Chapter 32 Chapter 31
Harper POV
The morning tastes like burnt coffee and regret.
I’ve been awake since five, pacing the sorority kitchen, replaying everything in a loop — the kiss, his texts, the fact that I still haven’t answered him.
By the time the vendor call starts at nine, I’ve gone through three cups of coffee and the kind of pep talk that should’ve earned me a motivational speaking license.
I’m fine.
I’m composed.
I’m Harper Lane — president, planner, professional.
I repeat it until I almost believe it.
Lila sits beside me at the long dining table, laptop open, headset on, watching me like she expects me to combust mid-call.
The screen flickers to life — the event sponsor, Daniel Myers, a polished PR guy from one of the biggest sports brands in the state. Perfect teeth. Smile that could sell a thousand jerseys.
“Morning, ladies,” he says. “Hope I’m not catching you too early.”
“Not at all,” I say, adjusting my headset. “We’re excited to finalize the details for the charity gala. The vendor list is ready, catering confirmed, and Alpha Chi’s volunteers are prepped for setup.”
“Excellent,” Daniel says. “You’ve been an absolute star, Harper. I spoke with Coach Ryland from the Titans this morning — he’s thrilled about the partnership.”
“Partnership?” I blink. “I thought the team was just sponsoring—”
“Oh, right.” He chuckles lightly, like he’s reminding me of something I should already know. “The full auction concept came through their athletic board last week. You got the memo, right?”
My stomach dips. “What memo?”
He pauses, the kind of pause that says I should definitely know what memo he’s talking about. “Oh—well, maybe it got lost in the shuffle. The gala’s centerpiece changed slightly.”
Lila’s eyes flick toward me. Slightly, my ass.
Daniel continues, smooth as silk. “Instead of a traditional silent auction, the board approved a live date auction featuring members of the Titans hockey team and your Alpha Chi chapter. The proceeds go to the Children’s Cancer Fund. Great press. Great turnout expected.”
I freeze. “A what?”
“A date auction,” he repeats cheerfully. “One night out with the team’s top players and your top house representatives. A fun, harmless way to raise triple the donations. The media loves these events.”
Lila’s mouth drops open beside me. “You’re kidding.”
“No, it’s genius branding!” Daniel says, oblivious. “Coach Ryland already sent over his roster suggestions. Your sorority president—you, Harper—and the team captain, Logan Shaw, will close the night’s auction.”
The world tilts. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Your pairing,” he says like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Titans’ captain and Alpha Chi’s president—front-page photo, guaranteed publicity. You’ll be the highlight of the campaign. I’ve already drafted the press release.”
The air in the room feels thin. My pulse spikes so hard it hurts.
“Mr. Myers,” I manage, “there must be some mistake. I was never informed of this change.”
“Oh?” His smile falters for a fraction of a second. “Well, Coach said he mentioned it to Shaw. Maybe he forgot to pass it along.”
Of course he did.
Of course Logan knew.
And of course he didn’t tell me.
“Harper?” Daniel’s voice filters back through the static. “You still there?”
“Yes,” I say tightly. “We’ll… we’ll make it work.”
“Fantastic,” he beams. “I’ll send the updated materials this afternoon. Great work as always, Ms. Lane.”
The call ends with a cheery ping.
Lila rips off her headset. “You’ve got to be kidding me. A date auction? With him?”
I sink back into my chair, numb. “Apparently, I’m the grand finale.”
“Do you think he knew?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “And he didn’t say a damn word.”
Lila exhales, low and sharp. “Harper, that’s… messed up.”
“Tell me about it.”
I drag both hands over my face. My heartbeat’s a wild, uneven rhythm.
Last night he kissed me like he meant it. This morning, I find out he’s known for days that the event I’m breaking my back to organize is basically a glorified spectacle pairing me with him.
Humiliation bubbles hot in my throat. “He probably thought it was funny. Or maybe he wanted to see how far I’d go before I found out.”
“Don’t do that,” Lila says softly.
“What?”
“Don’t assume the worst.”
“It’s easier.”
“Yeah, but it’s not you.”
I drop my hands and stare at the laptop screen, the paused image of Daniel Myers still smiling on the Zoom thumbnail. “Maybe it is now.”
Lila sighs. “You need to talk to him.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Harper.”
“No.” My voice sharpens. “I don’t owe him anything. He’s had plenty of chances to talk. To show up. To be honest. I’m not giving him another one.”
She studies me for a second, quiet. Then she nods. “Fine. But for what it’s worth, you don’t deserve to be blindsided like that.”
“Thanks.”
She hesitates at the doorway. “You know the girls are going to freak when they hear. Should I, uh, maybe tell them not to start a war?”
“Probably for the best.”
When she’s gone, I sit there staring at the empty coffee cup. The silence feels heavier than it should.
I open my laptop again, scroll through my email inbox. And there it is — buried under dozens of vendor confirmations.
A forwarded thread from the athletics department, dated two days ago.
Subject line: Gala Fundraiser — Team Pairing Draft.
I click it.
Halfway down the list, I find my name.
Harper Lane — Alpha Chi
Logan Shaw — Titans Captain.
My throat tightens.
He knew.
He absolutely knew.
And he didn’t warn me, didn’t even think I deserved to find out before the sponsor announced it live.
Anger flares hot enough to make me shake.
I grab my phone before I can think, scroll to his messages. The unread text still glows at the bottom.
Logan:
I meant what I said.
I don’t want to stop.
I stare at it for a long time, the irony cutting deep.
He doesn’t want to stop — but apparently, he doesn’t want to start telling me the truth, either.
I type a message before I can stop myself.
Harper:
Did you know about the auction?
I don’t even hit send.
My finger hovers over the button, trembling.
If I send it, he’ll know he got to me.
If I don’t, he’ll think I don’t care.
I delete the text, toss my phone onto the desk, and stand up too fast.
The room sways.
I grab my coat and head for the door, ignoring the worried looks from the girls downstairs. I need air.
Fresh air.
Distance from him. From all of it.
But as I step outside, the morning cold hits sharp and alive—and I realize the one person I’m furious with isn’t just Logan.
It’s myself.
Because even now, even after everything, part of me still wants him to care.