Page 58 of The Fake Play

Within minutes he’s shirtless, and his bids are up to nine-thousand dollars.

“Ten grand for the pants button!” a woman calls out.

I laughed, realizing that this is a whole new kind of distraction from my problems. But when the crowd starts chanting, “Pants! Pants! Pants!” I begin to worry this could become a frenzy I might soon lose control of.

I have to put my foot down somewhere. “Alright, ladies, we’re letting him keep his pants?—”

“Boo!” they shout.

Maybe if I give them an alternative. “Ten grand, and he’ll take you out for ice cream on your date!”

“Pants! Pants! Pants!”

I sigh loudly on the mic. This is getting out of hand. “Ladies, a little decorum?—”

“Pants!”

Screw it. He put himself out here, he can deal with the consequences. I don’t want a mob on my hands, but I have to make a compromise somewhere. “Okay, you get his pants if we get up to twenty thousand.”

Luke’s attention jerks my way, shock all over his face. The crowd shouts gibberish, none of which I can make out at first. I can see Lucas lurking in the shadows at the edge of the catwalk, his smirk visible even from where I stand. That damn kid is the cause of all of this.

“Twenty thousand!” two voices shout from somewhere in the back, and the crowd erupts into cheers. I can’t quite see the women at first, but they wave their paddles with such fervor that I’m afraid someone might lose an eye.

I look at Luke, who’s still shocked all to hell at this turn of events. I hope he isn’t mad but then again, I kind of want him to be mad. It will make things easier when he dumps me.

Just then, the cold, hard reality of it all slams into me. There’s to be no happy ending here. No family, nothing real. Just two people who keep falling into bed together because they’re good at it. Surely he’ll dump me the minute he finds out I’m pregnant. After all, love is just something people talk about to get laid. It isn’t real.

However, this auction is real, and it can really do the shelter and his career some good, so I force myself back to the moment. The pair of bidders have come to the front and I ask, “There’s two of you on this bid?”

I have to admit, they are attractive. Mid-forties, refined, smiling at me with all the confidence in the world. They take turns eye-fucking him as they lick their lips. The brunette teases, “We’ll take him to go.”

I laugh, but there’s a tension there that I’m unable to hide. “You want a joint date or two separate ones?”

“We’re a package deal,” the blonde says. “But before we agree to the twenty grand, the pants come off for everyone to see what we won.”

Luke shrugs playfully. “I’m just glad I showered today!”

The crowd roars with laughter. I force myself to remember that this is all for a good cause, and if the pants came down, the money goes up. This is about to make every one of his squats, cable crunches, and bench presses worth it.

To my surprise, he turns to look at me for permission as he unbuttons. “Ms. Graham, is this kosher?”

Not just no, but hell no. That’s what I want to say. But this isn’t about me so I suck it up and tell him, “Give the people what they want, Mr. Smith.”

I catch sight of Lucas pacing backstage, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression dark as Luke slowly loses his trousers. Lucas had a decent body but he had nothing on Luke. The years have allowed him to build one hell of a physique, and seeing the other women marvel over him only makes me appreciate what I have even more.

The potential loss of him hits me right then and there, and my knees wobble.

I swallow it down, trying to focus on the auction, but I’m losing my will to stand, much less to speak. I feel the tension in the air, the anticipation building as I face the crowd, the moments hanging like a tightrope between us, teetering on the brink of something I can’t quite define yet. I know I have to giveit my all—not just for me, but for everything that rides on the success of this event.

He’s full of charisma and confidence as he wiggles free from his trousers, peeling them off slowly. Thank God he’s wearing boxer briefs instead of nothing at all like usual. I feel a sharp pang every time the audience erupts in cheers. I’m struggling to maintain my polished and professional demeanor. I need to get my head on straight.

“Okay, focus, Keke,” I mutter to myself, gripping my clipboard tightly as if it could anchor me to reality. I’ve been doing so well, keeping my feelings at bay, but seeing him out there reminds me of everything we’ve shared.

With every playful dance move he makes, my heart flutters, and I watch him bask in the crowd's adoration. Stage fright, my ass. He’s enjoying this.

Just then, Whitney joins me by the podium, scanning the crowd with a look of concern. She covers the mic with her hand and whispers, “Keke, you good? You’re pale.”

“I’m fine,” I reply too quickly, forcing a smile that feels more like a grimace. “Just a little nervous about how this is all going to go.”

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