Page 69 of Call the Shots (For The Arena #1)

BEAR

THE ORIGINS OF BEAR CUB

After practice, June usually took videos for social media, preferring to catch the team when we were too tired to say no. I used to be in that group, rolling my eyes when I saw her motioning to her phone.

Things changed. I hurried to throw on clothes, my hair still dripping from the shower, shoving my stuff in my bag to see June.

“You’re going to slip and crack your head open,” Fridge warned.

Ignoring him, I left the locker room to find her.

It was insane how different the Colo looked now that we had a real coach. Workers bringing in new equipment, people bustling around the arena, my coach’s booming voice nearby, talking with his assistant coaches after practice. The place was actually alive, thriving.

And there June was, waiting outside the locker room.

“Bear Moreau!” She smiled that breathtaking smile, her phone raised. “What are you most excited for with the upcoming season?”

“Kiss,” I said, cutting the distance between us.

“That’s not a real answer—” she giggled, stepping back when she realized I wasn’t slowing down. “I’m on the clock— Bear! ”

My fingers snaked around her throat, and I bent low to press my lips to her skin, inching up her neck. Her breaths were shallow, I could taste her heartbeat. I wanted to bite her, but I was already doing a number beneath her clothes, I had to take what I was given and be satisfied with it.

“Coach is coming,” she blurted out and we broke apart. Breathless, June asked him the same question while he strolled through the arena, his loud crew right behind him on their way to his office.

“The goal horn.” A lofty grin crossed his face. “Keep it professional, you two!”

“You heard him.” She swatted my hand when I tried to cup her ass. “Say something for the camera.”

Usually I gave a one-word answer and she had to coax something better out of me, but I hesitated. It was the first hockey season I wasn’t looking forward to because June wouldn’t be living on campus anymore. I didn’t know what to say.

“What’s the question?” Elijah demanded, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. He nodded along to June. “Easy answer, Bear’s pumped to be my defense partner?—”

I snorted. “Uh-huh.”

“And we’re ready to kick some ass. Fuck SHU! Fuck AJU! ETCU can gargle my balls?—”

“I can’t beep all of this out, Elijah." June rolled her eyes. "You’re making my job harder.”

I grabbed him by his shirt. “Make it easier.”

“Ugh.” Elijah rolled his eyes. “Good blocks and defensemen who aren’t afraid to get loose on the ice—great deking, I want to get shocked this season—overtime with quality goalies on both sides…and for WTU to suck dick with a little less teeth.”

Montoya beamed for the camera. “Having fun with my team!”

Nick chortled. “I’m excited to see who gets the first concussion—it’s Pickles. I don’t know how it’ll happen. Tripping on a bucket or something stupid.”

“Winning the Gulf Coast Cup,” Denali said. “Being the top dog in the TIHCC.”

“What I’m not looking forward to is our semester without our PR intern,” Cleo said, coming up with a purple bag. “It was supposed to be a surprise for your going-away party, but I want to make sure it fits…”

I took June’s phone to record and she awwed for the camera.

“This is where you say it’s a prank,” Elijah told June. “You’re not deserting us, and you’ll follow us on our path to victory.”

“Don’t pressure her,” I warned.

“My team-following days are behind me.” June took the bag from Cleo. “But you guys know I love you— oh —aww…”

June pulled out the purple jersey, Basil written on the back. She squeezed it to her chest. Montoya hugged her and he wasn’t the only one as the rest of the team left the locker room.

“What are you doing instead?” Nick asked.

“Law school.” June held up the jersey for Cleo to take pictures. “My pre-law counselor has a list for me to do. Personal essays, extra classes, internships—I’ll come to hockey games, but this is important to me.”

I ignored the twinge in my chest. “It’s important to you so it’s important to us. Nobody’s going to make you feel bad about it.”

“That’s right, Bear.” Elijah clapped me on the back. “Be strong. You can cry into your pillow later—” I smacked him upside the head, and he stumbled away. “ Ow—fuck! ”

“Try it on, June,” Cleo urged.

June slipped off my hoodie—a plain Gladiators hoodie but everybody knew who it belonged to. It rode up her shirt, revealing a couple of inches of skin.

Montoya’s mouth fell open. “ What’s that?! ”

Oh, shit.

“Montoya!” I barked. “Don’t worry about it?—”

He ducked low and must've seen a new angle of the collection of hickeys on her hip because his hands flew to his mouth in shock.

“I know what that is!” Nick pointed as more hockey players swarmed. “That’s what you see on a Grey’s Anatomy guest star and they’re dead before the end of the episode!”

Montoya dry-heaved into the trash while June threw on the jersey, exasperated. “They’re hickeys! And bite marks! Relax! I’m fine!”

Silence fell over the team and suddenly, I had disgusted looks trained on me.

“Bear.” Fridge shook his head. “Truly, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“No wonder June’s leaving,” Elijah said indignantly. “Bear’s biting the fuck out of her!”

“Why would anyone even put their mouth in that area? It doesn’t make sense!” Montoya said a little too loudly.

I groaned and put down the phone. It was bad enough hearing it, we didn’t need the evidence.

Montoya burned bright red. “No, I don’t mean the—the lady seashell, I meant the other part?—”

“One day, a volcano will need you, Kid’s Toy.” Elijah sighed. “You’ll be our virgin sacrifice.”

Fridge’s advice helped me through the summer, and I planned to adhere to his ‘apologize’ rule. King was June’s best friend, and what I did to him in my jealous stupidity wasn’t cool. I wanted to say I was sorry for real. I tried to hit him up via text…

me

hey king this is bear can we grab a beer i want to talk

King junes best friend

I dont know a bear sorry you have the wrong number

Texting him didn’t work so June scheduled dinner for King, Willow, her, and me. I needed June to see I was mature enough to apologize. I just wasn’t prepared for King to have no idea what I was talking about.

“Someone was locked in a storage closet?” he asked, confused.

“No, I locked you in a storage closet.”

“You did that to who?”

“To you! ” I stopped myself, focusing on calming down while Willow giggled into her drink. “I’m apologizing. I’m sorry—it was stupid, petty bullshit?—”

“You’re thinking of somebody else.”

“You’re the only one I’d do that to! Okay, look, I used to printout fake tickets and put them on your truck when we worked at the Colo?—”

“I went there—I don’t know—twice?—”

“You worked at the Colo for like thirty shifts, dude!” I stared at King incredulously while he shrugged at Willow, unperturbed.

June patted my hand. “Apology accepted!”

Willow snorted. “Oh my god, Tattoos.”

I had to down another beer before I could laugh about it with the girls. The apology didn’t go according to plan, but I did apologize and that was a win. Because boyfriends apologize.

June and I weren’t officially dating yet, but we were exclusive friends with benefits who were each other’s emergency contacts on our medical forms. We had a running streak on Vanysh, and our okapis on Zoo Cultivation IV had their first calf together.

Basically, we were dating. I just couldn’t call her my girlfriend to her face or she'd get upset with me.

“King talked about your siblings…” Willow looked at June. “Are you really named after months?”

“Mm-hmm. There’s Augustus, May, April, Julius, me, December—but I promise, Bear’s name story is way better than mine.”

Everyone turned to me, but I frowned. “Name story?”

“Why you’re named Bear?”

“Uh…I’m named Bear because my mom liked animals.”

June’s smile faltered. “The—um—documentary?”

“Documentary?”

“When they interviewed your mom?”

I had no idea what she was talking about. My mom was a Canadian park warden and that meant issuing fire safety warnings, nothing filmworthy. I wracked my brain, thinking if my Aunt Holly ever mentioned it. No, nobody had.

“It’s this—um—documentary on Canadian wildlife.

Your mom was on maternity leave, but she came in anyway.

” June swallowed, silent for a moment. “They wanted you as the production baby in the end credits. She didn’t know what to name you and the director joked that if she didn’t come up with a name, they’d call you Bear Cub. ”

“Oh.”

“You didn’t…?”

“No. Nobody told me.”

“Oh.” She gazed at me before taking a quick drink of her lemonade. “I guess your mom thought it was like…written in the stars or something, and she named you Bear.”

How did June know about this? My mom wasn’t something we discussed at my dad’s house, he always motioned questions away. Did he talk about her with June?

Willow and King started discussing some music thing, and June excused herself for another lemonade. I watched her leave before following her to the bar.

“Hey?” I said, my voice soft, and June flinched.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t know you didn’t know.”

“No, it’s fine. Do you want to get dessert?” I placed a hand at the small of her back, but she shied away from the touch. I drew my hand away.

“I wanted to know more about your mom because I was so close to your family, I loved your dad’s big, romantic story,” June said suddenly. “About how he wasn’t prepared to be a father, but he took you in and…”

“And…he told you about the documentary?”

“No.” Her big green eyes flickered to me. “The lawyer who oversaw your custody paperwork did.”

“Oh.”

“You never came to those lunches. I was so angry with you because I was doing this work to learn more about your mom and you weren’t there?—”

“Hockey took up my time, I missed out?—”

“No, Bear. No .”

“It’s why Xavier and I aren’t…you know…close.” I hesitated. “I’m trying to repair that with my dad?—”

“You were a kid,” she interrupted. “You not knowing about these things isn’t because of anything you did.

That’s not your fault, that wasn’t your responsibility—” June sucked in a breath, her eyes darting to the bar.

“You didn’t know how to do laundry, you didn’t know how to cook, because you didn’t have a consistent home to stay in?—”

“I had hockey and the wrong priorities?—”

“That’s not— no, Bear?—”

Surprised, I wrapped my arms around her. “You’re freaking out, baby.”

She pressed her face to my chest, silent.

“Protective June is hot.” I grinned, reaching down to tilt her face to me. “I’m bridging the gap with my dad, don’t worry. It’ll just take time.”

I kissed her but June stiffened, pressing her lips firmly against mine before she broke away. What the hell was that? That was the most innocent, wholesome kiss I’d ever experienced with her. No tongue action to speak of.

June hugged me tight in the kind of quick, embarrassed hug you get from relatives, before untangling from me.

I didn’t know what to make of it. I just knew I didn’t like it.