Page 37 of Call the Shots
June peered at me, her green eyes contemplative. “Denali, would it be more work?”
“Uh-huh.”
“It’d keep someone out of their dorm?”
“Yeah.”
“Well…” She hummed, her fingers tapping her chin. “I’ve always thought of Bear as alternate captain material.”
Her words flew by from how tired I was, and it took a couple of seconds to realize she was talking aboutme. My eyes widened. “Huh?”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Fridge admitted.
“Yeah, it’s a terrible idea,” I interjected. “I don’t want to be an alternate captain. I don’t want the A on my gear.”
“Are you being modest, Bear?” Montoya asked.
“No! I don’t want to do it!”
“If I have a vote, he has mine,” June assured us solemnly, raising her hand. “It’ll keep him busy for sure.”
“I don’t want—” I jerked back. “Fridge, put your hand down.”
“My vote too!” Elijah’s hand shot to the air. “Because I know it’ll piss Bear off!”
Immediately, the rest of the hands shot up.
“You’re fucking kidding me.” I gazed around the hallway of backstabbers and traitors. “There’s no fucking way I’m doing this, I wouldn’t captain these dipshits with a revolver to my?—”
“Start clapping,” Denali told everyone. “Congratulations, Bear!”
The only one who looked genuinely excited for me was Montoya, everyone else hollered and applauded wildly, ignoring my scowl. Bunch of assholes.
I didn’t realize June stood next to me until I heard her above the cheers. “It’ll be good for you.”
“Like an ice pick to my brain,” I muttered and flipped her off when I saw her smug smile.
CHAPTER 15
JUNE
POST-APOCALYPTIC FIXER-UPPER
If there wasone thing I learned from my breakup, waiting for the pain to subside, it was that your environment is everything. During the spring semester, my floors had never sparkled more, my windows were never cleaner, and my garden was perfection itself.
Maybe it was because I stopped throwing parties. Stopped inviting people over at all.
Regardless, the Colo was barely an ice arena. We needed a makeover,bad.If Coach Vernon stood in the way of us hiring people, we’d find a solution.
Specifically, Cleo’s fiancé.
“I don’t remember the Colo looking so…?” Miles Locke hummed, taking it in. “What’s the word I’m searching for?”
“Rundown?” I suggested. “Dirty?”
“Frightening?” He offered one of his classic Miles smiles, one that said none of the troubles really mattered because we could handle it together. Miles was such an easygoing guy, his presence instantly relaxed me. Like, if we could joke about it, maybe the Colo wasn’t such a doom-and-gloom project after all.
We headed deeper into the arena while he typed a list for supplies as the team’s first real practice together came to an end. A tiny amount of progress, but progress nonetheless.
