called.

I wondered about that, wondered why the hell someone would pay two hundred bucks and then stiff a dude instead of contacting him. What kind of girl has the kind of money lying around where she’d win something and not claim it?

It made no fucking sense, and it makes even less sense to me now that she’s standing in front of me, obviously embarrassed.

“Weren’t we in an econ class together once?”

Her dark brows shoot into her hairline, surprised. “Yes?”

“I remember you.”

Of course I remember her, because Piper Davenport is all kinds of sweet and adorable. All smiles and good vibes, I could feel her eyes on me every time I took my seat in the front of the class—until I finally got glasses so I could actually see the notes the professor was writing. I wouldn’t have noticed her, but my friend Kevin briefly had a crush on her our sophomore year and wouldn’t shut up about her.

He never asked her out, though, the giant pussy. Stared at her plenty, but wouldn’t talk to her. He’s fucking some random chick now, blonde, big tits—won’t last long, and she’ll probably try to get herself pregnant.

Piper shuffles her feet, readjusting the weight of the blue backpack slung over her shoulder.

I get back to my original question. “Why haven’t you called me?”

She shrugs.

“Do you plan to?”

Her head jerks side to side.

“Why?”

“I don’t…know.”

“You’d rather piss away two hundred fifty bucks than call me.” It’s more of a statement, less of a question.

“Technically, I didn’t piss away that money. My friend Mallory did.”

That makes even less sense.

“She’s the one who bid on you. Then paid.”

“But your name was on the winner form.” I’m so fucking confused.

“I know.”

“And…neither of you is going to call me?”

“No.”

Huh.

Why am I pushing the subject with her? Half the guys from the auction ended up cleaning dirty apartments—unclogging drains, taking out garbage, scrubbing floors on their hands and knees. Axel Holzinger had to get a freaking live bat out of some chick’s attic and only had a bucket, an oven mitt, and a tennis racket.

I should count myself lucky Piper hasn’t called in the favor of her winning bid.

“All right,” I finally say into the silence, letting the words hang there, offering up nothing more.

Piper Davenport’s lips are zipped shut, but she offers me a tight smile.

“Well, I guess I’ll…see you around.”

Right.

Or not, since you’re not planning to call—it’s on the tip of my tongue to add, but I fight the urge. I’m not a big enough asshole to stoop to being snarky. Besides, what do I care if she calls or not?

Although…

“Do I scare you?”

She turns, hand on the metal bar across the door, ready to push.

“Huh?”

“Did you not call because I scare you?”

It’s not unrealistic to think she might be.

I’m a big guy, solid. At six foot two and a little over two hundred and fifty pounds, I loom over almost everyone. Not many people are intimidated by my size, but some are, mostly women, especially the short ones—like Piper.

Really, I’m harmless.

Big, but harmless.

Piper offers me another smile, this one friendlier. Almost regretful? “No, Ryder, you don’t scare me.”

Oh. “Good.”

Except now I’m even more confused.

Without so much as a backward glance, Piper finally pushes her way through the door, letting the winter wind blow through the lobby, forging onward with all her might until she’s outside in the cold. Hair billowing out around her head in a million different directions.

She hunkers down, head bent, breaking into a jog. Crosses the street, shoving her key into the driver’s side of a cute, red Jeep. Tosses her shit in and hops up.

I stand, watching as the muffler kicks out steam, as the brake lights go on and she backs out of the parking spot.

Watch until she’s gone, until there’s nothing for me to do but go inside the library and study.

Chapter Three

Piper

Even three hours later, my heart is still racing a million beats per minute. A slight exaggeration, maybe, but it might as well be. I don’t think I’ve been this fidgety since Mallory entered me to sing with her in the high school talent show.

A wry smile crosses my face.