Page 15 of Call the Shots (For The Arena #1)

JUNE

POST-APOCALYPTIC FIXER-UPPER

If there was one thing I learned from my breakup, waiting for the pain to subside, it was that your environment is everything. During the spring semester, my floors had never sparkled more, my windows were never cleaner, and my garden was perfection itself.

Maybe it was because I stopped throwing parties. Stopped inviting people over at all.

Regardless, the Colo was barely an ice arena. We needed a makeover, bad. If Coach Vernon stood in the way of us hiring people, we’d find a solution.

Specifically, Cleo’s fiancé.

“I don’t remember the Colo looking so…?” Miles Locke hummed, taking it in. “What’s the word I’m searching for?”

“Rundown?” I suggested. “Dirty?”

“Frightening?” He offered one of his classic Miles smiles, one that said none of the troubles really mattered because we could handle it together.

Miles was such an easygoing guy, his presence instantly relaxed me.

Like, if we could joke about it, maybe the Colo wasn’t such a doom-and-gloom project after all.

We headed deeper into the arena while he typed a list for supplies as the team’s first real practice together came to an end. A tiny amount of progress, but progress nonetheless.

“June?” Miles stopped us. “Can I ask how you’re doing?”

“Oh, good.”

I realized Miles wasn’t asking to ask like so many other people did. He wasn’t like that. He arched a blond eyebrow in my direction, patiently waiting.

A flush crept up my neck. “Cleo talks to you, doesn’t she?”

“Yep. You guys are my reality TV.”

I knew he was trying to keep it light, but I didn’t want to worry him.

Whatever I told Miles would get back to Cleo and she and I had been friends for so long.

We were both Marrs legacies. Her family knew my family, and she took me under her wing when I stepped onto campus. I didn’t want to worry her.

“It’ll be fine at the end of the summer,” I promised. “This’ll be worth it.”

Montoya squeaked from the benches, “Miles Locke?!”

Some of the guys caught on that a wide receiver from the Texan Hounds dropped by. They left practice, coming closer to see.

“Hey, I’m Miles.” He grinned, shaking hands. “Cleo’s fiancé. We’re getting married at the end of the summer.”

“No, we’re not!” Cleo shouted, following us. “I don’t want Gladiators at my wedding!”

“Whoops. Forgot we got married this morning.”

Denali reached to shake Miles’s hand. “What are you doing here?”

“Summer training doesn’t start until July, so I have a new project.” He motioned to the arena. “I was told after practice, you’re free labor.”

The hockey players shifted together, confused. Bear frowned. “ We’re free labor? Like…we’re fixing the arena?”

“We’re doing what? ” Riley shoved past the crowd. “This is bullshit, I didn’t volunteer to paint some fucking walls?—”

Miles’s laugh boomed. “I’m not asking.”

Riley scowled. “Coach said we’re not allowed to spend?—”

“I’m also free labor,” Miles corrected him, amused.

Bear broke away from his teammates while they left for the locker room. Their introduction would come eventually, and Miles knew all about Xavier. I motioned towards Bear. “This is Bear Moreau. My roommate.”

Bear rolled his eyes. “You couldn’t have said something nicer?”

“What’s a better one?” I wondered. “This is Bear, the guy who flooded our dorm?”

“This is Bear,” Bear mocked. “The guy whose clothes I dropped makeup on, who puts up with me shedding like a cat, who lost his refrigerator because it’s full of?—”

“Keep it nice,” Miles warned. “That’s my family you’re talking to.”

My protector. I smirked while Bear rolled his eyes again. “Oh, great, another June fan,” he muttered, following the others to the locker room. “Just what we need.”

We had to see how extensive the Colo’s damage was and that meant diving into the equipment rooms, meeting rooms, and gyms, which were just as dystopian, if not worse.

“June!” Nick shouted. “I’ve got the Gladiators’ new catchphrase!”

“What is it?”

“If we don’t kill you on the ice, the black mold will!”

“ No .” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Please. We don’t have mold.”

“Maybe it’s not mold?” Montoya suggested. “It could be an art piece. Someone used a toothbrush and flicked paint?—”

The air was a chorus of ‘ Kid’s Toy, shut up!

’ and I sighed, passing the coach’s office.

This was the only hallway without cobwebs.

Even then, it wasn’t great. The nearest break room made me gag—whatever was in the broken-open fridge had long since expired—and the bin for papers to be shredded outside of his office was stuffed full.

It was one of the standard blue ones, they were in the professional offices around campus.

The actual part that housed the rest of the papers was locked and I’d never seen one so overfilled that papers poked out.

A company picked them up every Tuesday to shred offsite but clearly, the Colo hadn’t gotten that treatment in a while.

“We should burn this place for the insurance,” Bear muttered.

“What makes you think we have insurance?” I replied, pushing another door open. It was a maintenance closet and a big one at that. There were first aid kits and boxes up high, marked cleaning supplies. A bonus for the Colo. They’d discovered cleaning supplies, who knew?

Montoya’s voice echoed. “Fridge! I found the switch for the bathroom!”

Instantly, we were plunged into darkness.

The entire Colo’s lights went out.

Oh, shit.

I jerked back to the symphony of ‘Kid’s Toy!’

“Goddammit,” Bear swore. “This is exactly what we need—can’t see shit!”

The guys were yelling at each other, but the lights didn’t return. I fumbled for my phone, unable to really see anything. Not the maintenance closet, not the first aid kits, not the camera placed over the door…

“Camera…” I squinted at what I couldn’t see and slipped my phone back in my pocket.

Did the cameras work?

If they did, and for argument’s sake maybe they worked without power, could they see anything? A sudden thought blossomed in my brain, trying to think of exactly how I could use this darkness. This was a rare opportunity, how could I take advantage of it?

I lurched forward and hit something hard.

Bear stumbled back. “What are you doing?”

“Why are you leering?” I replied, stretching to touch the wall, using it to carefully walk down the hallway.

“Where are you going?”

“None of your business.”

I could hear Bear behind me. “June?”

“Stop following me.” I counted the doors until I came to the shredding bin, stuffed with papers. I tried Coach Vernon’s office, but my fingers traced the smooth metal of the keycard lock. My plan failed—I couldn’t break into their coach’s office. There was no way in.

Damn.

I touched the shredding bin, ready to find Montoya and help him get the power back. Smooth metal met my fingers, and I paused. The bin was locked but with a regular lock.

What was in there?

“What the hell are you doing?” Bear whispered, and I jumped.

“Don’t scare me. Go away.”

I needed a safety pin to pry the lock, and those were back at the dorm. Where could I find one? How many minutes did I have until the lights came on?

“First aid kit!” I realized and slammed into Bear again. “Would you get out of my way?!”

The Gladiators continued to argue down the hall, and I was running out of time. I grabbed the first aid kit from the maintenance room and dug through it, pulling out the gauze.

Bear tried to stop me, but I ducked under his arm. “ June. ”

“I can’t teach you how to play hockey,” I said, slipping the safety pin into the bin’s lock. “But we need to figure out a way to get rid of your coach.”

“You’re stealing his shit?”

“His papers? Yes.”

“What if he’s in his office and he comes out with a weapon or something?”

“What if he coaches you to the Olympics? Let’s keep going with the fantasies.”

“Shut up.” Bear was silent for a moment. “You know how to pick locks?”

“Uh-huh. My friend Kassie taught me.”

With a clicking sound, I pulled open the little door without thinking it through. A mountain of papers flooded the hallway. Shit! I didn’t think there were so many, and I didn’t have a way to carry them.

“Fuck,” Bear muttered and his footsteps followed, leaving me behind.

Whatever, fine. Bear could run to safety, I didn’t care. I hurried to stack the papers. If I could run to the maintenance closet, I could hide them in the mop bucket?—

His footsteps returned with a swishing sound and I glanced up, confused, before Bear brought down a huge trash bag, stuffing the papers inside. Reluctantly, I thanked him.

“I think I found the panel!” Miles shouted.

My heart thudded—I couldn’t tell them to hold off on the power, they’d have too many questions.

I didn’t want to implicate the others. Bear and I hurried to throw papers into the trash bag.

We were so close—almost done. I slammed the little door shut and touched the floor for remaining papers when I felt something else.

Bear’s fingers.

The lights of the Colo flickered on again, bright, painful, and fluorescent.

Bear was a lot closer than I thought.

His eyes were only five or six inches away. Closer than I’d ever been to him by far. Usually, we were so busy fighting, I didn’t get a chance to see his face.

His eyes were a warm, rich brown, nothing cold about them.

Which was such a contrast to his personality.

Bear was stony and unfeeling, he ignored his teammates’ offers to grab lunch and Montoya’s study sessions.

Mostly, Bear gamed in our dorm, alone. Always alone, always thinking that he was better than everybody else and nobody could compete with his favorite company—himself.

But his eyes…his eyes. His eyes made my chest feel just as warm as the color and my heart thudded in my chest. I couldn’t stand Bear, but I couldn’t say he wasn’t attractive.

“June!” Miles belted out. “King’s here!”

I broke away and tied the garbage bag in a knot, heading for the maintenance closet. Bear didn’t say anything, not even when I said he had to tell the Gladiators that the closet was off-limits. I’d pick up the trash bag tonight.

When I left the hallway, I put a hand to my chest, breathing deeply. Away from Bear and his cologne and his warm brown eyes.

Good.

After the last hookup disasters, I’d been celibate for too damn long. Maybe Xavier wasn’t a god in bed but at least he had the prerequisites down.

It’d been way too long since I had good sex.

Because if I didn’t know any better, I was checking out Bear.