Chapter 109 Chapter 108
Logan POV
I hate these things.
That’s the first thought in my head the second I walk into the event hall.
The lights are too soft, the smiles are too polished, and every conversation feels like it’s happening three inches above the truth.
Champagne clinks.
Donors laugh like nothing in the world has ever cost them sleep.
Daniel Meyers is already in the corner, looking like he was born holding a clipboard and a superiority complex.
This is the part of hockey they don’t show you in highlight reels.
This is the part my dad always called necessary.
I adjust the collar of my suit and force myself to breathe.
It’s the night before the auction.
The mingling event.
The chance for bidders to “get to know” the people they’ll be spending obscene amounts of money on tomorrow, like we’re experiences instead of humans.
I spot a few teammates across the room, already being charming. Cole is near the drinks table, looking painfully comfortable in a suit, which is unfair.
He catches my eye and smirks like he knows I’d rather take a slapshot to the face than do this.
He mouths: Behave.
I flip him off subtly.
Then my gaze moves.
And everything stops.
Harper.
She walks in beside Lila, and the room might as well vanish.
She’s wearing black.
Not the kind of black that blends in.
The kind that commands.
Simple dress, clean lines, but it hugs her like it was designed with intent. Like it knows exactly what it’s doing.
She looks…
Jesus.
I’ve seen her in meetings. In jeans. In that sharp sorority-president armor she wears like she was born leading rooms.
This is different.
This is Harper Lane reminding the world she is not just respected.
She is wanted.
My chest tightens hard.
Lila leans in and says something in her ear, and Harper’s mouth curves slightly, like she’s trying not to smile.
And then Harper looks up.
Her eyes meet mine.
For one second, the noise fades.
Her gaze is steady.
But there’s something underneath it.
Nerves.
Heat.
A question she refuses to ask.
I take a step without meaning to.
Then stop.
Because this is not a hallway.
This is not her bedroom.
This is a room full of people with money and opinions and paddles waiting for tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
The thought hits like a punch.
Tomorrow someone is going to bid on her.
Tomorrow someone will look at her the way I’m looking at her right now and think they have a right to.
Something ugly sparks in my stomach.
Possessive.
Jealous.
Unreasonable.
Daniel’s voice echoes in my head from earlier.
Harper Lane looks very dateable.
I clench my jaw.
She doesn’t look dateable tonight.
She looks untouchable.
And I hate that other people are going to try anyway.
Harper turns slightly, letting Lila pull her deeper into the room.
I watch every step like an idiot.
Cole appears at my side.
He doesn’t say anything at first.
Just follows my stare.
Then, quietly:
“Wow.”
I don’t answer.
Cole whistles low. “She looks… dangerous.”
My voice comes out rough. “Don’t.”
Cole’s mouth twitches. “I didn’t even say anything.”
“You were about to.”
He glances at me. “You okay?”
No.
I’m not okay.
Because she looks like she could walk up to any man in this room and he would forget his own name.
And I have no claim.
No right.
No ground to stand on except the fact that I’ve kissed her until neither of us could think.
Cole nudges me. “Go talk to her.”
I exhale sharply. “Not here.”
“Why?” he asks. “Because of optics? Because of fear? Because you enjoy suffering?”
I shoot him a look.
Cole lifts his hands. “Just saying. Tomorrow she’s literally getting auctioned.”
“I know,” I mutter.
“And you’re just going to stand here?”
Before I can answer, Daniel Meyers swoops in like a shark smelling vulnerability.
“Logan,” he says brightly. “There he is. Perfect timing.”
I stiffen.
Daniel’s eyes flick toward Harper across the room, then back to me with satisfaction.
“She looks incredible, doesn’t she?” Daniel says.
My jaw tightens.
Daniel continues, voice pleased. “This is exactly what we wanted. People are already asking about her. Tomorrow is going to be competitive.”
My stomach turns.
“She’s not a racehorse,” I say flatly.
Daniel blinks. “Excuse me?”
“I’m serious,” I snap quietly. “Stop talking about her like she’s a commodity.”
Daniel’s smile tightens. “Logan, this is a charity auction.”
“She’s a person.”
“And she’s a very effective draw,” Daniel replies smoothly. “This is good for everyone.”
Cole mutters under his breath, “Oh boy.”
Daniel lowers his voice, leaning closer. “Look, you want to play in the pros? Get used to this. Your image matters. Her image matters. Chemistry sells.”
My hands curl at my sides.
“Tomorrow,” Daniel adds, almost casually, “she’s going to bring in a fortune.”
I stare at him.
And all I can think is—
Tomorrow someone else might win her.
Daniel pats my shoulder like we’re teammates and moves away, already scanning the room for the next photo op.
Cole watches him go, then looks back at me.
“You’re going to lose your mind,” he says.
“I’m fine,” I lie.
Cole snorts. “Sure.”
Across the room, Harper laughs softly at something Lila says, but her eyes flick toward me again.
Even from here, I can see it.
She’s aware of me.
Of the space.
Of the tension.
It’s like we’re standing on opposite sides of a wire stretched too tight.
I should go over there.
I should say something normal.
But nothing about this is normal.
Because tomorrow, the whole campus is going to treat her like a prize.
And tonight, all I can see is the truth I’ve been trying to outrun:
I don’t want her to be dateable to everyone.
I want her to be mine.
I’m still staring when a man approaches her.
Older. Alumni, maybe. Suit too expensive, smile too easy.
He says something that makes Harper laugh politely.
Not a real laugh.
A social laugh.
The kind she uses when she’s being Harper Lane, Sorority President.
He leans closer.
Too close.
My jaw tightens.
Another guy joins them.
Then another.
It’s subtle, but it’s happening fast.
People orbiting her like she’s the main attraction.
Like tomorrow isn’t enough.
They want to get a head start.
My stomach turns.
I hate it.
I hate how easily she fits into this room, even when I know she’s nervous.
I hate how everyone looks at her like she’s something to win.
A laugh erupts nearby.
Two of my teammates—freshmen idiots with too much ego—are standing a few feet away, watching the same scene.
One of them nudges the other.
“Damn,” he says, not quietly enough. “Harper Lane is… unreal tonight.”
His friend grins. “I always knew she was hiding that under the president act.”
Something cold crawls up my spine.
The first guy chuckles. “If I had the money tomorrow, I’d bid just to take her somewhere private.”
The other snorts. “Yeah? I’d bid to rock her whole world. Bet Shaw didn’t know what to do with her.”
My vision tunnels.
Cole stiffens beside me.
“Oh, for—” he mutters under his breath.
The guys keep going, oblivious.
“She’s got that look,” one adds. “Like she’d be trouble in the best way.”
The other laughs. “Trouble? I’d let her ruin my life.”
My jaw clenches so hard it aches.
Heat floods my chest.
Jealousy, raw and irrational.
Not because I own her.
Not because I have a right.
Because I know.
I know what her mouth tastes like.
I know the sound she makes when she forgets herself for half a second.
And hearing them talk about her like she’s a prize they want to unwrap—
It makes something violent flare behind my ribs.
I take a step forward.
Cole’s hand shoots out, grabbing my sleeve.
“Don’t,” he warns quietly.
My voice is low. “Did you hear that?”
“Yes,” Cole says. “And they’re idiots.”
“They’re talking about her.”
“I know.”
I stare at Harper again.
She’s still smiling politely, but her gaze flicks across the room—
And lands on me.
For a second, her expression changes.
She sees it.
The tension in my body.
The anger I’m barely holding back.
Her brows knit slightly, like she’s asking without words:
What’s wrong?
I can’t answer.
Because the answer is humiliating.
Because the answer is—
I don’t want anyone else thinking about her like that.
I don’t want tomorrow.
I don’t want the paddles.
I don’t want strangers imagining her in their hands.
I want to cross the room and pull her away from all of it.
Mine.
The thought is instinctive.
Possessive.
Terrifying.
Cole leans in. “Logan.”
My voice is rough. “I’m fine.”
Cole snorts. “Sure.”
Across the room, the alumni laughs again, touching Harper’s elbow lightly as he speaks.
Harper shifts back politely.
But the touch happens.
And something in me snaps tight.
I start moving before I can think.
Cole swears under his breath.
“Logan,” he calls, sharper now.
I don’t stop.
Because jealousy isn’t rational.
It doesn’t care about optics.
It doesn’t care about PR.
It only cares about the fact that Harper Lane is standing in a room full of men who want her—
And I’m the one who’s already had her in my arms and still doesn’t know how to let her be mine.
I weave through the crowd, ignoring Daniel’s voice somewhere behind me.
Harper looks up as I approach.
Her eyes widen slightly.
“Logan—”
“Can I talk to you?” I ask, voice tight.
The men around her pause, assessing.
Harper’s chin lifts.
“About what?”
“Just… come with me.”
Her gaze flicks over my face, reading the storm there.
Then she excuses herself with perfect politeness and steps away from them.
As soon as we’re out of earshot, she turns sharply.
“What is going on with you?”
I open my mouth.
No words come.
Because how do I say—
I can’t stand watching them look at you.
I can’t stand that tomorrow you’ll be someone’s prize.
I can’t stand that I want you so much it makes me furious.
Harper’s eyes narrow.
“Logan.”
I swallow hard.
And the wire between us tightens.
Tomorrow is coming.
And I’m not sure I can survive watching her be wanted by everyone…
when I’m the one who wants her most.