Switch Bidder (Jock Hard 2.50)

I wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass me by.

When I found out Piper bid on me at the Lambda auction a few weeks ago, my goddamn heart almost exploded out of my chest.

Then, when she never contacted me—well, let’s just say that fucking sucked.

I’ve never had a problem getting a girl’s attention before. As an athlete, I actually have the opposite problem—girls I have zero interest in throwing themselves at me.

I never get nervous, but I’m nervous now while waiting on Piper. I run my palms down the front of my jeans, wiping the sweat gathered on my skin, staring toward the entrance.

A car pulls up, its headlights shining through the clear glass door, and my heart races, knowing it’s her. Tempted to run a hand through my hair, I shove them in the pockets of my pants.

“Quit fidgeting, asshole,” I mumble.

Jesus Christ, you’ve played in stadiums of thousands and thousands of people, and one girl is making you nervous? Get a freaking grip.

Within minutes, Piper is through the front door, glancing around before spotting me, her long brown hair loose around her shoulders. She’s not wearing a jacket, only a sweater, and her ripped skinny jeans have holes in the knees.

Man she’s cute.

Pretty.

Two seconds later, she’s at my side.

“Hey.” Blows a strand of hair out of her mouth, shouldering her purse. “Are we all set?”

“Uh, yeah. I also got us something to drink, but I wasn’t sure if you were a red wine drinker or white.”

We settle in, choosing to paint a colorful abstract and not scenery or a bowl of fruit or whatever. That shit is lame, and I’d never hang it in my house. Not in a million fucking years.

Sitting next to Piper on a stool, our thighs almost touching almost has me forgetting how to hold a damn paintbrush. The wine I’ve chugged to quell my nerves isn’t exactly helping either.

She tilts her head, and I catch a whiff of her hair.

Take a drink—a chug, actually—of my wine, and smile at her. She’s gone rogue with her canvas, adding a few things to it that aren’t on the one we’re copying, so I stare at mine with renewed interest.

Huh. A blob of blue here might be fun and Jesus, what the hell am I saying?

“Are you enjoying this?” Her voice interrupts, sending my brush streaking across my painting.

Shit.

“I’m way more into it than I thought I would be.”

“Me too. I’ve always wanted to come do this. I don’t know why I never have before—I’ll have to bring my friends soon.” Piper pauses. “Although, a few of them are unruly, and I’m not sure we’d be allowed to stay.”

“Unruly?” I cock my head.

“Yeah. My best friend, Mallory, is a beast. She just cannot follow directions, and she’s loud.”

“Has she ever gotten you in trouble?”

Piper laughs sweetly. “I don’t have enough fingers and toes to count how many times she’s gotten me into trouble.”

“I have a few friends like that.”

Her brush swirls round and round on a white spot in the corner of her canvas, filling it with the color red. She leans over, dabbing some yellow onto her brush.

Swish, swish.

I’m mesmerized by her delicate hands and light strokes. The pale skin on her wrist, the thin gold band circling her middle finger. She has another ring on her index finger, the letter P etched in the metal.

I follow the length of her extended arm, over the soft fabric of her thin, gray sweater. Study her profile under the bright studio light. The slight curve of her nose, the freckles dotting her skin.

I watch as her cheeks turn a light shade of pink, her mouth curving into a slight smile.

“Please quit staring.” Her tone is teasing, but I can tell she’s embarrassed.

“Sorry. It’s just that…”

Just that…I think you’re so fucking pretty.

Just that…I’m really fucking disappointed you never called me at the end of that auction and I’m really disappointed your friend is the one who bid on me, not you.

“Ryder?” she asks when I say nothing.

“I wish I’d asked you out sooner.”

“I’m sorry?” She doesn’t understand.

“My friend had a crush on you for a hot minute, and I wasn’t about to get my ass kicked for liking you too, so I never asked you out.”

“Huh?”

“Bro code.”

“I know what bro code is, I’m just really confused right now?” All her statements are coming out as questions, which is adorable, but…

Crap.

Is she going to make me repeat myself?

Piper stops painting long enough to twist her body toward me, barely able to make eye contact but facing me nonetheless. This close up, her green eyes are brighter, flecks of gold in the irises, black lashes downcast and bashful.

Her right hand holds her paintbrush suspended mid-stroke.

Head cocks.

Eyes widen.

I fidget again on my stool.

“I wasn’t disappointed you never called me after the auction because of the fundraising, or the fraternity. I was disappointed because I wanted to spend time with you and that was the perfect excuse.”