Campus Rival (CFU Hockey #2)

Chapter 1

ONE

Three hundred dollars was a small price to pay for revenge.

The student center ballroom buzzed with an energy that made my skin crawl. String lights cast everything in a romantic glow that felt completely wrong for what was about to happen, and the folding chairs filled with excited sorority girls made me want to turn around and walk right back out.

But I had three hundred dollars burning a hole in my purse and a very specific target in mind.

“I still can’t believe you’re actually going through with this,” Rachel whispered beside me, clutching her own auction paddle. My roommate from the music house had insisted on coming for moral support, though I suspected she was mostly here for the entertainment value.

“Neither can I,” I admitted, scanning the crowd of mostly female students. The hockey team’s fundraiser had drawn quite the audience. “But desperate times call for desperate measures.”

And Drew Dumontier had it coming.

He’d found endless ways to humiliate me over the years, but I knew nothing would stroke his ego like me betting on him and making him think I actually wanted to go out with him.

As if.

I’d rather eat a stranger’s toenail clippings than go out on a date with him.

But after rehearsal one night, right as we’d passed a sign for the hockey bachelor auction, Brody, the cellist in my orchestra, mentioned our need for crew support at the recital next weekend. And an idea had sparked in my mind that I couldn’t let go of.

It would kill Drew to have to play gofer for a Tinsley, so it seemed like the perfect way to get back at him for his most recent set of pranks. Honestly, I was overdue for payback.

I patted my purse again, hoping I really wouldn’t need to spend all three hundred dollars on his lame ass, but I knew how thirsty sorority girls got around these hockey guys, so I was prepared for the worst-case scenario.

“Welcome, everyone, to the first annual Clark Fork University Hockey Bachelor Auction,” Ava Dumontier’s voice boomed through the microphone as she took the stage.

Drew’s twin sister looked completely in her element, beaming at the crowd with the kind of confidence I both envied and despised.

In another life—one where our families hadn’t been feuding for generations—I imagined we might even be friends.

“I’m Ava Dumontier, your emcee for the evening.

All proceeds tonight go directly to supporting our hockey team’s travel and equipment costs.

Remember, you’re bidding on a date with these fine gentlemen, nothing more.

And now, for the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Let the bachelor bidding begin!”

The crowd cheered, and I forced myself to smile and clap along, even though the idea of supporting Drew in any way had me gritting my teeth.

Just picture him wearing the shirt Brody made and getting to post it all over social media, I thought to myself, and for the first time tonight, my smile was genuine. It might’ve looked a bit like how the Grinch smiled when he got the idea to steal from the Whos, but I didn’t care.

I would win this stupid feud between us and get back at him for all the bullshit pranks he’d pulled on me over the years.

“Let’s get this show on the road with bachelor number one—the man, the myth, the legend—Liam ‘the Hot Irishman’ Farrell!”

I shook my head subtly as Liam strutted onto the stage to wolf whistles and excited squeals while “I’m Too Sexy” blared from the speakers.

He’d always been overly confident when we were kids, but he’d really found his element in college as a total ladies’ man.

I’d probably find him attractive if he wasn’t best friends with the devil Dumontier.

Ava read from a card. “Liam is a sophomore defenseman from Montana who enjoys long walks to the refrigerator and has been known to quote poetry when drunk. Ladies, the starting bid is twenty dollars. Who wants to try their luck with the Hot Irishman?”

The bidding started immediately and escalated quickly, finally ending when some blonde in the back won him for $175.

Several more players were auctioned off, each introduction more ridiculous than the last. I watched the bids climb higher and higher, my nerves ratcheting up with them as I realized the stakes were steeper than I’d anticipated.

Thank God I’d brought way more money than I’d thought I’d actually spend—this crowd was definitely as thirsty as I’d feared.

“Next up,” Ava announced, “we have the strong, silent type—Harrison ‘Gordy’ Gordon!”

I wasn’t super familiar with Gordy even though we were neighbors. He was tall with black hair and gray eyes. He was the quiet type and far more serious than the other hockey guys. I wasn’t even sure I’d ever heard him talk.

Right now, he looked like he’d rather be anywhere but on that stage.

“Gordy is our star goalie who stops pucks with the same efficiency that he stops conversations with his dry wit. Starting bid is twenty dollars!”

The bidding for Gordy was competitive but not outrageous, ending at $120. He looked relieved when it was over, giving a polite nod to the girl who’d won him.

“And now,” Ava said, building suspense, “our team captain. The man with the moves both on and off the ice—Foster ‘Candy Kane’ Kane!”

I figured this one would be an easy win considering everyone knew how in love Foster was with his girlfriend, Abby Walker. He’d never been a big dater as far as I could tell, but anyone with eyes could see he was totally sunk for Abby. I was pretty sure in Foster’s world, no other women existed.

What was it like to have someone love you that completely?

To my surprise, the bidding wasn’t as cut-and-dried—or cheap—as I expected it to be after another girl started competing with Abby for a date with Foster. Who the hell was this girl and what on earth was she thinking?

I saw Abby turn to her friend when the bidding hit two hundred dollars, and I sympathized with her look of panic. I almost gave up my revenge plot right then and there to give her the money in my bag, but then Gordy sat behind her and whispered something to her.

She raised her paddle. “Two hundred and fifty.”

The other girl raised her bid again.

Seriously?

“Three fifty,” came another voice I recognized easily from growing up around his subtle Irish lilt. Liam appeared beside her, stuffing more bills into her hand.

It hit me like a lightning strike—the other players were helping her win the bid.

Warmth filled my bones. It really was too bad that they were friends with Dumontier because apart from that obviously terrible taste in judgment, they seemed like great guys.

Drew even joined in to help, which managed to remove any warmth I’d felt about the display of loyalty they were showing their captain’s girlfriend.

He could carry an old woman across the street and I’d still think he was scum of the earth.

Samantha Lowe, who, in a strange turn of events, had recently moved into the hockey house after Foster moved out, stood up and glared daggers at the other girl.

I sure as shit wouldn’t want to be on the other side of that stare off.

No wonder she and Abby were best friends. She was kind of a badass.

Finally the girl realized that not a single soul in the room was on her side, and she dropped her paddle down, effectively letting Abby win her boyfriend.

Ava took over again once Foster got off the stage.

“Next up, we have my brother, Drew ‘Monty’ Dumontier. Despite being related to me, he’s actually not terrible at hockey.

He enjoys long walks on the beach and getting caught with his pants down in inappropriate places—wish I were kidding.

Starting bid is twenty dollars, though personally, I wouldn’t pay more than ten. ”

I wish I only had to pay ten. Fuck knows that really was all he was worth.

Drew flipped her off discreetly as he walked on stage in jeans and a tight-fitting white T-shirt. I hated to admit that he looked good, but he had honed his body through years of hockey and it showed. He had the same easy confidence as Foster but with an added edge of mischief in his smile.

His sandy-brown hair was perfectly tousled in that effortless way that probably took him twenty minutes to achieve, and when he flashed that trademark mischievous smile at the crowd, I was positive several girls actually swooned.

God, he was insufferable.

The bidding started fairly tame until two seconds into it when he pulled off his shirt—because of fucking course he did.

The bids took off after that, and with every raise of my paddle, I truly questioned my sanity.

When it hit two hundred dollars, most of the other women dropped out, except one blonde sorority girl, based on the letters she was wearing on her shirt.

“Two twenty,” I called out with way more confidence than I felt.

Fake it ’til you make it and all that.

“Two forty,” the blonde called.

Fuck my life.

I needed to end this. I could already see Drew’s glimmer of glee, and like hell would I lose when it was just down to me and one other girl. I could already vividly imagine the taunting I’d get from him.

Hell, no.

“Three hundred.”

My heart thundered loudly in my ears, but I saw the other girl shake her head and lower her paddle, and relief hit me so hard, I almost sagged back in my chair. But I had to maintain this picture of confidence as long as Drew was around.

“Sold to Harper Tinsley for three hundred dollars!” Ava announced, looking so surprised I almost laughed.

But it was Drew’s expression that was absolutely priceless—a mixture of shock and suspicion. He was right to be suspicious.

He stepped off the stage and approached me. This was it. The moment I’d been waiting for. I was practically shaking from the giddiness of seeing what his reaction would be when he learned the true reason I just dropped three hundred dollars on him.

“I’m surprised you bid on me,” he said as he leaned over the chair in the row in front of me. “Where do you want to go for our date? Dinner? Movie? I know a great spot by the river.”

Was he serious?

I burst out laughing, absolute glee filling me. God, this was going to be even better than I’d planned.

“Oh, Dumontier, I don’t want to date you. I wouldn’t date you if you were the last man alive.”

His arrogant smile faltered. “Then why—”

“I need an assistant for my recital next weekend. Someone to fetch coffee, carry instruments, hold cue cards, and act as my personal hype man. You’ll be perfect.”

His face fell and I wished Rachel would snap a pic for me because damn did I want to remember this moment. “You’re shitting me.”

“I even had a special shirt made,” I continued, pulling a folded T-shirt from my bag and holding it up. It was black with #TinsleyHypeCrew printed across the chest in bold white letters.

I couldn’t decide if his expression was more shock or horror as he took the shirt, but it didn’t really matter because I felt ten feet tall right then. He thought he could continue to get the upper hand with me, but that was absolutely never going to happen. I would never stop fighting him.

“Cheer up, Andy. I’ll make sure you earn every penny of that three hundred dollars.”

He glared at me. “Don’t call me that.”

I knew he hated that name. He’d gone by Drew for as long as I could remember, but I never forgot that his real name was Andrew, and “Andy” was my preferred taunt when he was especially pissing me off. Right now it felt like rubbing salt in the wound of my victory.

He turned away without another word and walked back to his seat, while I leaned back in mine and tucked a piece of my curly hair behind my ear.

Despite spending the entire amount I’d brought, I’d call this a win overall.

“Holy shit, Harper. I can’t believe you just did that,” Rachel said excitedly beside me.

“Worth every penny.”

Dumontier should’ve learned by now—a Tinsley never gives up.