Page 122 of Campus Crush
“I get it. I don’t want to follow my dad’s footsteps, but I’ve been thinking more about using my business degree for something else, maybe starting my own business or using that knowledge toward another career.”
“I think that’s a great idea.”
We finished our dinner talking about lighter things—the upcoming party at the hockey house, Sam’s latest datingdisaster, and Mason’s improved grades. It felt so normal, and at the same time felt like so much more than I’d ever thought I’d have—especially at twenty-one.
As I took our empty plates to the sink, Foster came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing a kiss to the side of my neck.
“Leave those,” he murmured against my skin. “I’ll do them later.”
I turned in his arms, looping my hands behind his neck. “Is that so?”
His eyes darkened as he looked down at me. “Mm-hmm. I think we should move on to celebrating.”
“And how exactly did you want to celebrate?” I asked, playing innocent despite the heat building between us.
Foster’s answering smile was wicked as he lifted me up and set me on the edge of the table.
“Well,” he said, stepping between my legs and tilting my chin up to meet his gaze, “I was thinking I could eat dessert.”
His kiss was sweet and hot and full of promise. As I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him closer, I knew with absolute certainty that this was exactly where I was meant to be.
I couldn’t wait to see what the future had in store for us.
EPILOGUE
The student center ballroom had been transformed with string lights, a makeshift stage, and rows of folding chairs filled with excited students—mostly female. A buzz of anticipation hung in the air as I squeezed into a seat near the front row, clutching a small purse filled with a wad of cash I’d brought to support Foster.
“I can’t believe the guys agreed to do this,” I muttered to Sam, who sat beside me practically vibrating with excitement.
“Are you kidding? This is going to be epic,” she replied, scanning the crowd. “Every sorority on campus is here. The hockey guys are going to make a fortune.”
I fidgeted nervously with the auction paddle I’d been given at the door.
“You have enough money, right?” Sam asked, eyeing my small purse.
I nodded. “I brought two hundred dollars. That should be enough, don’t you think?”
Foster and I had been dating for nearly seven months now, and while we’d agreed I should bid on him—becauseas captain he had to participate, but didn’t want to go on a date with anyone else—neither of us expected the bidding to go too high. After all, everyone knew we were together.
Sam’s expression turned doubtful. “Mmm, maybe.”
My stomach dropped. “Everyone knows we’re a couple. Would another girl really bid on him?”
“Hopefully not, but some girls like chasing what they can’t have,” Sam said with an eye roll.
Before I could respond, the lights dimmed and music started pumping through the speakers. Ava Dumontier, Drew’s twin sister, walked out on stage with a beaming smile. She seemed completely in her element.
“Welcome, everyone, to the first annual Clark Fork University Hockey Bachelor Auction,” she announced, her voice booming through the microphone. “I’m Ava Dumontier, your emcee for the evening. All proceeds tonight go directly to supporting our hockey team’s travel and equipment costs. Remember, you’re bidding on a date with these fine gentlemen, nothing more. And now, for the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Let the bachelor bidding begin!
“Let’s get this show on the road with bachelor number one—the man, the myth, the legend—Liam ‘the Hot Irishman’ Farrell!”
Liam strutted onto the stage to the tune of “I’m Too Sexy,” wearing jeans and a tight black T-shirt that showcased his athletic build. He grinned and flexed dramatically, causing several girls in the front row to squeal.
Ava read from a card. “Liam is a sophomore defenseman from Montana who enjoys long walks to the refrigerator and has been known to quote poetry when drunk. Ladies, the starting bid is twenty dollars. Who wants to try their luck with the Hot Irishman?”
The bidding for Liam started immediately, withpaddles shooting up across the room. It quickly escalated, finally ending at $175 when a pretty blonde in the back won him. Liam winked at her as he left the stage.
Several more hockey players were auctioned off, each introduction more ridiculous than the last. The crowd was getting rowdier, and the bids were climbing higher than I’d anticipated. My palms began to sweat as I realized my $200 might not be enough after all.
