Hidden Play: The Return 《COMPLETE》

Chapter 29

A/N: A big thank you to all the motivational and supportive messages from you folks last chapter. True story – after reading them all, I may or may not have shed a tear or two (while playing it off as just a bit of eye sweat). Haha.

I hope you all are having a kick-ass weekend. Enjoy the chapter, ladies and gents!

_____________

Chapter 29

The surreal moment with Zion doesn't last long enough. Then again, the good ones never do. Attempting to show his support, Dakota only waits a beat before sidling up to my other side and placing his hand into mine. Unintentionally, the romantic gesture morphs into a show of team unity. The team falls in line with their captain's example. They form a huddle around me and join the crowd in their uproarious applause. Zion and Dakota lift my arms, and the audience erupts with their final burst of accolades.

The emcee reigns in the chaos with congenial appreciation, thanking the audience (on repeat) until he successfully earns back their attention. The remaining players are quickly introduced, and the group of us makes our way to the chairs placed on the outskirts of the stage. Zion and Dakota don't hesitate in taking their spots on either side of me. Zion glances at the space between our chairs and scoots his a few inches closer to mine before sitting down. He eases back into the chair, folding his hands behind his head, and looking every bit the part of a confident guy who rules the school.

Not an ounce of nerves or stress ever bristles the cool, collected air around him. He remains guarded, strong, and unwavering. Amongst the heat and excitement of the room, the familiar scent of his cologne finds its way to my senses. It tugs at the invisible jar of memories of us, the one I try to keep locked away in my mind. Even though my eyes might be on Coach as he approaches the podium, my thoughts are elsewhere.

Unlike the peppered scoffs from my teammates, Coach's reiteration of the 'rule changes' for this year's Auction Event aren't received well. It starts with a collection of 'boos' before a few of our peers stand up and throw handfuls of popcorn in his direction.

"Well, aren't they an entire mood," I hear Mike mutter behind me. "Fuckin' clowns."

"No kidding," Dakota agrees. "None of us were happy about the no solo-bidding, but they're reacting like they had some pre-conceived agenda to bid on one of us until they ran their bank account dry."

"I dunno," Radik shrugs. "After seeing how they reacted to Broncs just now, maybe that was their plan."

Biting jealousy laces each one of his words, and I attempt to brush it off with a laugh. "Yea, well, not on my watch," I say lightly.

Zion smirks from beside me and mutters under his breath, "nor mine."

It's quiet enough that most of the other guys can't hear, but I do, and so does Dakota. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but his body language remains otherwise unaffected. A swirling heat builds in my stomach. Pride.

Coach thumps a fist on the podium, effectively ending our conversation, and forcing our attention back to him. The emcee senses his frustration and cuts in to ease the tension.

"Let's go ahead and start the bidding!" the booming voice announces. "First on the docket – Dakota Johnson and Mike Sharpe. Guys, please make your way up to the podium!"

The auction flies by in tumultuous waves of bids, cheers, and anarchy. Each pair of my teammates make a Broadway production out of their bidding war. They ham up their time in the spotlight and encourage the audience to raise the stakes. The crowd eats it up. My nerves become both dismantled and heightened as we near the end of the auction.