Chapter 101 Chapter 100
Logan POV
The locker room is loud in the way it always is after practice.
Steam, laughter, the clatter of gear being thrown into stalls. Someone is arguing about music. Someone else is already talking about food like they haven’t eaten in ten years.
Normal.
I should feel normal.
Practice was good. Coach noticed. My legs feel strong. My head felt clear for the first time in weeks.
I should be riding that.
Instead, all I can think about is Harper’s face in the stands.
The way she said she was fine.
The way she wasn’t.
I’m halfway down the hallway toward the locker room when I hear Daniel Meyers before I see him.
His voice carries. Crisp. Confident. Like every sentence is a press release.
“—I’m telling you,” he’s saying to someone, “those shots are gold. Harper Lane looks very dateable.”
I stop.
Not intentionally.
My body just… halts.
Daniel continues, oblivious.
“That’s what sells,” he says. “People want to bid on chemistry. She’s not just the sorority president. She’s approachable. Desirable. It’ll bring in a lot of bids.”
My stomach twists.
Dateable.
Desirable.
Like she’s a listing.
Like she’s an item.
The guy he’s talking to chuckles. “Yeah, she’s going to go for a fortune.”
Daniel laughs. “Exactly. That’s the point. The donors love a pretty story. Golden Boy hockey star, campus sweetheart… it’s perfect.”
Something hot sparks low in my chest.
Campus sweetheart.
Harper isn’t anyone’s sweetheart.
She’s sharp. Complicated. Real.
And suddenly I can’t breathe past one thought:
Someone is going to win her.
Not in the PR way.
Not in the awkward, supervised, staged way.
In the real way.
A guy with money is going to raise his hand and buy a night with Harper Lane.
A real date.
A clean slate.
No history.
No baggage.
No fear.
The jealousy hits so fast it’s almost physical.
I step forward before I can stop myself.
“Daniel.”
His head snaps up, smile already forming.
“Logan! Great practice today—”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
His smile falters slightly. “Excuse me?”
“You’re standing here talking about Harper like she’s—” I gesture sharply, searching for the word. “Like she’s merchandise.”
Daniel blinks, then laughs lightly, like I’m being dramatic.
“It’s an auction,” he says. “That is literally what it is.”
“That doesn’t mean you get to talk about her like that.”
His eyes narrow a fraction. “Logan, relax. This is good for everyone. Harper looks great, the chemistry reads well, bids go up—”
“I don’t care about bids.”
Daniel pauses.
Then his gaze sharpens with something almost amused.
“Oh.”
The word is quiet.
Knowing.
I feel my jaw tighten.
Daniel’s mouth curves slightly. “That’s what this is.”
“What?”
He tilts his head. “You care.”
I glare at him. “This isn’t about me.”
“It’s absolutely about you,” he says, lowering his voice. “You’re the one who can’t keep his head straight.”
I step closer. “Watch your mouth.”
Daniel doesn’t flinch.
“This is the event,” he says calmly. “Harper will get bids. That’s the point. You think people are paying thousands of dollars to sit across from someone they don’t want to take out?”
The words slam into me.
My hands curl into fists at my sides.
I picture it—
Harper in a dress.
Smiling politely.
Sitting across from some guy with clean confidence and none of my damage.
A guy who doesn’t freeze when his phone rings.
A guy who doesn’t bring a chaperone.
A guy who doesn’t make her feel like she’s hard to want.
My chest aches.
Daniel keeps talking, oblivious to the war he just lit.
“It’s great optics,” he says. “And frankly, it helps her too. She’s the kind of girl donors love. Smart, pretty, polished. Very—”
“Stop,” I snap.
He pauses again.
Then, carefully: “Logan… you do understand she’s going to be auctioned, right? Like everyone else.”
I stare at him.
My throat is tight.
“She’s not a prize,” I say hoarsely.
Daniel sighs like I’m the difficult one.
“No one said she was. But she is… desirable. People will want her.”
I swallow.
The truth is, they already do.
The only difference is now it’ll be public.
Now it’ll be allowed.
Now I’ll have to watch someone else claim what I’ve been too afraid to reach for properly.
Daniel’s voice softens into something almost patronizing.
“If you want to avoid that feeling,” he says, “maybe you should figure out what you actually want before someone else does.”
Then he pats my shoulder like this is just business and walks away down the hall.
I stand there, frozen.
My pulse is loud in my ears.
Cole appears a moment later, towel slung over his shoulder.
He takes one look at my face.
“Oh boy,” he mutters. “What now?”
I don’t answer.
Because the answer is too ugly.
Too honest.
Too simple.
I don’t want someone else to take Harper out.
Not because I own her.
Not because I get to decide.
But because the thought of her laughing with someone else—
Of her being chosen easily—
Makes something in me break open.
Cole’s voice cuts in. “Logan.”
I finally look at him.
He raises an eyebrow. “You gonna tell me why you look like you want to commit a felony?”
I swallow hard.
“The auction,” I say.
Cole blinks. “What about it?”
I stare down the hallway Daniel disappeared through.
“…Someone’s going to bid on her.”
Cole’s expression stills.
Then: “Ah.”
I exhale shakily.
“And it won’t be fake,” I add, quieter. “It’ll be real.”
Cole watches me for a long moment.
Then he says, very softly:
“Then stop wasting time pretending you don’t want her.”
My chest tightens.
Because that’s the problem, isn’t it?
I do want her.
And five days from now, the whole campus might want her too.