23. Luke

Chapter 23

Luke

B ackstage, every man is a ball of nerves. It didn’t matter how many times we’d skated out onto the ice, surrounded by loving fans. Didn’t matter that we were used to being in the public eye, at least to some degree. When faced by a crowd of women, however, hooting and hollering at us like we were a piece of meat, the male ego tends to take a backseat to anxiety.

The noise backstage was a low rumble, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the sounds of excited women. The thin red curtain that separated us from them was nothing more than a wisp of protection, and if they figured out they could just come backstage, we were screwed.

The hall door opens and there stands Keke. Seb greets her before I can, but she waves me over. I hadn’t expected her to confront me about putting myself on the list, but she was direct about things, and I love that about her. If she wants to yell at me now before the auction starts, so be it. I can take it.

She loops her arm around mine and leads me into the hall before closing the door. As soon as it’s just the two of us, her face falls. She becomes extremely upset, and guilt chokes me.

“Luke, I’m?—”

“Look, I know you’re mad I put myself on the list. I get it, and I’m sorry. I didn’t do it to upset you or make our relationship look bad. I did it because Lucas goaded me into it. I know that’s a weak and shitty reason, and I’m sorry. Obviously, I’m not going to do anything sexual with my winner. I’ll do a photo-op date for the cause, and that’s it. No funny business. You don’t have to worry about it, okay? This won’t make our relationship look bad. I promise you.”

She heaves a breath, her shoulders sagging. “That’s not what I’m upset about.”

“But you were fine before you found out I was doing this.”

“I was, but?—”

I pull her in for a hug. “It’s okay to get jealous. But I swear, nothing is going to happen. I’m with you.”

Keke goes limp, then tenses in my arms before pushing me away. When I let her go, she staggers back from me, appearing even more upset. In fact, she seems angry with me. “Do whatever you want, Luke. You always do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she storms off.

I scratch my head, trying to figure out where I went wrong. She was upset, so I held her and reassured her yet somehow, I had fucked that up. No matter how many times I go over the past two minutes in my head, I cannot figure out what I did wrong. Maybe I’m not the only one who’s nervous tonight.

Keke will tell me in due time. Meanwhile, I need to return to my spot backstage. I can barely hear myself think over the coil of nerves pinballing inside me, but my focus is set on one thing—Happy Harbor. The shelter has been my refuge since I joined the Atlanta Fire. All of the new players had been told to pick a pet charity. I took that literally.

I didn’t quite realize how Coach had meant it at the time, but I have no regrets over the misunderstanding. I’ve found peace among the fur and the wagging tails. Tonight, every dollar raised is a lifeline for those animals and the volunteers who pour their hearts and souls into that place.

I jumped into this bachelor auction thinking it would be a smart move for my image, a chance to show the good I could do. I can lie to myself all I want, but the reality is that I’d done it to beat Lucas. Now, the possibility that I’ve jeopardized what Keke and I have built, however fragile, makes my stomach twist.

That has to be why she’s so angry. That part about how I always do what I want was a direct hit. She’s pissed I signed up to be a bachelor for the auction. When we decided to fake date, she had warned me about doing anything that would make her look foolish or humiliate her, so I can understand why she’d be upset about me doing this.

I’m not exactly a bachelor anymore. At least, not in my heart.

Keke is it for me. If I thought proposing to her wouldn’t completely freak her out, I would have done it by now. I want to start my life with her—officially—and that will take time. Keke is not the kind of woman to leap into a marriage, and I know I need to give her enough time to get there mentally. But I’m ready for it and I hope she will be soon.

The curtain flips back, and a bedraggled Alek stumbles in from the stage. His hair is a mess, his breast pocket torn, dangling by a thread from his tuxedo jacket.

“They… they’re animals.”

A chill runs through me. What the hell happened out there? A few of us gawk at him but Lucas just chuckles under his breath. “You clearly don’t know how to handle women.”

Alek glares at the rookie. “Then you go out there and show us how it is done.”

“Don’t worry. I will.” He smirks at me.

“This isn’t to stroke your ego, Lucas,” I say firmly. “This is about the animals, the shelter. Remember that.”

“The more money I earn, the more kibble they can buy, right?”

“Yeah, but?—”

“Let’s make this interesting,” he says, cutting me off. “Whichever one of us gets the highest bid, the other will donate five grand to the shelter.”

“Only five g’s? What is this, high school? Ten grand.”

“Fine. And the winner goes by Luke on the ice.”

Shit . Well, the shelter could use the money . But am I willing to lose my name over a stupid bet?

Of course I am, it’s for the shelter. “Deal.”

Keke’s voice rings out clearly. “And now, ladies, let’s give a warm round of applause for the team’s newest member. The rookie, Lucas Duvall!”

He shoulder-checks me on his way out, strutting onto the catwalk like he had been born for this moment. The crowd erupts into cheers and whistles, while I watch from behind the curtain.

With an exaggerated flair, Lucas begins to dance, pulling off ridiculous stripper moves that draw screams from the audience. I roll my eyes but I can’t suppress the grin forming on my face. In all fairness to him, he is good. He hams it up as much as possible, and I know that everything he’s doing will only benefit the shelter. The more ridiculous we are, the more they’ll pay.

“Looks like you’ve got some competition,” Seb mutters, and I force a chuckle, even as I feel the pressure of the moment bearing down on me.

As Lucas works the crowd, I notice Keke shaking her head, a smile on her face as she tries to keep her composure while reading the bids. I want to laugh with her, to share the absurdity of the moment, but it’s hard to do that when my heart is tied in knots.

I notice her smile die as she watches him, after every bid is placed. Something is bothering her enough that she can’t keep her professional composure in place. Whatever it is, it’s something big.

Fuck. She hates me for putting myself up for auction. She’s going to dump me.

I don’t know what else is shaking her resolve. It’s big, devastating, and personal. She would have texted me if something had happened to her brother, so a breakup or the loss of her job are the only things that I can think of in this moment. If it’s either one of those, it’s all my fault.

I’ve been so distracted by my own thoughts that I missed the bidding war, but then I hear Keke call out, “Do I hear four thousand for the chance to take Lucas home tonight?”

Holy shit, four grand? For that kid?

He spreads his arms out, making come hither motions with both hands as he grins at the crowd. The bids continue to pour in, the cheering growing louder with every shake of his hips as he dances and flirts. When the bass drops in the song that’s playing, he rips his shirt off.

Pandemonium ensues, and the crowd roars. Two women climb onto the stage, and he dances with them as they grope his bare chest. It’s all in good fun, but the bids begin to feel like a personal challenge to me. I can’t let him outshine me—not when the cause is so close to my heart. And if Keke is breaking up with me over the auction then I’m going to make it worth it.

That’s not exactly true. Nothing would be worth losing her. But I have to give the auction my all, either way. The shelter, and my career, depend on it.

“Sold, for eleven thousand dollars!” Keke announces. “The highest bid of the night! Way to go, Rookie!”

Lucas blows her a kiss which sends the ladies into a frenzy, several of them grabbing for him as he saunters backstage, so much so that security has to usher them back. He got down to his tuxedo pants and bowtie, his jacket slung over his bare shoulder. The kid is all brawn, no brains, and he’s pretty well muscled for someone his age. I had no idea where his shirt had gone until I see a woman in the crowd twirling it over her head.

Lucas looks me up and down. “Beat that, old-timer.”