Page 79 of Call the Shots (For The Arena #1)
BEAR
THE GOODBYE PARTY
I thought running hockey practice was hard but party planning was goddamn difficult. It would’ve sent a lesser man to male-patterned baldness.
Two of the speakers caught fire from overloaded extension cords, Montoya dropped the dip Fridge spent two days working on, of course, right on the carpet. Buttons accidentally hit a Marrs Student Housing sign with his car, and it sailed through the air, cracking a neighbor’s window.
I was losing my patience, especially with Nick in charge of the pizza order.
“Pause it!” I barked. “I haven’t figured out who can eat what!”
“Everybody likes pizza.”
“I don’t know if we have vegetarians or whatever.”
“Are you kidding? Tell them to eat the grass outside.”
“Asshole,” I muttered. It wasn’t just the team arriving tonight, we had friends and girlfriends coming too. What if someone was allergic to something? A medical emergency was the last thing the party needed.
I breathed out in relief when Cleo and Miles strode through. “Mom! Do you know everybody’s food preferences and shit?”
“Dietary restrictions?” Cleo arched an eyebrow. “I know everyone’s—oh—except Willow’s.”
“Fuck, thank you—can you help Nick?”
“Whatever you need,” Miles assured me. “We’re here for an hour.”
“You’re not staying for the party?”
“Coach’s dinner tonight, we can’t.” Miles gave me a side hug. “Good to see you, man. We’re happy for you.”
Damn. They were supposed to be the adult supervision.
I shook off the disappointment. We had the house for twenty-four hours. Whatever happened, this would be the best party ever, because I had something important to talk about with June. Everything had to be perfect for that .
I whipped out my phone to call Willow—until I spotted the note June left on her contact. They were doing some kind of car swap today and I wasn’t supposed to mention it. I didn’t want to risk spoiling the surprise.
“Call…Elijah?” I muttered under my breath. No, why would I call her fake boyfriend when I could call her real one? I clicked King’s number, shaking my head. “This shit is so confusing.”
Montoya sidestepped a couple of guys bringing in a table. “Uh, Bear?”
“Hold on, Montoya.” I held up a finger, waiting for the call to go through. “Hey, King?”
“Bear?”
“No, it’s Bear—” I stopped myself from correcting him. “Holy shit. You said my name.”
He grunted, confused.
“You said my name . Like my real name!” An incredulous grin crossed my face. “This is great. I’ve never tried getting, you know, close to a girlfriend’s friends before. This is new to me.”
“You’re dating June?”
The smile fell off my face. Oh, fuck it. A win is a win. “Yeah, never mind. What’s Willow’s dietary stuff?” I nodded along and said goodbye, turning Nick’s way. “Willow can’t eat seafood!”
“What kind of pizza do you think I’m ordering?” Nick demanded. “Oh, no lobster on her pizza? No caviar? What’s next? She can’t have roasted panda?”
I rolled my eyes and put my focus on Montoya. “What’s going on?”
“I—uh—” Montoya hesitated. “I—I think I messed up.”
“Messed up? What do you mean?”
For long seconds, Montoya fidgeted with his sleeves, his eyes on the ground. I didn’t understand what the big problem was. There'd been fifty medium-sized problems already. I sighed. “I know you dropped the dip, it happens?—”
“No, I—uh?—”
“Bear!” Charlie shouted from outside. “You said to put the flowers in a vase, right? The ones in the yard?”
“No, I said I’d pick up flowers!” I yelled back. “Those don’t belong, they’re non-indi—” I fumbled with the word. “They’re non-indige— fuck ? — ”
Laki frowned. “Are you trying to say indignantly?”
“No, I’m trying to say—what’s the other word for native?”
“Who’s native?” Buttons poked his head out of the kitchen. “Tallulah, she’s Cherokee and Navajo.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about!” I snapped.
Tallulah walked in. “Did somebody call for me?”
“Tallulah, you write articles, you know words!” I pointed at her. “The flowers outside are not supposed to grow here, they’re non-indig—indage?—”
“Non-indigenous?”
“Thank you! Everybody else, you all failed, pick up a fucking dictionary!” I strode over to the screen door. “June cusses at those flowers! They don't naturally grow here, we need to rip them out!”
“But they look nice!”
“Charlie, that empty place in your skull covered in cobwebs? That’s where your brain is supposed to go—don’t piss me off. If you put those flowers in a vase, I’ll beat you with it. I swear, I’ll make your caved-in head the new decoration!” I focused on Montoya again. “What’s up?”
“Um…”
“Montoya, I'm not trying to be a dick, but I don't have all day.”
“You know how…” He shifted uncomfortably. “Willow and Elijah and King…”
“Yeah? What about it?”
He swallowed. “I…accidentally…told Sloane about tonight.”
“Oh, dude, she already knows about the party—she’s coming with Sully. My advice? Don't worry about their drama bullshit, just nod and smile, it doesn't concern us.” I directed him to the driveway. “Help me bring in beer. We’ve got to get the party ready.”
There were flower decorations, a big ‘ Goodbye June ’ cake, and pictures we hung up from the summer, most of which June took herself. We waited with anticipation, counting down the minutes. The party didn’t start until she arrived with King, Willow, and Elijah.
When June walked through the door, my pulse kicked up a notch. June was just so…pretty. Sparkling green eyes and a gorgeous smile when the team went wild at her appearance, ushering her into the party. Her baseball cap caught my eye—my Boston Bulldogs hat.
Oh, I’m in love.
I went to the kitchen to grab one of her drinks—non-alcoholic, nothing on the front-facing can about calories, carbonated because she liked the bubbles—and listened to the guys chide her for wearing a hoodie instead of her Gladiators jersey.
“No, I’m wearing my jersey,” she laughed.
I pushed through the crowd to bring her drink and stumbled to a stop when June pulled her hoodie over her head. That wasn’t purple—it was maroon. The guys squawked like birds when they saw but I stared, frozen to the floor.
It was a Boston Bulldogs jersey.
June flipped around to show off the back— Moreau with an empty place for the number.
“Custom-made.” She beamed at me. “I didn’t know what number to put so I just asked them to leave it blank until you know what your official one is.”
My teammates shoved my shoulders, demanding a reaction, but I couldn’t say anything. Electric shocks rushed through my brain, leaving everything really quiet inside. Nobody had ever done anything like that for me before. Nothing close.
“Say something.” Nick poked me with his empty beer can. “ Say anything. ”
I was a puddle on the floor, what was I supposed to say?
“My baby,” June murmured, reaching up to cup my jaw.
I didn’t make the decision—I wasn’t making the decisions—I cut the distance between us, taking June’s face in my hands to kiss her hard, snaking an arm around her waist, grabbing whatever I could while June gasped in surprise.
I must’ve dropped the drink, it sprayed everywhere when it hit the floor.
“No, no, no—” Denali grabbed me by the shirt and hauled me back. “It’s a hockey party, not a Bear and June party!”
June sucked in breaths, laughing. “I’m glad you like it.”
“We’re going out with a bang!” Nick held up the hockey puck I spraypainted gold. “Beer pong competition, winner gets the golden puck!”
“Not drinking but I’ll ref,” June promised, still breathless.
It was just a jersey to her, but it meant everything to me. I got her another drink and found her being pulled from group to group, taking pictures with everybody, in my jersey.
I was overwhelmed. June was…dazzling. It really was like knowing a celebrity at a party. When she was ready to ref for the beer pong tournament, I sat on the couch’s arm and pulled her to my lap, resting my cheek against her neck.
“You’re so quiet, Forty,” she whispered. “You okay?”
I nodded, eyes closed. “Uh-huh.”
“Need a minute?”
“Yeah. I wasn’t expecting…” I kissed her neck. “I love you.”
“Love you too. The party’s flawless.” She stroked my hair before snapping her fingers at Laki when he went out of bounds for beer pong. “Take your walk of shame!”
“Whatever!” Laki threw his hands up. “I still look good as fuck, I don’t care!”
The guys pushed me to play beer pong but I didn’t want to. June was in my lap, right where she was supposed to be. I slipped my fingers under her jeans, rubbing the outline of a bite mark on her hip, holding her close.
We had to talk about something serious tonight. I listened to her laugh, thinking about how to broach the topic. We needed a quiet place, and I needed to take my time to say what I needed to. I wouldn’t mess this up.
“Elijah, you’re out of here! ” June giggled and I glanced up in surprise to see him leaving the beer pong tournament.
Huh.
Elijah won most of the ping pong games in RV’s lobby, or at least he hit the playoffs. I never saw him lose a game so early. I almost asked him what was up, but Sully’s voice broke in, directed at June. “What about part-time with the hockey team? Saturday mornings?”
“We’re not pressuring her,” I reminded him,
“I’ll be there for home games,” she promised.
The tournament ended with Denali winning and Elijah called everyone for another drinking game. I knew June wouldn’t join in, I couldn’t ask for a better exit.
I was careful to keep my voice low. “Do you want to go somewhere quieter?”
“I haven’t given you the private tour,” she said, instantly catching on.