3. Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Adam
Poppy’s standing near the end of the lineup like she’s hoping no one will notice her. As if that’s even remotely possible.
The other women look like they walked off a runway—sleek dresses, glossy lipstick, designer heels that click elegantly across the hardwood floor. But Poppy?
She’s a vision in a wrinkled gray pantsuit, loafers planted solidly on the ground, and her hair twisted up in a messy bun with a damn pencil shoved through it.
And somehow, she’s the most beautiful woman in the room.
There’s a smudge of ink on her hand and something tired—but fierce—in her eyes. That fire I remember. That brain that could run legal circles around anyone in our class. That heart that cared too much. Still does, if this charity auction is anything to go by.
She doesn’t see me yet. Her gaze is scanning the crowd, probably calculating how quickly she can escape when this is over. She looks like she’d rather be anywhere else—like she just came from court and didn’t even stop to change, which, knowing her, is exactly what happened.
The emcee—a guy in a sequined bowtie and an unfortunate mic headset—clears his throat. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for the Hawks Roost Bachelor and Bachelorette Charity Auction! Let’s raise money for great causes and send these wonderful participants on the dates of their dreams!”
Applause ripples through the room as the first woman steps forward. The bidding starts fast—$200, $300, $500. The room’s full of energy and playful elbow nudges. I clap along, waiting for my moment.
It comes faster than I expect.
“And next up, we have Poppy Prine,” the emcee says. “She’s a passionate advocate for youth justice, and proceeds from her auction will benefit Youth Focused Tennessee. Let’s show her some love!”
Poppy steps forward, clearly trying to shrink as she does. Her cheeks are pink, but her chin’s lifted. She meets the crowd with quiet defiance.
I raise my hand. “One thousand dollars.”
The room goes still.
Not just still— dead .
Forks freeze halfway to mouths. A glass clinks to the floor. Someone coughs in the back, loud and awkward. All eyes swivel toward me.
The emcee blinks like he wasn’t expecting the night to turn into a campaign rally. “Uh—one thousand from… the Governor.”
He says it like it’s a spelling bee and he just forgot how letters work.
A few seats over, a man in a sports jacket hesitantly lifts a hand. “One thou—”
“No, you idiot!” his friend hisses, grabbing his arm and yanking it down so hard the guy nearly topples sideways. “You can’t bid against the governor! ”
The poor guy throws his hands up like he’s just been accused of treason. “I didn’t know! I panicked!”
Poppy’s looking at me now.
She sees me.
Her eyes go wide with shock.
I should say something suave. Something meaningful. But my brain short-circuits because this woman—this brilliant, stubborn woman who once made flashcards for fun —is standing ten feet away from me with a pencil in her hair and stars in her eyes, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like maybe I’m not destined to be alone.
I want to impress her. I want to help her charity. I want to stake my claim without looking like a lunatic.
So, naturally, I ignore the complete silence and shout, “Ten thousand dollars!”
A gasp ripples through the room.
The emcee fumbles the mic, catches it, then stammers, “Uh—well! Looks like we’ve got… ten thousand going once!”
I hear someone whisper, “Did he just bid against himself?”
Poppy’s mouth drops open slightly, her expression unreadable. Her arms are stiff at her sides like she’s not sure whether to strangle me or hug me.
God, I’ve missed her.
The emcee recovers. “Going twice… sold! To Governor Adam Boston!”
I stride forward, my shoes echoing across the floor like gavel strikes, and meet her at the steps of the stage.
For a second, we just stand there.
She looks up at me, one brow raised. “You do realize no one else bid, right?”
I grin. “Just making sure I locked it in.”
A beat of silence. Then she laughs—a real one. Loud, unfiltered, and just as I remembered it.
I’d pay ten thousand more to hear it again.