Page 48 of Call the Shots (For The Arena #1)

BEAR

CLICK

The Gladiators made it through two rounds of ping pong before we got our asses kicked by the Cliterature Club.

My teammates took shots with the rest of the competitors, singing off-tune Joan Jett on the karaoke machines while I found myself at the bar surrounded by fifteen ladies with AARP cards and sympathetic faces as I spilled my guts.

The door opened, and a newcomer strolled through. The cigar smoker pointed at me. “ Rhonda! He likes this girl, he’s in a crisis, she’s his brother’s former beau?—”

“They’re living together,” another woman added.

“They used to be mortal enemies!”

I slipped out my phone and the line of ladies groaned.

“Bear, don’t do it.”

“You told yourself fifteen minutes! We have a timer!”

I couldn’t help myself. I checked my story again. Goddamn, nothing . I put my head in my hands. “Why is this happening to me? It feels like I’m going to vomit up my kidneys.”

“Young love.” The cigar smoker patted my back. “It’s fucking miserable.”

“Can you tie a cherry stem with your tongue?” Rhonda wondered, dragging over a chair. “Swore I’d never talk to my ex again, she sent me that, we’ve been together six years in July.”

“What if I call her and pretend I didn’t mean to?”

Half of them shut down my idea, the other half agreed, which was just as confusing. The bartender slid me over another orange juice and patted my hand, which was happening a lot. I felt like the stray dog they let into the bar.

“Bear!” Fridge called over the karaoke mic. “Forty minutes to midnight! If you want to see June, you have to call now!”

Damn, I thought he’d be too drunk to notice. That meant only ten minutes to see June, assuming she was still in downtown Austin. My phone went to my ear, and I paced like I wanted to wear holes into the ground. Every ring was slower than the last.

Please, June. Answer.

At long last, the call went through. I raked a hand through my hair, all too aware of the audience I’d accumulated. “Hey, June. It’s Bear—” Duh, she has caller ID . “Bear from the Gladiators—” She knows who you are. “I was calling because I—uh—I was wondering if—I?—”

“Bear?”

The soft, balled-up way she whispered my name made me pause. “June? Are you drunk?”

“Mm-hmm.”

As insane as it was, a small smile crossed my face. “Having a good time?”

“Um…no?”

“Why not?”

“Bear…I’m sad.”

I rested my elbows on the half-wall separating the restaurant from the bar itself. “Why are you sad?”

“Um…King and I are ending the fake relationship thing, which is good but I’m, like, thinking…I shouldn’t have started it again—and I want him to be happy so…if it’s done then what am I doing here?”

I hesitated. “You were excited to hang out with your friends?”

“We live at RV together. I could’ve been hanging out with my friends. They’ve texted me all summer, but I wanted to be the Before June…” Her voice trembled. “I—I feel like I’m the wrong version of me. Like I could disappear and nothing would change.”

My chest tightened. “Do you want me to pick you up?”

“You’re in Houston.”

“No, I’m in Round Rock. Do you want me to take you home?”

June sniffled. “Yeah.”

I’d never talked that softly to an adult, ever. It was the voice I used for my baby cousins, the one that said it’s okay, you’re safe with me . I wanted to be softer for her, I wanted to be gentler for her.

“I want a back rub,” she mumbled, wasted.

“You can have an hour of back rubs. Of course you get a back rub.”

“Promise?”

I jingled my keys for Fridge to see. With a nod to the line of ladies at the bar, I confirmed everything was good. “I’ll get you in comfy pajamas?—”

“Comfy pajamas?”

“The pink and yellow ones with the long sleeves.”

“I love those.”

“I know you love those,” I said quietly. “I’ll get you hydrated, and you’ll get all the back rubs. I promise.”

“I want to cuddle.”

My heart skipped a beat. “We can cuddle.”

“All night?”

“All night. I’ll be there in thirty?—”

“Bear?”

“Yeah?”

“My phone’s at two percent.”

I stalled by the photo booth. “Where are you?”

“I don’t know where I am.”

Six words sent a sliver of ice through my blood. The warm fuzziness disappeared until I could only feel the ice, creeping up my spine. I stared at the door. “Who’s with you?”

“I was hanging out with my friends, but I left for another drink…I don’t know these people.”

“June—you need to find out where you are.”

“I—I didn’t mean to get this drunk?—”

“No concha, June.” My words strained as panic wrapped a hand around my throat. “Ask anybody?—”

“Do you know where we are?” I could hear June ask. Muffled voices answered. “They don’t know, Bear?—”

“Ask a bouncer! Ask a bartender!” I debated telling her to turn on her location but what if that drained her battery? She had to be at one percent now. “June, find somebody!”

A new voice cut through, clipped and irritated. “You need to pick up your girlfriend. She’s trashed.”

“Tell me where she is, I’ll be there!”

“Are you in downtown Austin?”

“Just tell me where she is!”

“We’re at?—”

With a click, the call ended, and I redialed June without thinking. I listened with horror as it immediately went to voicemail.

“Fuck,” I whispered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck ? — ”

I couldn’t believe the call ended, and I didn’t know where June was. She was drunk, she was lost, she was alone, and I had no idea how to get to her.

Harsh breaths tore out of me. “Montoya! MONTOYA! ”