Page 63 of Best Friends for Never

She reads over the name and pauses, her eyes flicking toward me.

Fuck. I’m next.

She steps up to the microphone again, that same fake smile from before plastered across her lips.

“Next up, we have the man I’m sure most of you have been waiting for. Some of you may know him as Hollywood’s heartthrob, but to many of us, he’s still that same kid who had training wheels on his bike until he was twelve.”

“And a half! He was twelve and a half!” Axel hollers from across the room.

I glower at him, and he just shoots me a grin. His wife swats at him, shaking her head, and I don’t even know her, but I like her already.

“Sorry. Twelve and ahalf.” Parker tucks her lips together to hide her grin. “Please help me in welcoming to the stage ... Noel Carter!”

The room erupts in cheers, and I push off the high-top table I was leaning on and make my way to the stage. Several women in the crowd talk behind their hands, probably making their plans to bid. If I didn’t want this theater to succeed for Parker’s sake, I would immediately run in the opposite direction and book a plane ticket back to LA.

But I can’t run. Not just because of the theater, but because there is no way I’m walking away after what just happened in that stairwell. I have to know if it was just a onetime thing or if it could be more.

The spotlight is blinding as I step onto the stage and wave to the crowd. I swear they cheer louder because of it.

I ignore it. I have my attention set on something else—Parker.

I step up to her, pressing a kiss to her cheek, not missing the way her breath hitches.

“You’re going to pay for that later.”

I don’t know if it’s a promise or a threat, but it elicits the tiniest of squeaks from her, and I’m satisfied either way.

Parker clears her throat. “All right. Let’s get this started. We’ll start the bids off at—”

“One hundred!” a woman yells from the crowd. I hold my hand to my eyes to see who it is, but I can’t make her out.

“One fifty!” another woman adds.

“One seventy-five!”

It keeps going until it hits $750, Parker’s eyes getting wider and wider with every bid.

It’s our biggest bid all night, but I think they can do better.

I slide up next to Parker, sticking my head in front of the microphone. “Come on, now. We can do better than that, right? Think of how much joy this theater is going to bring your kids.”

“Think of how much joy he can bring me for one night,” someone in front says.

“Abigail!”

I recognize that voice. It’s my tenth-grade teacher, which means that her daughter, who was a year younger than us in school, just said that.

She ducks her head down, but not before I throw her a wink.

What? It’s for a good cause.

“One thousand dollars!” A new voice booms through the small space, and every hair on my neck stands up. Leonard Figgins elbows his way through the crowd. “I bid one thousand dollars.”

I don’t know why he repeats this, but it sends a hushed murmur through the crowd, and Leonard simply smirks.

Then it’s crickets.

Nobody moves. Nobody says anything. And I’m pretty sure it means I’m going on a date with Leonard Figgins, where he will no doubt grill me on any- and everything, and I’ll walk out a headline.

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