But when I turn my eyes to Tyler again, I’m surprised to see a faint glimpse of the man I once knew—the man I really did love. His gaze has gentled, and he looks tired more than anything.
“Solet yourselflike him, Aurora,” he says, running one hand down his face. “Even if you’re angry right now. Be with him, if you want.” He pauses and then goes on. “Happiness doesn’t have to be a luxury.”
My breath catches in my chest and stays, builds, until well after Tyler has tromped around the side of the house and out of sight. When it finally explodes out of me, I pull my phone from the pocket of my leggings and dial.
“Roman,” I say breathlessly when he answers.
“Hmm?”
I inhale and then push the words out. “I’m mad at you.”
A beat of silence. “I know.”
“But—come to the auction. Please.”
Another silence, for so long I think he’s not going to answer, until?—
“And after the auction, little vandal?” The words are deep, slow, and I swallow.
“Show up and find out for yourself.”
AURORA
“All right,”Cyrus’s voice barks down the line at me. “Tell me about this auction.”
I turn back and forth, looking at my reflection in the floor-length mirror of the dressing room. “It’s called a none-of-your-business auction,” I say.
“Hilarious. So funny.”
I smile smugly and allow myself this moment of petty enjoyment, but the expression fades as I look again at the mirror.
Saturday has arrived, and with it the auction. I’m a ball of nerves, for multiple reasons. We’ve been working tirelessly on this event, and if it goes well, I’m going to ask Denice for a raise. At the same time, I’m going to be up on stage in front of a group of people searching for love—a group of two hundred exactly, infact, because we sold every last ticket. Any of them will be free to bid on me.
But the largest portion of my nervousness is due to the one man I want to be here. Roman said he would come tonight, and I texted him this morning to remind him, but all I got was a thumbs up.
I’m very confident he enjoys keeping me on my toes like this, the jerk. He probably sent that thumbs up while snickering at his phone and playing with his Rubik’s cube.
Then he probably looked at more real estate investments he could make behind the owners’ backs.
I cannotbelievehe bought my house. I can’t believe he had the money.
I can’t believe he had the audacity.
“Aurora,” Cyrus says loudly into my ear, and I roll my eyes.
“What?” I say.
“Are you listening to me?”
“Not really. I’m getting ready for the auction.”
“Poppy says it’s a date auction.”
“Why are you asking about it if you already know?”
“Because,” he says with the air of someone trying but failing to maintain patience, “I want to hear about it from you. Are people actually—what is it? Bidding? Are they bidding on you? Like livestock?”
“You make it sound wildly uncivilized,” I say with a frown. “No one here is livestock. Everyone is a member of our dating service. They signed up. They wanted to participate, and we go through extensive background verifications for our members.”
