Page 161 of Whistle

On the other side of Rush, Landry cheered and clapped. Rush threw out a few whoops and the rest of Elite chanted, “Coach, Coach, Coach.”

I just wanted this to be over. I wanted him to be mine. Only mine.

“Because this is such a high-quality man,” the dean began, “let’s start the bid at three thousand.”

And people started to bid on the man whose whistle was in my pocket. The man who’s cum currently was smeared between my thighs.

I tucked my hands beneath my knees, listening to people toss out a price, slapping a monetary value on something I considered priceless.

But maybe he wasn’t priceless after all because this moment sure was costing me.

“Eight thousand!” someone bid.

“Turn around a little, Emmett. Show off the merchandise.” Dean Cardinal laughed.

Emmett’s jaw flexed, but he turned in a slow circle.

“I think that’s what the kids would call aging like fine wine,” the dean mused.

Did I mention I hated the dean? I did. Probably more than Lars.

Oh, what’s that? You don’t care if I hate the dean, but my intense dislike for that blond-haired Swede offends you?

Maybe I’ll turn on some Celine Dion and feel all emo about it.

But likely not.

“Oh, that’s my nurse from when I was in the hospital.” Landry seemed excited, patting on Rush’s leg. “Do you remember her?”

“How could I forget?” Rush mused. “Coach pulled out his whistle, and she gave him the evil eye.”

Landry giggled. “I might have told her he would be here tonight.”

A sour taste coated my tongue, and I pulled my hands from under my legs to chip away at the fresh black polish on my nails.

“Ten thousand!”

“Eleven!”

“I’m worried she’s going to be outbid.” Landry fretted. “She’s a nurse, not an heiress.”

“Fifteen!”

“Looks to me like she’s determined,” Rush mused. “Maybe she’s a nurse and an heiress.”

I craned my head, staring through the faces to pick out the woman Landry had invited for her dad. I spotted her easily because she still had her paddle in the air. She was probably around Emmett’s age, maybe a little younger, with straight, long dark hair that fell over her shoulders, and from what I could see, her dress was white. Beside her, a woman leaned in and spoke, and she smiled, eyes still on Em.

“Fifteen thousand, going once…”

“Oooh, hurry up,” Landry chanted. “I hope she wins.”

The urge to throw out an obscene amount of money and ruin their entire plan was so strong I actually started to speak.

“What’s that, bro?” Rush asked, nudging my shoulder.

“I gotta piss,” I said, standing.

The movement caught Emmett’s eye, and for a brief moment, our stares collided. Why can’t things be different?

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