Chapter 121 Chapter 120
Logan POV
The applause when my name is called feels louder than it did for anyone else.
Maybe because I’m captain.
Maybe because people expect it to be a show.
Maybe because they’re still riding the high of me dropping five grand on Harper like I’d lost my mind.
The emcee grins. “All right, ladies and gentlemen—Captain Logan Shaw!”
Cheers. Whistles. Someone shouts, “Future pro!”
I step onto the stage and the lights hit me full in the face.
Smile. Shoulders back. Look easy.
This part I know how to do.
The bids start at a thousand.
They jump fast.
Girls our age, mostly. Sorority members. Students with flushed cheeks and competitive grins.
“Fifteen!”
“Two!”
“Twenty-five!”
I hear the laughter.
The flirting.
The “Oh my God imagine!”
And I don’t feel flattered.
I feel watched.
Measured.
Bought.
It’s ironic.
I’ve never had a problem being wanted before.
But tonight—
Tonight, it feels wrong.
Because I can see Harper at the side of the stage.
She’s trying not to look.
But she is.
And I can see it.
The tightness in her jaw.
The way her fingers twist around that clipboard like she might snap it in half.
The bids keep climbing.
“Three thousand!”
“Thirty-five!”
I keep my face neutral.
Because I deserve this.
I created this version of me.
The guy who’s easy.
The guy who doesn’t get attached.
The guy who always leaves first.
The emcee beams. “Four thousand!”
There’s a squeal from the front row.
I glance down just long enough to see who it is.
Blonde. Confident. Grinning like she’s winning a trophy.
My jaw tightens.
The hammer falls at forty-two hundred.
Applause erupts.
The girl—Ashley, I think—walks toward the stage, smiling wide.
I step down.
She beams up at me. “Guess I’m lucky.”
I give her a polite, practiced smile.
“You’ll get your date,” I say evenly.
Because that’s the deal.
But my eyes aren’t on her.
They’re on Harper.
Ashley notices.
Of course she does.
Her smile falters slightly.
Daniel Meyers appears instantly, clapping me on the back. “Fantastic! Incredible energy! This is exactly what we want!”
I nod.
Smile.
Play the part.
Then—
The emcee clears his throat again.
“And ladies and gentlemen—just when you thought we were done…”
A ripple moves through the room.
I turn slightly.
“What?” Cole mutters beside me.
The emcee grins. “We had a surprise late bid submitted for Captain Shaw.”
My stomach drops.
Daniel stiffens.
Ashley looks confused.
The emcee lifts a card.
“Apparently, someone decided not to sit this one out.”
A pause.
Then—
“Harper Lane.”
The room explodes.
Laughter. Gasps. Whistles.
My heart stops.
I look at her.
She’s frozen.
Lila is beside her, looking entirely too pleased with herself.
Harper’s eyes widen.
She shakes her head slightly like she didn’t expect this to be announced.
The emcee laughs. “It seems our sorority president decided to throw her hat in the ring.”
The crowd eats it up.
“Harper!” someone shouts.
I feel something shift inside me.
Not anger.
Not ego.
Something else.
Something hot and dangerous and almost… relieved.
Because she didn’t sit there.
She didn’t let it just happen.
She chose too.
Daniel leans toward me urgently. “This is gold,” he whispers. “Absolute gold.”
I barely hear him.
My eyes are still on Harper.
She looks like she might combust.
The emcee grins. “The bid has been matched by her table. Looks like teamwork makes the dream work!”
The room roars.
Ashley steps back awkwardly, clearly understanding she just got written out of a narrative.
Daniel smooths it over quickly, talking to her about honoring both bids, logistics, separate events.
But I’m already moving.
I walk toward Harper.
Not fast.
Not dramatic.
Just steady.
The crowd parts slightly.
Whispers follow.
Harper doesn’t move.
Her eyes lock onto mine as I stop in front of her.
“You did that?” I ask quietly.
Her chin lifts.
“I don’t like losing either,” she says.
There’s defiance in it.
But there’s something else too.
Vulnerability.
I step closer, lowering my voice.
“That wasn’t losing.”
Her eyes flicker.
“Then what was it?”
I swallow hard.
“Making sure you knew it wasn’t one-sided.”
Her breath catches.
The noise around us fades.
For a second it feels like we’re back in that hallway.
Except this time—
Everyone is watching.
She looks up at me, searching.
“Was that about me?” she asks softly. “Or about you not wanting to lose?”
The question hits.
Hard.
I don’t deflect.
I don’t joke.
“It was about not letting you feel second,” I say.
Her expression cracks.
Just a little.
“And now?” she whispers.
“Now I’m standing here,” I say. “In daylight.”
Her breath trembles.
“You don’t get to be territorial unless you’re serious,” she says quietly.
“I am serious.”
The words feel heavy.
Real.
Terrifying.
Her eyes soften—but she doesn’t fully believe yet.
I can see it.
The fear.
The years of confusion she talked about.
“Logan,” she says, voice unsteady, “this can’t just be adrenaline.”
“It’s not.”
“You can’t wake up tomorrow and decide this was stupid.”
“I won’t.”
She studies me like she’s trying to decide if I’m worth trusting.
I step closer until we’re barely inches apart.
“I see you,” I say quietly. “I’ve always seen you.”
She shakes her head faintly.
“You didn’t.”
“I didn’t know what to do with it,” I admit.
The honesty feels like ripping off armor.
“You weren’t easy. You weren’t… casual. You were dangerous.”
Her lips part slightly.
“Dangerous?”
“You mattered,” I say.
The word hangs between us.
The room is still buzzing.
Daniel is managing damage control.
Cole is pretending not to stare.
But right here—
It’s just us.
She swallows.
“I don’t want to fight for you forever,” she whispers.
“You won’t.”
“Prove it.”
I don’t kiss her.
Not here.
Not like that.
Instead, I reach for her hand.
And I don’t hide it.
I lace our fingers together.
In front of everyone.
Her breath catches sharply.
My phone vibrates in my pocket.
The timing is almost cruel.
I know before I look.
I pull it out.
Dad.
Of course.
Probably watching the livestream.
Probably already calculating headlines.
Harper sees the name on the screen.
Her fingers tighten around mine.
This is the moment.
Answer the call.
Step back into image.
Into optics.
Into “don’t screw it up.”
Or—
Stay.
I silence the phone.
And slide it back into my pocket.
Harper’s eyes widen slightly.
“You’re not answering?” she asks.
“Not right now.”
The noise of the room swells again.
But something inside me feels steady.
For the first time all night.
“I’m not done choosing,” I say quietly.
Her breath trembles.
And when she squeezes my hand back—
It doesn’t feel like panic.
It feels like the beginning of something neither of us can pretend isn’t real anymore.