Chapter 5
Blair
The auction hall is loud and chaotic, packed wall-to-wall with students, athletes, alumni, and even a few professors who definitely shouldn’t be here.
Gold and white lights hang from the rafters, casting a soft glow over round tables covered in crisp white and gold cloths.
The air is thick with the combined scents of too many bodies, sweat, perfume, Alpha musk, nervous Omegas, and the sharp spike of money about to change hands.
Laughter and chatter bounce off the walls while the stage waits under a bright spotlight like it’s daring someone to step up.
I’m sitting near the front with a mix of the wrestling squad and a few baseball guys who decided to come watch the show.
Kenji is on my left, already grinning like an asshole.
Devon is on my right looking like he might pass out from secondhand stress.
Jamal from baseball keeps elbowing me every few seconds.
“Bro,” Kenji says, leaning in close, “you smell like straight Alpha. Like, Roxie Calloway levels of Alpha. What the fuck did you do this morning? We didn’t even have practice.”
Devon’s eyes go wide. “You really smell like her. A lot. Did you…?”
I smirk, but my leg is bouncing under the table. “Mind your own business, Devon.”
Jamal lets out a low whistle. “Reyes, it’s not that serious, man. It’s one night. You really about to drop stupid money just so no one else gets to take her out?”
I don’t even look at him. My eyes are glued to the stage as the announcer steps up to the podium. “This means everything,” I mutter. “If I win her, the wrestling and MMA program’s budget for the entire next year is covered—mats, travel, equipment, all of it. Simple as that.”
Kenji laughs under his breath. “Simple as that, my ass. You’ve been obsessed with that girl since the day she first called your takedown form embarrassing three weeks ago.”
Before I can snap back, the announcer’s voice booms through the speakers.
“And now, one of tonight’s most requested Alphas… Calloway, Roxie – Women’s MMA, senior!”
The curtain parts and Roxie steps onto the stage in a gorgeous baby blue dress that looks like it was poured over her fighter’s body.
The silky fabric clings to her strong shoulders, the curve of her waist, and the powerful lines of her thighs.
It’s softer than anything I’ve ever seen her wear, elegant, feminine, the neckline dipping just enough to make my mouth go dry.
Her long dark hair is pinned up with a few loose pieces framing her face, her makeup subtle but flawless, making her sharp cheekbones and full mouth stand out even more.
She looks stunning but her jaw is locked tight, shoulders squared like she’s walking into a fight instead of an auction. There’s something almost vulnerable in the way she stands there under the bright lights, even as she stares out at the crowd with that signature half-smirk.
The memory of this morning runs through my head and I clamp my thighs together, refusing to lose control here in an auditorium of people. Well, that and the fact that peeling off my underwear and shorts this morning was embarrassing enough.
Bidding starts at two thousand dollars.
I shoot my paddle up immediately. “Ten thousand.”
The hall goes dead silent for a heartbeat, then explodes in murmurs and whispers. Kenji chokes beside me. “Holy shit, Reyes—”
Someone in the back counters quickly. “Eleven thousand.”
I frown, twisting around to find where that person came from.
I did my research. No one’s hit close to ten other than last month when Parker put together enough funds to grab her baseball Alphas.
Not that it matters. I have enough money to basically buy the school.
Well, dad does. I raise my paddle again. “Fifteen.”
They counter. “Sixteen.”
I lift my paddle higher. “Eighteen.”
The back and forth continues, the numbers climbing high in increments of $100 once the announcer takes over again.
Twenty thousand dollars later I’m still standing, paddle raised high, heart pounding in my throat.
Sweat prickles at the back of my neck. The entire room is watching now, some people laughing, others whispering in shock.
My head is on a swivel, glaring at the redhead at the back I’ve been fighting with. A few steps beside her stands Coach Sol, a paddle in her hand as well. As far as I can tell, she hasn’t raised it but it looks like she’s poised to.
What the fuck?
“Twenty thousand!” the announcer calls, looking around the room. “Going once…”
No counter.
“Going twice…”
Silence.
“Sold to paddle forty-seven!”
The gavel comes down.
I did it. I won her.
Roxie’s face flickers with something that looks a lot like triumph for half a second before she locks it down.
She turns sharply and storms off the stage, dress swishing around her legs.
I’m already pushing up from my seat when I meet Coach Sol’s gaze.
She doesn’t even look surprised. She looks… pleased.
I swallow nervously as she tilts her head, smiles at me, and then disappears down the hall, directly toward the gym. Devon leans forward and taps on my arm. “What the fuck was that about? Roxie looks pissed.”
I have no idea if I’m about to get chewed out, thrown out of school, or fucked within an inch of my life if I follow them. I filled out every single waiver and turned the papers in this afternoon, so it can’t be the second one. Probably.
Still, as I weave through the cheering, shouting crowd, the rest of my teammates yelling shit like “Reyes you absolute madman!” and “Bro really just spent twenty grand like it’s nothing!”—my pulse is racing.