Page 96 of Surviving the Merge
Pete said his goodbyes and walked further backstage.
“Is everything all right?” I asked.
“Yes, everything’s fine. Merely wondering if you’ve decided to come back to the OBH?”
“To be honest, Chancellor Davis, I’m not sure. I love what I’m doing here, and I don’t want to give it up.” But keeping my title at The OBH would put me in a position to help these kids and others like them. Kids that had a passion for dance but lacked the influence, and privilege, sometimes needed to make it to the top. “I need to determine if it’s possible to do both.”
He nodded, appraising me. “You’ve changed, Justin. You’re more open and grounded in who you are. You were a smidge adrift in the past. Like life was merely pulling you along on its currents. You have purpose now—one that is bigger than you. Hold on to it. It’s what makes life worth living.” He looked thoughtful as he tweaked his bow tie.
“You know, there’s a famous quote that I love, ‘What counts isn’t always counted, and what’s counted doesn’t always count.’ Don’t worry about the accolades, the writeups, and the validation from your peers that come with your position at the OBH. The work you’re doing here is what really matters. It’s whatcounts.You’ll always have a friend at the Ballet House, and if you’re here, this is where I’ll be scouting for talent. Now, who do I speak to about not only making a donation but also sponsorship?”
I directed the chancellor to the main office and lingered deep in thought backstage long after. He’d given me a lot to think over.
I was then seized by the waist, spun, and pinned against the wall. With a face full of my hair and something very hard pressed firmly against my thigh, I muttered out of breath, “This better be Javier.”
“Who the fuck is Javier?” Damon growled.
Pushing my hair back, I grinned. “You make it too easy.”
“That’s because I’m too trusting,” he said.
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it,” I said straight-faced. “What are you doing back here anyway? And why are you hard, you little deviant?” I teased.
“Seeing you in tights always gives me an instant hard-on.” He reached both hands behind me and took a firm hold of my ass, raising me to my tiptoes and grinding his cock against mine. We both groaned. “I’m actually getting ready to change to go on stage for the auction,” Damon said, in between biting at my neck.
“Shit, I need to get changed. I’m bidding on Sam! How much time do I have?”
Pete wasn’t too happy about Sam being auctioned off. I decided to bid on her under the guise of worrying about her safety in the hands of some stranger. Which wasn’t far from the truth anyway.
Checking his watch, Damon confirmed, “Ten minutes.”
I leaned in for what I intended to be a quick kiss, but he held my head to his forcefully and tried to turn my mouth inside out.
* * *
Grabbinga paddle from the table outside the auditorium, I entered through the back, relieved to see that I hadn’t missed much.
After Max’s introduction, he sauntered on stage, looking sexy in a tailored tux. He cleaned up nice. More than a handful of people put in bids, and he was currently going for one thousand dollars when the auctioneer called, “Going once, going twice—”
“Five thousand dollars!” someone shouted from across the room. I couldn’t see a face, but I’d know that voice anywhere. If I needed further confirmation, Max’s facial expression said it all.
The auctioneer banged the gavel and yelled, “Sold to—?” looking to the bidder for an answer.
“Ashton Jackson.” Said with a note of triumph. Max was in trouble.
Sam stepped from behind the curtain. Pete came up from behind me to stand on my right side.
“I have some money saved if you need it,” he whispered as the auctioneer read off her stats to the attendees. “To help, you know... protect her.”
“Thanks. I might need it depending on how this goes,” I said to make him feel useful. I ruffled his shaggy, brown hair. “You need a haircut. Sam cuts hair, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.” He blushed and averted his gaze.
“No, way. Pete, did you grow your hair just so you could ask her to cut it?”
“Two hundred dollars!”someone yelled, and I had to get myself in the game before Pete could answer me.
I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted, “Five hundred dollars!” My deep, husky voice wasn’t the best for traveling long distances.
