Page 17 of Call the Shots
I rubbed my temple, trying to mentally block out the headache pounding behind my eyelids. I had to be on campus for my classes and to repair the damage I brought upon…everybody. And myself. If I pushed for other housing, Xavier could catch that I found a loophole with the hockey team. What if he locked me out of campus housing for good?
“There’s nothing else?” I asked, my voice small.
“I’m so sorry, June.”
My stomach sank. My next call could’ve been to my parents but what could I say? Back in high school, I disappointed them when I let everything slip off its axis. I wouldn’t let that happen again.
I let the bitterness wash over me before I pushed past Bear.
“Where are you going?”
“Our dorm.” I pushed the door open again. “It’s okay, Cleo,” I whispered. “Thank you.”
I gazed around the man cave. Laundry on the floor, dishes piled high in the sink, on the counters and on the stove. The place was perfumed with the sharp smell of what had to be a broken bottle of dude’s cologne.
The door shoved open. “We’re not living together.”
“Bear, I’ve accepted the death sentence. You should too.”
His dorm—ourdorm—opened to a kitchen and the living room, with separate rooms to the left and the right. Two bedrooms. I stalled between them. “Which one’s yours?”
“There’s nothing that redhead can do?” he said, voice flat.
“If there was, I wouldn’t be here.”
His sigh stretched. “My bed’s to the right.”
Which meant the left was mine. I found what I should’ve expected. A couple of chairs covered in laundry, leftover dishes on the ground, some hockey trophies, candy wrappers, fast food wrappers—does this man collect wrappers?
“We’re not living like this.” I swiped a pair of jeans with the heel of my sneaker. “You haven’t even lived here that long, what’s up with the laundry?”
He started collecting damp towels off the floor. “I’m waiting for my first check to find a dry cleaner.”
“You don’t do your own laundry?” I asked, genuinely confused. “Bear, the football team gets the actual royalties. You don’t have a jersey for sale right now.” I slid across more laundry with my shoe. “The Gladiators don’t even wingames.You’ll receive royalties, but they depend on how popular the team is.”
His eyes dropped to the rest of the crap on the floor. “Fuck.”
“Until the Gladiators can turn things around, you need to do things yourself.”
There was a knock at the door and Bear headed off before I could beat him to it. When he opened it, Bear glanced back with the weirdest expression. “What’s your ex doing here?”
“Oh, King’s my?—”
I stopped myself.
Why would I tell Bear my personal business? Xavier didn’t break his NDA to include Bear, so why should I? If he thought King was my ex-boyfriend, fine by me. Maybe it’d even keep him in check.
I paused. “How’d you know he’s my ex?”
Bear opened his mouth and snapped it shut. “Elijah told me.”
“Stop discussing my relationship history.” I rolled my eyes and gestured for King to come in. King was silent and gave Bear a short look.
“How’d you date her for years?” Bear called after him. “Without checking into a psychiatric hospital?”
King’s eyes narrowed, and I put a hand on his arm. “Ignore Bear. I do.”
“He doesn’t speak?” Bear taunted. “Is that how your relationship worked?”
