I guessed I’d have to Google that too.

“Tonight’s event is for raising money that will eventually go to shelter, rehabilitate, and find homes for rescued animals in New York. I attend whenever I’m able to. It’s good to see a few people I’ve known for most of my life, and it’s for a cause I care about.”

I immediately forgot about whatever it was that he wasn’t telling me about his family. Aaron cared about the welfare of animals? About rescuing them and finding them new homes?

Right on cue, something fuzzy and warm tingled in my chest. And the feeling got only worse when I found myself picturing Aaron holding a bunch of cute puppies that he cared about and raised money for in his bulky arms. As he knelt on a field. In his football gear. Tight pants. Shoulders that went for miles. Dirt smudged on his cheeks.

That warmth turned a little thicker and harder to ignore.

“That’s … great,” I said, trying to kick those images out of my head. “Really nice of you.”

Aaron’s gaze turned to me, and one of his eyebrows went up. He was probably weirded out by how hard I was blushing.

Why can’t I stop blushing?

“Do you always bring a fake date to this event?” I blurted out without thinking.

“No.” Aaron’s lips pressed in a flat line. “I’ve always attended alone. This is the first time I’m bringing a date.”

A date.

A date?

My eyebrows wrinkled. A fake date, not a date.

I was about to correct him, but he spoke first, “We are almost there.”

I remained in silence as I processed everything I had just learned. This new depth of Aaron I had discovered. A little peek through that crack he had revealed to me. And all those dangerous mental images I had acquired, which, much to my dismay, would stick with me for a long time. That was something that needed some processing too.

“Wait,” I let out as he made a turn to the right. “You didn’t tell me what’s being auctioned. Or why I’m here.”

The vehicle came to a slow stop in front of one of the numerous skyscrapers on Park Avenue. Looking over, I spotted a parking valet waiting on the sidewalk.

Eyes wide, I turned to Aaron. A freaking valet? Shit.

His blue gaze settled on me one last time, and I swore there was something wolfish, something a little wild, about them.

“Me.” He tilted his head, holding my gaze. “That’s what’s being auctioned.” His voice matched the quality of his eyes, making a shiver trail down my arms. “And that’s what you’ll be bidding on tonight, Catalina. Me.”

Eyes even wider and jaw probably lying somewhere around my high heels, I blinked and watched Aaron throw the driver’s door open. He walked around the car as I—unsuccessfully—tried to gather my wits. He gestured to the valet not to open my door.

Aaron did.

The humid summer breeze grazed my arms and legs as this blue-eyed man, who I was starting to understand I knew little about, offered his hand.

“Miss Martín, if you please.”

I blinked at him for a long moment. My whole body numb with … things I failed to pin down and identify.

One of the corners of his lips bent with the start of a smirk; he was clearly enjoying how discombobulated I was. How scattered I must appear. God, he looked as amused as I had ever seen him.

“Today better than tomorrow, Catalina.”

That comment was so Aaron, so like the Aaron I knew and was familiar and comfortable with—the one who was curt and demanding, not the one who was taking me to a fundraiser so I could bid on him in an auction—that my hand shot to his, being immediately engulfed in his much larger one.

He helped me out of the car, the long skirt of my gown that wasn’t really a gown cascading down my legs. Aaron let my hand drop all too quickly, leaving my palm warm from his touch. Then, he held the massive and sumptuous door of the Park Avenue skyscraper open for me.

I took one step forward, trying to keep the hammering in my chest under control.

All right.

My other foot moved in front of me.

So, I’d be fake-bidding for my fake date tonight. For my soon-to-be fake boyfriend if our deal was still up after tonight.

No big deal, right?

Chapter Eight

When Aaron had mentioned fundraiser, followed by auction, I had pictured a fancy but frilly room filled with wealthy and uptown old people. Don’t ask me why. But I had not expected the spectacular rooftop where we had been welcomed with a flute glass of the tastiest sparkling wine I had ever had the pleasure to drink. And surely, not the trendy—and rather extravagant—array of people of all ages and backgrounds in attendance.

Who knew that the upper spheres of the Big Apple could be so … colorful?

Not that I had met everybody here. Actually, we had pretty much stuck to those somehow related to the football world. Which seemed natural after Aaron’s revelation about his past and his family involvement in it. For the last hour, I had been introduced to a couple of coaches and team coordinators, a sportscaster, and a number of influential people whose positions I wasn’t familiar with but that I nodded to like I knew exactly what they did. The only people we had talked to outside the sports bubble were a few entrepreneurs whose corporations, enterprises, and whatnot I had never heard of either.

Every time we encountered a new group of people, Aaron introduced me as Catalina Martín, not adding any kind of label before or after my name. Which somehow helped me lose all that tension I had carried with me from the car drive and definitely aided with my newfound intention of trying to enjoy myself.

This was my first time at an event like this one, and it would most likely be my last, so the least I could do was have fun.

“I already said so, but I’m so happy to see you, Aaron.” Angela, a lady in her fifties who was clad in a dress that was probably worth two or three times my month’s rent, smiled. “Especially with someone on your arm.”

I felt my cheeks heat, so I distracted myself, taking a sip from my fancy flute glass.

We had been chatting with her for a few minutes now. And the whole time, I had been silently watching the woman with fascination. Her elegance and poise had me in awe. And unlike more than a few people here, she had kind eyes. The fact that she was the mind behind tonight’s event was only the cherry on top.

“So, tell me”—Angela’s lips inched higher—“you’ll be taking part in this year’s auction too, I presume? I still haven’t gotten the chance to check the final list.”

“Yes, of course,” Aaron answered from his post at my side.

We hadn’t had time to discuss what the deal with this whole me bidding for him was. By the time I had somehow pulled it together, we had been walking out of the elevator and into the party. We’d been quickly jumping from one small group of people to the next, so I hadn’t had the chance to interrogate him about it.

“That’s lovely to hear.” She took a sip of her drink. “I had my doubts, if I may be completely honest.” Angela threw her head back and laughed. “Last year’s auction was … intense. Very entertaining, to say the least.”

Aaron shifted by my side. Glancing at him, I could tell by the way his shoulders tensed that he was slightly uncomfortable with where the conversation was going.

That piqued my curiosity.

Angela continued, “Good thing you brought someone tonight. I’m sure it will keep the night alive.” She turned to me. “Catalina dear, I hope you are ready for some fierce competition.”

I sensed Aaron shifting some more. Which pushed my eyes to bounce from Angela to him. “Fierce competition?” I repeated, thinking of Aaron’s words—“And that’s what you’ll be bidding on tonight, Catalina. Me.”—and piecing together that perhaps that was exactly why I was here.