Page 163 of Call the Shots
“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.”
CHAPTER 62
JUNE
PROPERTY OF JUNE BASIL
When we returned to RV,Bear passed out on the couch in the lounge and I tucked him in with one of his blankets. Most of the Gladiators dragged out their mattresses until the lounge was full of twenty snoring college boys, limbs over limbs, elbows in faces.
And me?
I woke up in the morning, giddy with excitement. Bear wanted sex, no doubt about it. When he was coherent enough, I planned to make him sweat out his hangover. Whistling, I cooked chocolate chip pancakes, piling a plate high with them.
I made a separate, non-chocolate pancake for myself, but I dumped it on the pile. Someone else could have it. Syrup was out of the question, but Iwouldhave a chocolate chip pancake. I stuck a piece in my mouth, letting the rich chocolate seep over my tongue.
