Page 5 of Call the Shots (For The Arena #1)

JUNE

UNINVITED MEASURING TAPE GUESTS

It was time to say goodbye to my sanctuary.

With my hair wrapped in a towel and a bathrobe tied around my waist, I packed treasured items for the storage unit. There went my Romans jerseys, my thick photo albums. The tickets I saved from every football game…

A knock echoed from the front door, and I sniffled, trudging to it. King wasn’t supposed to come for another hour, but I was glad he decided to show up early. Brushing away the tears, I pulled the door open.

“June Basil?”

Five guys stood in neon jackets, and I blinked in surprise. “Um…yes?”

They shoved past and one of them whistled. “I see why they’re repossessing.”

“Hey!” I whirled back, stunned. “What are you?—?”

“We’re here to take measurements.”

“I haven’t moved yet. They gave me four days!”

Another held up his measuring tape. “Look, lady, we were paid extra to come early.”

“Fucking Xavier,” I swore. “I can’t even grieve my house.”

He shrugged. “Well, you pissed him off. Now he gets your house.”

I bristled, but their paperwork confirmed it. I couldn’t do anything about my uninvited guests. All I could do was get dressed and shove my stuff in boxes, angrier and angrier every time they tossed my furniture around. Xavier just had to dig the knife in.

What a bitch.

Revenge plots swirled behind my eyes, but none seemed big enough. I wanted something huge. I wanted to hurt him. Deeply, psychologically, spiritually hurt him, but without provoking the ire of my parents, and keeping it quiet.

How was I supposed to do that?

“June?” a voice called from the entry.

I hurried to King and wrapped my arms around him, squeezing him into a hug. “You didn’t bring Jasmine for me?”

King chuckled, hugging me back. His little sister was in first grade and cute as a button. “Her summer break doesn’t start ’til June, she’s still in school.”

“Ugh. Poor Jazz.”

At six-foot-three, he stood high over me, almost three hundred pounds of muscle.

Tattoos and scars covered his body. A man known for being silent on campus, King chose not to speak to most people he didn’t know personally.

To strangers, I was sure he looked intimidating, but he was the sweetest guy I’d ever met.

Thoughtful and kind, King was my best friend. We had plans to become godparents to each other’s kids, and I knew whatever football team he was drafted to, I’d hang up the banners in my house.

He nodded towards the movers, asking the question I didn’t have to hear because we understood each other like that.

“Xavier,” I sighed, heading outside. King followed, and we hung by the windows, listening to the guys joke about how pissed someone had to be to do this to me.

“June…” King said, sending a knowing look my way.

“Nope.” I shook my head. “No one touches Xavier.”

I’d never jeopardize King’s football career. Ever. Especially for something as dumb as getting back at my ex.

“Xavier’s my problem,” I insisted. “I’ll handle it.”

Something shattered inside. Muttering under my breath, I left for my garden.

My pride and joy. They weren’t just pretty flowers.

I specifically grew indigenous Texan plants for a pocket prairie, so birds, lizards, and butterflies flocked to my garden.

Every morning after my parties, I’d dig in the soil.

I loved it. It was a great cure for a hangover.

Being out there always made me feel real again.

I slipped on my gloves as King sat on the bench.

“Thanks for coming,” I whispered.

He mussed up my hair, quiet, his mind elsewhere.

With a sly glance his way, I dug up one of my small esperanza bushes for the move, careful of the roots. “Tell me about the angel again.”

A flush crept up King’s neck, which was so funny. I’d seen him throw down football players and tackle people bigger than him like it was no big deal, but mentioning the girl he was texting had him blushing hard.

“She’s so pretty.”

“Uh-huh?”

“I called yesterday and started rambling about Houston traffic.” He groaned. “She told me it’s okay to be nervous, how embarrassing is that?”

“ Awww .”

He grunted, exasperated. “I can’t talk to her like a normal person.”

“Disgustingly sweet,” I teased. Something crashed from inside the house, and I ignored it, nudging King with my trowel. “Keep talking. I want to hear everything.”

King told me the adorable details until my phone rang from my back pocket. My mom. It was just one of those days when everything wanted to come at me. I loved her, but I didn’t want to hear about the endless brunches and lunches to be checked off for Dad’s campaign—hopefully, his last.

Good thing I had the perfect distraction.

“Hey, Mama,” I cooed into the phone. “Guess what? Your favorite person’s sitting in my garden.”

She sucked in a breath. “ King? ”

He snorted and held out a hand, gracefully taking the phone, even if it meant he’d just grunt along to my mom endlessly talking.

For more than two years, King and I had been in a fake relationship, putting on a show as one of the biggest couples at Marrs University.

When I originally created the idea with Cleo, I had another football player in mind because we were already friends.

But he said no, and I figured—well, that’s that.

Instead, Cleo came up with King.

The idea was simple. It’d look great for my dad’s election cycle. We’d get to cement ourselves as important people on campus. And I’d get to work directly with one of the biggest football teams in the nation, one my family proudly supported. We thought it’d last three months, max.

Except we kind of went viral.

The longer the relationship went on, the bigger the opportunities and paid promotions became. There were government dinners to attend, business lunches, Houston ribbons to cut, and he became my best friend.

The one I whispered to over schnapps on the rooftops at parties, the one who held my hand when I had my pregnancy scare last year. His mom was like a second mom to me, his little sister was one of my favorite people in the world, and my family adored the strong, silent, and incredibly loyal man.

Xavier had liked the gifts, money, and donations to our organizations that the fake relationship provided, but he’d been ready for it to be done with.

But when the fake relationship was almost done, King had a hiccup from his past, and we decided to keep the charade going for another year. I just couldn’t abandon King.

I watched him while he listened intently to my mom. King was the steady rock I never knew I needed. I had no idea what I’d do without him.