Page 169 of Call the Shots
“What part?”
“The hugging.”
“Cuddling?”
“Uh-huh.” Bear buried his face in my breasts. “And thesetits.These are the greatest things ever invented. Let me suck on them for an hour and no pre-nup. Bleed me dry, I don’t care.”
I giggled, sleepy. “Is this like one of those pacts? If we don’t find anybody, we’ll go to Las Vegas, get Elvis to marry us?”
“Get plastered, married, fuck in Vegas, sounds beautiful.”
“Divorced by Monday,” I quipped. “A weekend to remember.”
“We won’t get divorced.”
I paused while Bear breathed slowly, his eyes half-mast in a drunken sex stupor. He looked so happy. Because he hadn’t gotten laid in months. That was it. I was imagining that wishful, dream-like sigh under his words.
“Bear?” I outlined his jaw, drawing my fingertips across his skin. “I know we’re joking around?—”
“I’m not joking, June.”
My heart skipped a beat.
We were joking. We had to be.
My feelings for Bear were compartmentalized in a box, locked tight. I cared about him so much more than I ever would’ve known when I signed up for the Gladiators but anything serious wouldn’t work. Did I say something that made him think…?
My eyes shot to the ceiling.No concha, stay calm.“I’m excited for this—this next step in your journey.”
“Huh?”
“Because you’ll go to Boston where you’ll start the rest of your life.” I tried to swallow past the knot in my throat. “And your mental block won’t matter anymore, and you’ll find a girl and?—”
I could feel his eyes on me. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m happy for you,” I lied and didn’t. I was happy for him, and I wasn’t.
“Why are you talking like you’re not part of my future?”
Don’t look at him, don’t look at him, don’t look at him.
“We’ll always be friends,” I said carefully. “You’re important to me. But—um—we’ve only known each other for the summer, and this is shared trauma and?—”
“What?” he asked, mystified.
“You were in a traumatic situation in North Dakota.”
“It wasn’t that bad?—”
“It was a breach of trust and I’m so sorry that happened, Bear,” I said gently. “You should be with someone who knows hockey, who isn’t connected to your family like I am, and—and I wouldn’t be healthy for you.”
“Healthy?” he echoed, his voice quiet.
My phone rang from my pile of clothes and we glanced towards it before turning back to each other. It was silent before Bear spoke.
“Can you let it go to voicemail? I want to talk. Because I care about you, June.”
“I care about you too, but your life is just beginning.” I whispered. “You don’t want it tied to the past.”
