I laugh, shaking my head as the women talk over each other with their bids. Carter is smoking hot, and if he weren’t a friend, I’m pretty sure I’d happily empty my bank account for a night of looking at that face and getting to feel his body pressed to mine.

“Two thousand dollars to the woman in the pretty red dress,” Molly says.

Carter struts across the stage and stops by Molly, who’s updating the bids as fast as her mouth can say the words. He scans the crowd and then stops when his gaze lands on me.

“Excuse me,” he says into the microphone. His sexy baritone reverberates throughout the room, and the women at the front lose their shit, throwing their arms up and surging toward the stage like he’s some sort of rock star.

“Marry me, Carter Jackson!” someone shrieks from the mass of bodies.

Carter chuckles into the microphone and gently takes it from Molly’s hand. “Hey, everybody.”

More screams of adoration. More desperate shrieks proclaiming love.

“There are no words for this level of insanity,” Shay says.

I grin. “No kidding.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt the bidding, Molly,” Carter says with a bashful grin toward the banquet’s emcee. “I have something I need to do.”

“Four thousand dollars,” someone shouts, and the crowd laughs.

Carter draws in a deep breath. “Wow. Ladies, I’m humbled. I truly am. But I’m going to ask if we can do something a little unconventional tonight.”

“What is he doing?” Shay asks.

“I have no idea,” I mutter, even as dread curls in my stomach. Is he going to call in that favor now?

“When I agreed to do this bachelor auction, I was a single man looking to meet a beautiful woman, but a lot has changed since I signed up to stand on this stage tonight.” The crowd laughs. “I started seeing someone. We’ve kept it a secret until tonight, but I have to confess, in the past two months, I’ve fallen in love.”

“He’s what?” Shay says as the crowd reacts with a chorus of aww and a few gasps of protest.

“Would the beautiful Teagan Chopra come on stage, please?”

He didn’t.

Shay snaps her head to me, her eyes wide. “You’re seeing Carter?”

“I . . .”

One by one, the members of the crowd turn away from the stage with whispers of “Who is she?” “Where?” “He has a girlfriend?” “I thought this was a singles auction?”

“Teagan?” He crooks a finger at me and flashes that lopsided smile that makes even my knees go a little weak.

My cheeks blaze. To all the world, Carter is smiling at his girlfriend, but I know him well enough to see the truth in his eyes. “You owe me,” that smile says. “Don’t let me down.”

My journey from the back of the room to the stage is miserable. Thousands of eyes are on me—judging, speculating, criticizing—and the whispers feel like razor blades to my flimsy confidence. If this is Carter’s way of calling in a favor, I’ll be sure to never ask anything of him again.