The Boyfriend Bid (The Girlfriend Request)

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Discover more of Entangled Teen Crush’s books… 99% Faking It

  Just Pretending

  Incriminating Dating

  Playing the Player

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Jodie Andrefski. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  2614 South Timberline Road

  Suite 105, PMB 159

  Fort Collins, CO 80525

  rights@entangledpublishing.com

  Crush is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

  Edited by Stacy Abrams

  Cover design by Bree Archer

  Cover photography by cirano83/Getty Images

  ISBN 978-1-64063-781-8

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition April 2019

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for supporting a small publisher! Entangled prides itself on bringing you the highest quality romance you’ve come to expect, and we couldn’t do it without your continued support. We love romance, and we hope this book leaves you with a smile on your face and joy in your heart.

  xoxo

  Liz Pelletier, Publisher

  For my mom.

  Thank you for always believing in me, even when I sometimes didn’t believe in myself.

  And to my son, Corey, and his beautiful bride, Brii.

  Be good to each other. Always stay best friends.

  I wish you love, happiness, and a lifetime of amazing memories.

  Prologue

  “Chance, you’re up next.”

  Out of nowhere, I felt nervous. I never got nervous, not even before games. Not even before we went to State two years ago. What the hell?

  What if I got out there under all those frickin’ bright lights and marched around and not one single person wanted to bid on me and I looked like a complete tool? I turned to ask the backstage organizer if that had ever happened, and what we were supposed to do if it did happen, but no one was there.

  “Great. Just great,” I muttered. I thought for a few seconds about bolting out the back door before shaking my head. What the heck is wrong with me? I wondered if seeing Sarah had anything to do with my sudden onslaught of nerves.

  “Ladies, we are now up to your final opportunity of the evening to bid on one of our great guys in the Dates with Heart Benefit Auction. This is your last chance to win a night on the town with one of Auburn High School’s most eligible gentlemen. Remember, this entire event is all for fun and is benefiting a great cause.”

  I guess the organizers considered the fact that I was the new guy in school a good enough reason to leave me for the final participant. I hoped they didn’t make a poor choice.

  Rounds of cheers and applause broke out so loud that it drowned out Ms. Karon’s voice. “Now I know you’re all excited, so I’m not going to keep you waiting any longer. Let’s hear it for number twenty-five, Chance DuPont!”

  I shoved the hair out of my eyes, took a deep breath, and walked onto the stage.

  It was showtime.

  Chapter One

  Sarah

  Everybody put up your hands up, say, I don’t wanna be in love ~ Good Charlotte

  “You did what?”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Okay, maybe I could, given Emma’s propensity for the unexpected. Emma may have been my best friend, and I loved her to death, but she tended to be a bit dramatic.

  And she loved to meddle.

  “I signed you up as a bidder in the Dates with Heart Benefit Auction.” Her smile grew even wider as she waved a Pepto-Bismol-pink sheet of paper my way. “You’re bidder twenty-one. It’s a lucky number, so I feel pretty good about it.”

  I exhaled slowly, counting to ten in my head.

  “Sarah, this is perfect.” She pointed to the paper.

  I was used to Emma’s out-there ideas, especially after her whole fake Facebook profile scheme last spring to attract her (now) boyfriend Eli’s attention.

  “I’m not bidding on some random guy who I have no interest in dating.” I raised an eyebrow and stared her down.

  Emma stared back, undaunted. “Well of course you aren’t going to really date him.” She rolled her eyes like it should be obvious.

  “Um, then why would I bid on one?” I took the paper from her and shook my head. Seriously? What brainchild thought up the color scheme? They couldn’t have come up with a better color choice for the flyers than something that looked like the stuff you drink when you’re sick to your stomach?

  I scanned the sheet.

  Dates with Heart Benefit Auction! Win a date with one of Auburn High School’s hottest guys—all for a great cause!

  A list of names of the guys up for bid followed. A few were unfamiliar to me, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t have the slightest interest in dating, period.

  “You need to put yourself back out there and get over Doug,” she said softly.

  My stomach tightened hearing his name. Doug and I had been a couple for almost two years. But after he’d broken my heart right before the start of our senior year, I’d sworn off dating. At least for the next decade or so. It might have been one thing if Doug had talked to me like a normal human and told me he wanted to call it quits. But instead, I’d found out when he’d posted a picture of some leggy cheerleader draped all over him on his Instagram. Our conversation after I’d seen the photo hadn’t gone well.

  My mouth went dry, and I shook my head. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  “I’m not telling you to jump back into anything serious. But this…” She pointed to the pink paper again. “This is exactly what you need. A night of fun packaged in some hot body.” She grinned. “And there are plenty of those to choose from on the list.”

  My jaw dropped. “Who are you and what have you done with my sweet, innocent friend?”

  Emma and I had been best friends since she moved to town in elementary school. Our friendship had stood the test of time, first loves, and my parents’ divorce two summers ago.

  “It’s not like I’m saying you have to make out with whoever you bid on. I’m sure none
of the guys on here expect anything like that. It’s meant to be a simple, fun night out. That’s it.” She paused, then reached over to squeeze my hand for a few seconds. “I just think opening yourself up to the idea of someone else might be good for you,” she continued on, more softly.

  I shook my head as the other third of our sworn bestie trio made her way toward us. I turned to include her in the conversation. “Megan, talk some sense into her, please.” I shoved my history book into my backpack and slammed the locker door shut.

  Emma handed the paper to Megan and sighed. “She said she won’t do it.”

  Megan reached up to twist her mass of red hair into a sloppy bun. “Yes, she will.”

  I groaned. “Not you, too?”

  “Sarah, this will be good for you. You need it.” Typical Megan, blunt and matter-of-fact.

  She looped one arm through mine and the other through Emma’s and propelled us toward the double doors leading to the student parking lot. As we pushed through, the harsh February wind temporarily bit back my response as it sucked my breath away. I couldn’t wait for winter to be over and the warm weather to find its way to us in a few weeks. Then again, last year we had snow on Easter. And that’s late for Pennsylvania.

  Mostly bare branches of towering trees reached above us along the walkway leading from the school steps to the lot where my car was parked about fifty yards away. The three of us always drove together, although Megan and I were usually the ones who took turns playing chauffeur. Emma didn’t really like to drive. I tugged up the collar of my denim jacket and wished I’d worn something heavier.

  A couple of minutes later, we climbed into my car, an old VW Bug that was well past the stage of being vintage and cute. But it got me from point A to point B. I felt a twinge of guilt whenever the green-eyed monster hit me when I saw friends and classmates driving their shiny new cars, because I knew Mom didn’t have the money to help me buy something else. She worked hard just to get the bills paid.

  Emma continued on from the back seat without missing a beat. “Look, we aren’t telling you to run out and find your Prince Charming. But you need to get back out there after that jerkwad Do—”

  Megan shot Emma a look. They knew I didn’t like to talk about Doug. He was kind of like Voldemort in our circle. The Ex Who Shall Not Be Named.

  “What she means is that you deserve to just let loose a little. Go out, enjoy yourself with some cute guy. We’re seventeen. These are supposed to be the best years of our lives.”

  I snorted, then started the car and turned on the radio. I didn’t like to drive anywhere without music. “I just don’t see the point.” I shook my head and backed out of the parking space. “And anyway, I need to focus on studying if I’m going to actually have a shot at NYU.” What I really meant, and what my friends were polite enough to let go unsaid, was that we all knew I needed some major scholarship money if I had any hopes of attending. I’d been thrilled when I’d gotten my acceptance letter, but way less so after I’d learned that student loans wouldn’t cover the entire tuition. I pasted a fake smile on my face. Worrying about money was embarrassing, even in front of my besties.

  “Do you want to come over Saturday to finish our history project?” I looked at Megan. Our project was due the following Monday, and we still had a lot to do. “Emma, you’re welcome to come by, too. We can watch a movie when we finish.”

  “Don’t you have that volunteer thing this weekend?” Megan glanced over at me as we waited in a line of cars all anxiously inching toward the exit.

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “But I should be done by like five, you guys can come over after that.” An idea struck. “Hey, why don’t you both bring your stuff and stay over? We haven’t done that in forever. I can get some junk food, we’ll order a pizza.” I stretched the last words out like taffy, hoping they’d say yes.

  A big part of me missed the old days when life seemed so easy, without worries about college or money or jerk cheating boyfriends. A night just hanging out with my friends watching movies and overdosing on chocolate sounded perfect.

  Emma’s eyes lit up, and she bounced on the seat. “Yes! That’ll be so much fun. Let’s do it.”

  “Sure, that sounds good.” Megan craned her neck to see what was causing such a long delay as we waited to turn out of the long Y-shaped road that led from school onto the main town road. “This is nuts.” She leaned over and pressed down on the car horn, holding it for a solid ten seconds.

  “Megs, stop it.” I nudged her away. Megan was great, but patience was not her strongest virtue.

  A large black truck was in the line ahead of us. A head popped out of the truck’s driver side window. “I can’t levitate over the cars in front of me, you know.” The guy’s dark hair flopped into his eyes as he shook his head.

  Megan whipped him the finger in response.

  “Seriously, Megan?” I swatted her hand down, my cheeks heating.

  “Hey, he’s the one who started it.” She rolled down her window, then turned to me and giggled. “Rev the motor.”

  “What?”

  “Just please do it a second.” She grinned.

  I sighed and pressed down on the gas for a few seconds, my other foot still on the brake pedal.

  Megan shot the driver of the pickup a cocky grin before yelling back at him, “I’m sorry, were you saying something? We can’t hear you!” She gestured to her ear with one hand, then reached over toward me with the other. Before I realized what she was doing, she pressed down hard on my knee.

  The car shot forward. Sounds of crunching metal and glass filled the air.

  “Shit! Shit, shit, shit!” Megan’s eyes went wide as I scrambled to hit the brake.

  I stared straight ahead in shock for a few moments before looking back over at Megan. “Are you crazy? Why on earth would you do that?”

  “I didn’t mean to. I just meant to rev the engine a little again.” Her expression was as shocked as I felt.

  “Is everyone okay?” I looked to the back seat. Emma nodded and offered a shaky smile.

  A sharp rapping on the driver side window made me jump.

  “What the hell?” The driver of the truck had materialized next to my car door.

  I stuttered unintelligibly at him.

  “You hit my truck.” His dark eyes shot sparks.

  I still couldn’t speak. I rolled the window down, mute.

  Megan leaned over. “Look, it was an accident. She’s really sorry.”

  I whipped my head in her direction. “I’m really sorry?”

  “So, you aren’t sorry? Like this was my fault?” he asked.

  My head swiveled back to the guy standing six inches away from my car door.

  “Like I said, it was an accident,” Megan repeated.

  His eyes moved in Megan’s direction. “Are you her official spokesperson?”

  I finally found my voice. “Seriously? She was just being a friend and trying to explain that—”

  “Yeah, I heard her. I was talking to you, though.”

  My eyes widened. “Look, there’s no need to be a jerk about it and interrupt me. It’s rude.”

  His eyes roved over my face as I spoke. He tilted his head, bangs spilling into his eyes. “And exactly how was it an accident, anyway? You were revving like you were prepping for the Indy 500.” He looked at Megan briefly, then turned his laser focus back on me. A hint of a smile crossed his face. He probably thought I was a few screws short of a set. My stomach tightened. There was no way Mom or I could afford an unexpected bill. I forced my eyes not to well up with tears and took a deep breath as I pushed my car door open. The guy jumped back in surprise to avoid being hit by it.

  “Now who’s being rude?” he muttered.

  I fake-smiled at him. “Funny.” I strode forward between the vehicles to check out the damage. “Oh for Pete’s sake, it’s barely dented.” His truck really wasn’t bad at all, thank goodness. Most of the damage showed up in broken glass from the busted headlights littering the
street around my feet.

  The guy walked over to stand next to me and looked down. I nudged his bumper with my boot. “It sounded worse than it actually is. You can probably bang the dent out with a hammer.” Too bad the same couldn’t be said about my poor Bug.

  He raised an eyebrow and stared at me. He was so close that I could feel his warm breath on my cheeks as he spoke. “Oh, really. And you have enough experience with banging out dents with a hammer to know that’s all it needs?” He smirked.

  “Well, no, not exactly,” I admitted. I crossed my arms over my chest and ignored his eyes following the movement. Out of nowhere, something in my stomach flipped over. I quickly looked away, annoyed at myself and my unwanted reaction to the cute stranger.

  Megan joined us. “I’m really sorry. It actually was my fault. I pushed her foot down on the gas pedal.”

  The guy did his eyebrow-raising thing again. “Practicing some brand-new driving technique for Daytona?”

  I could see that Megan was upset. “It’s okay, Megs. I know you didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  I waited to see his reaction, hoping he’d be able to tell that she meant it and accept her apology, too. But instead of looking at Megan, he stared at me for several long seconds. A blush warmed my cheeks, and I looked away.

  Drivers were beginning to blow their horns, and some, more impatient, pulled around us, heads hanging out their windows to check out the spectacle. I shifted awkwardly, dragging my boot in the dead grass next to the macadam road.

  “Let me give you my insurance card.” Megan rooted around in her purse. “I can see if mine can somehow cover it, since I caused it.” She looked at me, and I could tell she was worried that this would put my family in a bind. I appreciated her offer but knew it wouldn’t work.

  I moved to head back to my car. “I’ll get my information for you. Just a second.”

  A hand on my sleeve stopped me. “Don’t worry about it. I have it on good authority I can just bang out the dent with a hammer.”

  I jerked my head up in time to see him grin and wink at me.

  “Are…are you sure?” Relief washed over me.

  He nodded. “Yep, I’m sure.” He paused. “I’m Chance, by the way.”