Page 61 of Call the Shots (For The Arena #1)

BEAR

SHE’S MY TOY

It didn’t make any sense. I thought about June more than I breathed air, and I had to tell her, but by the time we made it to Gianna’s, I was a wreck. The words themselves I had ready and prepared. It was the whole talking about my feelings without fucking up that tripped me.

The rooftop was busy, and we surrounded a couple of tables, grabbing shots from whoever brought them from the bar. I downed two immediately. I needed to loosen up, then tell June.

Fool-proof plan.

The guys and I exchanged socials and made sure we had each other’s numbers.

I couldn’t believe I wouldn’t get to shoot pucks with them.

Montoya and I snapped a bunch of pictures and took group shots.

We were happy to finally have our checks—hell, I was when I paid off my credit card—but I pictured partying after we won games, not before we separated for good.

“If you pretend like you don’t know me after this, I’ll punch you in the face,” Nick warned, sliding a shot my way.

“Only if you hit up another girl I’m with.”

Nick hesitated. “Sorry, Bear.”

“Huh?”

“I knew Paisley was your girlfriend. I hit her up to be an asshole. I’m sorry.”

We awkwardly looked away, I didn’t expect him to apologize. I was pretty sure he wasn’t expecting to apologize either. Shit, I didn’t know what to say.

“Boys are so dumb,” June giggled. “Say you love each other and keep going.”

I cleared my throat. “Thanks, Nick.”

Nick downed another drink. “Yep.”

The whole evening was like that. We were coming to the realization that this was our goodbye. Montoya hugged June for so long, I had to wait to dance with her.

“I thought you’d never ask, Forty,” she teased.

There wasn’t really a dance floor on the rooftop, just a place closest to the speakers, but it didn’t bother June. It didn’t bother me either but maybe that was the Tequila.

“I love when you call me Forty,” I confessed. “I pretend like it pisses me off.”

“You know I can’t hear anything you say, right?” she teased loudly over the music.

“I’m in love with you.”

“You’re still mumbling!”

“Dance with me!” I shouted. “Keep dancing with me!”

Blood pounded in my ears with the music to keep up with June.

She led the way, and I was so happy to follow, engrossed in her.

I couldn’t stop touching her. The small of her back, her hips, anywhere my hands could conveniently fall, I smoothed down the dress to melt against her skin.

I needed to memorize every dip, every curve.

“I don’t want to go!” burst out of me.

The music quieted a little into the next track and I could clearly hear June’s soft reply. “I don’t want you to go either.”

Pickles reached between us, offering a nervous smile. “Could I cut in?—?”

“What the hell? ” I grabbed the back of his shirt, yanking him away from her. “How the fuck did you think this would go, Pickles?”

“Hey, hey, hey,” June interjected, pulling my hand off him and resting it on her waist again.

I watched Pickles’s sweaty face return to a group of howling Gladiators at the bar. Those dipshits paid him to do it. Before I could stalk over, June wrapped her arms around my neck, forcing my attention on her.

“Look at me,” she said over the music. “We’re having fun.”

I gazed down and started swaying to the music again, the angry, drunk thoughts replaced with pleased, drunk ones, like happy bees buzzing in my head. I pulled her closer. “Uh-huh.”

“Don’t worry about them. They’re being stupid.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You don’t need to punch somebody because you’re dancing with me.”

I hung my head over her, smiling. “Uh-huh.”

If anybody asked me who walked over, I couldn’t tell them.

I was full of booze and good music and dancing with the one girl who made my pulse race, not much could fuck with that.

The next song had a bass that vibrated the floor, and I tugged June around until her back met my chest to dance with her.

Or grind against her. Either way, I could feel her breathing become unsteady.

The curve of her ass was doing things to me. My cock bulged against the zipper, such a great fucking feeling.

I languished in that, wrapping my hand around her throat?—

“No, no! ” Fridge called from the tables with Tallulah. “Bear, let go!”

“He’s fine,” June breathed out and I chuckled, nuzzling my cheek against her.

“No, he’s not, he’s drunk, he’s the size of a gorilla, he’s pummeled most of the guys on this team— Bear! ”

I grunted, shifting her from his eyesight.

“Don’t turn away from me, let go of her neck!”

I threw him an irritated look. “Shut up, Fridge.”

“She’s not a toy!”

“She’s my toy,” I retorted.

June’s heartbeat quickened and I traced my fingertips along her throat. I could feel every time she swallowed. But when Fridge stood up, threatening to peel me off her, June slipped out of my grasp, her cheeks flushed.

“You’re too drunk.”

I struggled to take a breath, my vision hazy. “I need to tell you how I feel.”

“Let’s get you some water.”

“June, we need to—I—” I paused. Shit . I had everything planned but what did I want to say?

June led me to the bar, and I stumbled behind her, way too fucking loaded. Was I…too drunk? No. Was I? The world was tilting a lot more than it usually did, which was not at all.

Oh, shit. Oh no. I fucked up.

“Moosefucker,” Elijah hissed, strangely sober. He got in my space and suddenly there were three Elijahs, staring at me incredulously. “After everything I’ve done to shove you two together—make a real move! What’s wrong with you?”

“Huh?”

“Make a move on June!”

My eyes darted to her at the bar, grabbing a water bottle from the bartender, up on her tiptoes, her dress riding up to expose the back of her knees. Wow, those were the sexiest back of knees I’d ever seen.

Clarity came to me. “I think I’m blacking out.”

He groaned. “Alright. Fine. Go big or go home, we don’t have the time for anything subtle.” Elijah grabbed my jaw and inspected my face, his eyebrows knitted in concentration. “You’re really blacking out?”

“Uh-huh,” I mumbled, unsteady.

“Good. You’ll need to because you’ll kill me when you see this.” He chuckled. “Don’t worry, man. I got you.”