Highest Bidder (Salacious Players’ Club)

Ronan

Listening to Daisy play, for real this time, feels like meeting for the first time and reliving every moment of our time together. She sings about Paris and L’Amour and the Eiffel Tower and the terrible lighting in the ER. She even sings about the fucking cheese.

Some songs are upbeat, and I recognize the melodies from when she played in my apartment. There are a couple that are slow and sad, and I know they’re about her mother. She has a way of manipulating the mood in the room effortlessly, making all of us feel what she’s feeling.

I’m so incredibly proud of her.

When she finishes her set, she’s bombarded by people when she tries to leave the stage, and I watch with pride as they ask for her autograph and photos.

“She’s pretty good,” Eden says, stepping up next to me at the bar. I’ve stood back while she and Geo and Mia cheered Daisy on from one of the tables. I didn’t want to complicate things by mingling with Daisy’s friends. As much as I wish I were part of her crowd, I know that’s not the case anymore.

“Pretty good?” I snap, sounding offended. “She’s a fucking star.”

Eden laughs as she waves down the bartender. “I know. I’m just getting you riled up.”

“Very funny,” I mutter.

“You’re going to stick around and tell her yourself, right?”

I take a long, deep sigh as I swirl my bourbon in my glass. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It’s been two months, Ronan. She’s proving to you right now that she can take care of herself. That’s what you wanted, right?”

Forcing myself to swallow, I nod. “Yeah. That is exactly what I wanted.”

Eden lets out a long huff. “Ugh, don’t tell me you’re going to try and give me that she’s better off without me bullshit.”

My only response is the clenching of my jaw. “She’s doing pretty good, though. I don’t need to fuck that up for her.”

“What, by giving her love and support? Oh yeah, better not do that,” Eden replies sarcastically.

I shake my head as I down the rest of the liquor in my glass. The thing I don’t tell Eden is that Daisy might be making progress, but I’m not. She needed me, and I needed to be needed.

So what does that make us now?

It’s best to just let things go. She’s happy and doing well. That’s all I want. If she’s happy, I’m happy.

“Is that Ronan Kade?” Mia jokes as she approaches the bar on the other side of me. “I haven’t seen you in a while. You’re starting to freak out my fiancé, so I really need you to come back to the club.”

I laugh as I greet the bubbly blonde taking the seat next to me. It wasn’t all that long ago that I was giving her romantic advice at the bar in Salacious. She and Garrett clearly worked things out.

“Hey…” she says with excitement as her wide eyes meet Eden’s.

“What?” I ask with trepidation.

“You should be in our charity auction tomorrow night.”

My brow furrows as I glance at Eden. “It was my idea. We’re doing a sort of…reverse auction type thing. Asking our VIP members to auction off something and match the bids. It’s for the DV Support Shelter.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” I ask, feeling a little hurt that she wouldn’t think of me.

She shrugs. “You’ve been going through stuff. I didn’t know if you were ready to come back.”

I turn toward Mia with a smile. “I’ll match all the bids, Mia, but I won’t be getting on that stage.”

“Come on,” she pleads with a pout. “Everyone would love to see you. You don’t have to actually go on any dates or anything. Hell, you could auction a fucking hug and people would go crazy.”

“I’ll think about it,” I reply gently.

The next time I look up, Daisy’s there. Standing behind Mia, she gives me a small smile.

“Hey,” she mumbles. Her cheeks are flushed and she looks thirsty, so without responding to her greeting, I grab the bartender as he walks by.

“Ice water, please.”

He gives me a nod before quickly filling a glass. As he passes it to me, I hand it directly to Daisy. She gives me a tight-lipped smile as she takes it.

“Thank you.”

The first thing I notice about her is that she looks good. Her hair has gotten longer. The fringe that used to hang over her eyes has grown out to curl behind her ears, and her cheeks have taken on a fullness, which means she’s eating well. That makes me feel better.

The others make small talk around us as I watch Daisy. I haven’t laid my eyes on her in so long that it feels good to just look at her.

“I missed your birthday,” I mutter, and she responds with a casual shrug.

“It’s okay.”

After a moment of awkward silence, I confidently add, “You did great tonight, Daisy. I’m proud of you.”

Her smile slips before she quickly looks away. “Thank you.”

I want to say something else—anything else. I want to drag out this conversation for hours, days, years. The urge to keep her in my sights is visceral, but when Geo throws his arm around her and the rest of them squeal in celebration of her, I stand from the barstool. I’ve already paid their tabs and I’m sure they want to party without me hanging around.

“Make sure she gets home safe,” I mutter to Geo, and he gives me a reassuring expression. I trust him. “Good night,” I say to the rest of them, letting my eyes stray for a moment on Daisy’s face. Her lips are parted as she watches me leave.

I make it all the way to the street before I hear her voice behind me.

“Ronan,” she calls, before I climb into the back of my car. When I turn, she’s standing there in that cut-up T-shirt and tight pants. I have a feeling just by the look on her face that whatever she’s about to say right now isn’t about us or getting back together.

“I never really got any answers to my questions. And something I never understood…”

“What is it, Daisy?”

“Was it for her or for me?”

“The money?”

She nods.

I take a step toward her, my face pinching together in concentration as I remember that day and the pain I felt letting Shannon go. I remember writing that check like it was yesterday. And I recall distinctly why I wrote it.

“It was for you, baby girl.”

“Why?”

I take a moment to form my response, not quite sure how to express exactly what I felt that day, writing such a big check for a little girl I had never met. A girl who should have meant nothing to me, but I wanted her to have the world regardless.

“Because I wanted to take care of you.”

The moisture in her eyes glistens from the streetlamps overhead. When she doesn’t respond, I take another step closer, wiping where a single tear trails over her cheek. “It’s your money, Daisy. Do whatever you want with it. Go live your big, poetic, musical life. Make it fucking amazing.”

When she sucks in a breath, another tear falls, but I don’t wipe that one away, because she doesn’t need me to—not anymore.