Well, it didn’t matter. She was going to enjoy the view just the same. Riley emerged from amongst the throng of fans, guided by the theater teacher Ron Gill, and sat next to the stage, just as the co-captains of the football team made their way up to the microphone. Before the lights dimmed, she got a good look at Riley. Again, thanks to Wikipedia, she knew he was around thirty, and in spite of the last few years of hard living (she knew about two stints in rehab for heroin addiction), he looked incredible. He was cut and he had a strong, chiseled jaw. His hair was a little mussed up, just adding to the rock star I-don’t-give-a-shit look, and it was longer than he’d ever worn it before. It was kinda sexy. She wasn’t sure, but she thought he was wearing his dog tag necklace and he had a couple of big rings on his fingers. But one of the things she liked the most about Riley, his sleeves of tattoos, was mostly on display, thanks to the short sleeves. God…he was fucking gorgeous.
And Erin decided she’d better look away before she started drooling.
She looked down at her hands, trying to compose herself, because she felt herself growing nervous. She’d gotten herself totally worked up, and deep down she knew someone like Riley Schultz wouldn’t give her the time of day anyway. So she had to stop torturing herself. She focused on an inane conversation between Brenda and Rainy…something about how to apply smoky eye shadow. Once she felt like she had control of herself again, she focused on the PowerPoint and forced herself to keep her eyes away from Riley Schultz. It was the only way she could survive.
When the co-captains finished their sweet presentation that had put the cheerleaders up on some impossible pedestal, they introduced the former frontman of Spawn as the evening’s emcee. And that’s when he stood up and walked the few steps up to the platform to the loud roar of applause that greeted him. Erin knew the praise was due to two things—one was there were some true fans in the crowd, probably mostly teenagers; most of the parents who’d decided to attend had no clue who Riley was; but, second, she knew it was because—whether those people knew his music or not—they knew he was a local boy who’d gone on to become famous and had returned home.
The good news? She could look at him all she wanted now, and no one would ever know better. No one would ever know how ravenous her gaze really was, including the young ladies who surrounded her.
So what did Riley actually say? Well, she missed that. She heard his voice, all right…smooth baritone, a little raspy, very sexy, but the actual words? Missed ‘em all. It didn’t matter, though. She knew most of the words already, considering she and the cheerleaders had written them all earlier that week. She did catch Riley doing some ad lib, though…he was telling some jokes and warming up the crowd. Oh, yeah…no denying Riley was the kind of person meant for the stage. He had charisma and had won the entire group over in a matter of minutes.
He began reading the card for Michaela as the young lady in a wispy red dress walked down the bleachers to take her place onstage. God, what a stupid place for the auction. Erin had questioned why they were using the gym and not the auditorium, the perfect place for something like this. Ron Gill had explained during the last faculty meeting that the stage was already set for the “epic play” the following weekend. His students had worked hard on the set, had finally completed all but the final touches, and he didn’t want to ask them to take it down. “Besides,” he’d said, “I’m training my set kids on how to work with a traveling theater group. They need practice on setting up the temporary stage, the one we’ll be using for the auction. Best yet, cheerleaders work in the gym. What better place to have the auction?”
Well, it was bullshit, but she wasn’t their permanent coach and wasn’t willing to fight for it. The girls didn’t seem to mind.
Michaela was smiling, her teeth gleaming, her long black hair shining under the stage lights while she was under the scrutiny of the crowd. Still reading off the card, Riley said, “Michaela’s favorite things are soft, cute puppies, macaroni and cheese, and slumber parties with her best friends. Turn offs include bad breath, smoking, and bushy eyebrows.” Riley set the card on the podium in front of him and pulled the microphone off the stand. Erin felt her pulse pick up a little, just because she’d seen him do that move a dozen times in videos and at the two Spawn concerts she’d attended back in the day. Apparently, her subconscious wanted Riley to perform.
Instead, he walked close to Michaela and then said into the mike, “Anything else you’d like to add, Miss Michaela?”
The girl giggled and—even though Erin couldn’t quite tell, thanks to the stage lights—she was pretty sure Michaela blushed, her cheeks reflecting the red of her dress. Apparently, Riley close up was potent. Could Erin survive her own trip up there?
Michaela barely leaned toward the microphone, as though Riley might gobble her up if she got too close. But she didn’t look like she’d mind either. She said, “No…I think you got it.” Michaela was one of the shyest cheerleaders, if there was such a thing. The girl was fine performing cheers, dancing in front of large crowds, performing gymnastic feats under the gaze of hundreds of people, but Erin already knew you didn’t ask the girl to talk in front of people, even if it was a small class of twenty-five. So Riley had gotten out of her probably the only words the young lady would say up there on the platform.
No problem, though, because Riley was quite comfortable in the limelight. He said, “Let the bidding begin, folks. Now remember. You’re bidding for a date with this young woman. The date will be held in this very same place tomorrow evening.” He stepped over to the podium, grabbing another note card, glancing down at it for a moment. “You’ll be served a three-course Italian meal followed by an hour of dancing, and you’ll have the company of the beautiful young lady you bid on. Not only will a good time be had by all, but”—in a smooth motion, he placed the note card back on the podium, but he didn’t miss a beat—“you’re giving to a good cause. This fundraiser will allow this fine group of cheerleaders the chance to attend their annual summer camp, where they learn new things, grow in their camaraderie, and prepare for another year of keeping the student body pumped about sports…and we all know how important that is.” Riley looked again at Michaela. “Miss Michaela, you’re a senior, are you not?”
The girl blushed again and giggled, nodding her head.
“Well, are you still going to attend camp?”
She looked up at the ceiling and giggled again. Riley placed the microphone in front of her mouth. Michaela finally said, “Well, no, but this will help the girl who replaces me.”
“What a generous gesture,” Riley said, and Erin wasn’t sure if anyone else picked up on it, but she was pretty certain his words had been sarcastic as hell. Before she could contemplate it any further, he said, “The bidding will begin at twenty-five dollars, but, come on, folks. This lovely young lady’s company is definitely worth a little more than that.”
Too bad, Erin thought, he didn’t really mean it. She just hoped the rest of the pumped-up crowd couldn’t pick up on it.
Chapter Four
TRULY, THIS FUCKING auction had to be one of the stupidest things Riley had ever let himself get roped into doing. But he decided to have fun with it. He’d already gotten away with a couple of snarky comments, so he’d see just how much he could say before he either got disturbed looks from the girls he was auctioning or got a loud hiss or boo from the crowd. That would be his indication that he’d gone too far. Hell, he decided he’d even stop if one of the girls looked confused by something he’d say.
But so far…nothing. Everyone was having a genuinely good time. Everyone, that was, except for him. He felt like the soul was being sucked out of him. And time had been dragging.
Finally, though, he was auctioning off girl number twelve. The event had gone on forever. Some girls—apparently prime cuts of meat—actually “sold” for two hundred dollars. He had to admit they were the cuter ones, not that girls that young caught his eye anymore. Well, they did, but it made him feel like a dirty old man
. Today, he could admit that they were cute without lusting after them. He’d been twenty-one the last time he’d been with a minor, and the threat of a lawsuit had scared the shit out of him. Fortunately, he’d had a good lawyer and enough money that he could settle out of court before the law got involved and pressed the issue.
He was okay with that. Young girls often expected way too much—love, for example, something Riley wasn’t able to give for reasons far too many to divulge to the young lasses. At least most women over twenty-five understood that if they chose to sleep with a rock star, said rock star knew they were groupie whores and wouldn’t even look at them the morning after if they’d even made it to that point.
“All right. We have a bid of seventy-five dollars for Miss Beth. Can I get one-hundred?”
The lights would have made it hard to see the hands in the audience, but the theater guy had been smart enough to leave all the lights on, so Riley didn’t have to struggle to see the guys sticking their hands in the air. On the downside, though, it made it hard for him to keep his eyes off the blonde in the bleachers. He couldn’t even pretend to casually glance over, because the people placing the bids were part of the audience seated in the fold-up chairs in front of the stage. The only time he could look over was when a new girl came up to be auctioned.
“Aw. Isn’t that just too cute? Miss Beth, is that your parents bidding one-hundred dollars for you?” Riley felt like he might puke.
The redhead giggled. “Yeah. They love and support me.”
“Isn’t that sweet, folks? Beth’s parents love and support her. So which one of you wants to love and support her more?”
Oh, fuck. It had finally happened. That joke hit like a lead balloon. What was worse was Riley had thought this one to be closer to innocent than most of his other wisecracks. But no one was laughing. No one was even smiling, and little Miss Beth’s bottom lip was beginning to curl up in a pout. “Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, but I merely meant that in the most generous sense. Would anyone like to donate a higher amount to support the cause?”
A rich kid’s hand finally flew up in the air and the good time recommenced. Riley might have damaged his chances with the cheer coach…but he had one more card up his sleeve.
* * *
Erin felt herself growing jittery, knowing she was going to be the next item of scrutiny. She kept telling herself it was all for a good cause. And all of the girls had made at least one-hundred dollars, so she hoped she could make that much as well. She’d lost count, but she knew they’d already made over fifteen-hundred. Any amount she pulled in would be gravy.
But there was another reason she felt anxious as hell. She was going to be standing next to one of her old rock crushes. She was afraid she’d come off as a giggly teenager, not unlike the dozen girls he’d already dealt with.
No. Must. Remain. Poised.
She was inhaling slow, deep breaths in an attempt to keep her cool. All the people in the audience who already knew her would think any residual nerves were simply due to the fact that she wasn’t comfortable with being thrown on a stage. No one ever had to know the truth.
And the rock star? Well…she’d likely never see him again, so why did she give such a shit?
After Beth was escorted off the stage, Erin took one last gulp of air. She didn’t want to stand until she was called up, but she smoothed out the fabric of her dress that was resting on her thighs. When she looked back up to the stage, she saw Riley walking toward the edge. He crooked his finger at the co-captains and then walked off the stage. Erin wasn’t quite sure what to think of that. Either he’d had enough, having bombed his last attempt at a joke, or he didn’t know he had one more person to auction off and was bailing before being accosted by fans again.
Erin tried not to feel hurt. It wasn’t personal. So much for standing next to one of her rock star crushes, though. So when John Corbin, a senior who’d never been in any of her classes, called her name (“Last but not least, Miss Lancaster!”), she stood up and walked toward the stage. Her smile wasn’t real, because part of her felt like she was in shock, but at least the nerves had dissipated.
So she kept the frozen smile on her face and walked off the bleachers toward the stage. Part of her struggled with feeling embarrassed. Ah…not good enough to be announced by the famous guy. Personal or not, she comforted herself with the idea that the guy was a dick. That’s what a lot of media had said about Riley Schultz anyway…that he was arrogant, conceited, and a bit of a control freak. She let her mind wander through its archives. She remembered that was at the heart of the Spawn breakup. Sure, part of it was the drugs. But she remembered there being some major conflict between Riley and his best friend from high school, J. C. Gibson, the lead guitarist. They both battled for ultimate artistic control of the band. J. C. wanted to go one way, Riley the other, and they wound up disbanding. They disagreed about the direction the band should go in. If Erin recalled correctly, Riley wanted to continue to cross over, drawing larger crowds, while still maintaining what he’d called “musical integrity.” J. C. had called Riley a sellout and said he refused to pander to anyone. Erin thought they were both being stubborn, because the bottom line was they both loved the music. Surely, they could’ve found some common ground. Maybe there was more to the story than she knew—hell, maybe it was just the drugs. Today, J. C. had already recovered and was in a new band that was already working on a second CD but Riley was only now getting back on his feet.
Maybe that’s what he deserved for being such a dick.
All right, her mental rant was over now and she finally made it up to the podium beside the two football players. The other player had been in her Sophomore Honors English class, and he held out his arm as if displaying merchandise. “Ms. Lancaster,” he said, grinning.
She smiled, thinking she was glad she had these young men auctioning her off. She wouldn’t have liked having a sarcastic asshole pimping her out anyway. John, the more vocal of the duo, spoke into the microphone. “Okay, I’m afraid we’re not the showmen Riley Schultz was, but we’ll take one for the team.” At the mention of team, Erin heard and then saw a large chunk of football players in the audience practically roaring their support. “All right, can I get a bid of twenty-five dollars for Winchester High’s English maven Erin Lancaster?”
Erin started laughing, afraid she was becoming hysterical, giggling just like the cheerleaders had moments earlier. She knew it was because everything was heightened, what with being on display and all, but it seemed like forever before anyone made a bid. Shit. That would be the ultimate humiliation. Not even a twenty-five dollar bid. But finally Ron Gill’s hand went in the air. And she wasn’t sure what to think about that. Ron was nice enough but they’d butted heads quite a few times during faculty meetings. They had different ideas. They were supposed to agree on a Shakespeare play every year. Ron was supposed to have his students study it in Drama II and she had to dissect it with her seniors in Honors English, but it was almost as if Ron just wanted to pick a fight. If she said Julius Caesar, he’d insist upon Macbeth. If one of the history teachers jumped in and asked about Henry V, he’d dig in his heels and demand Othello. If she wanted to focus on a comedy that year, he’d demand drama. He was infuriating.
And then it hit her. He was like a boy in middle school, picking fights because…he liked her. Oh, God. Why hadn’t she ever seen it before? And…he was a nice enough guy. But he really wasn’t her type.
And, again, just whom did she think she was kidding? The last guy she’d fallen for, a bad boy at that, had crushed her so badly she’d sworn off men forever. So…let him bid. She’d enjoy dinner with him and then go home. She just hoped she could earn at least a little more than twenty-five bucks.
“Can we get fifty?” This question was followed again by a few moments’ silence until she heard another voice booming in the back.
“Five-hundred.”
Erin was certain she hadn’t heard correctly. Her eyes scanned the crowd, unable to f
ind the face that owned the voice.
John said into the microphone, “Was that five-hundred?”
She saw someone step forward. “Five-hundred.”
Fuck. It was Riley Schultz. What the hell? She felt all her composure melt away. What was that she’d been thinking about an arrogant dick earlier? She looked down at him as he got closer to the stage and tried to smile, but instead she knew her mouth was just hanging open, in shock.
“Whoa, dude,” John said into the microphone. He looked back out at the crowd. “Um…can I get five-fifty?”
And the rest was a blur. Riley Schultz won the bid, spending more money than anyone else had, and she had no idea what to say or do. But at least she’d finally managed to smile.
Chapter Five
SO IT HAD been an asshole move. Riley was good at that kind of shit. But he knew it would get that gorgeous blonde’s attention. Erin Lancaster…that’s what they’d said her name was. He’d decided the only way to really catch her eye would be to drop a wad of cash on her, more than any of her little cheerleader girls had pulled in. If it wouldn’t have seemed decadent, he would’ve bid a thousand on her. As it was, it had worked.
He could see the expression on her face when she first walked up on the stage. That was a good sign. In a million years, he never would have guessed a high school English teacher would show the slightest interest in a guy like him, but he saw something there. She looked almost disappointed that he wasn’t the one auctioning her off.
And that’s when he knew he had a good plan.
Sure as shit, when he bid the five-hundred, her face lit up like a Christmas tree. He could tell she was trying to control herself, but apparently the Riley charm had no limits. High school English teachers, religious grandmothers, and teenage girls—they all loved him. She was shocked until she saw it was him and then her jaw literally fucking dropped. Classic.
He couldn’t help it. The cocky rock star expression he’d seen himself wearing in dozens of magazines slid over his face as he continued walking closer. And, of course, no one overbid him. He’d made sure of that. And even if they had, he would’ve kept bidding till he’d won. Until he’d seen her expression and knew she was interested, he might’ve allowed himself to be overbid, but not now.
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