Page 117 of Call the Shots
I unmuted the call and grinned. “Maintenance for the wrong room. Check your email.”
“My email?” June repeated. I didn’t confirm, I just watched while June’s frown deepened. “Did you…?”
“Yeah.”
“No, I—I can’t accept this.”
“Welcome toZoo Cultivation IV.”
“It’ssixty dollars.”
I could’ve pretended like it was no big deal but with the paychecks delayed at Marrs, June knew I was broke. Even if I was, that didn’t matter. “I used my birthday gift card money.”
“I’m not using yourbirthdaymoney?—”
“No refunds.”
“It says you have thirty days to get a refund!”
“I don’t want a refund. Game with me and we’ll call it even.”
June was speechless. “I’ll ruin your zoo.”
“I game with little kids,” I said easily. “You can’t do worse than them. AJ had an elephant painting class next to a music show. It spooked the elephant, he trampled six guests.”
“Your cousins will hate you for bringing me on?—”
“You and I can build a new zoo together.”
A smile tugged up on her lips before someone said her name. She sighed. “I have to get back to lunch, I just needed a break. Thank you. Really, thank you.”
“Any time,” I promised.
The call ended and I gazed at the ceiling, touching my chest. My heart thumped in a steady rhythm. June could do that. Change the inner workings of me so easily, like her fingers were casually rolling the dials. We talked about orbits in Dr. Schulman’s class, but I understood them better than anybody else.
June pulled me into hers and I couldn’t stop the trajectory.
If June wantedproof that her plants were fine, she’d get it. I’d snap a picture of me and the esperanza bush, taking a nap on her bed.
The setup had to be perfect. If the plant tipped over, that’d ruin it. I stretched out on her bed diagonally, getting in position. I reached for one of the big pillows, grinning, until I caught the scent. The pillow hung above me. It was bright pink, and the smell made my muscles freeze.
It was the floral smell from her shampoo. The clean smell of June, fresh out of the shower, when she’d slide down the couch and comb her hair.
Slowly, I lowered the pillow and inhaled.
Fuck, that’s good.
It was more than the smell of her shampoo. Her, after a nap, in that comfortable, sleepy smell that left my chest warm. The perfume she occasionally wore. Her lotion, I could definitely smell that, it was some kind of fruit. Peaches? Apricots? What was it? It was mouthwatering. A perfect mixture that left my head spinning. Pressing the pillow against my face, I inhaled as deeply as I could.
My cock stiffened.
Oh, fuck.
“No, no, no,” I muttered, tossing the pillow to its rightful place before leaving with the boner of shame. I wouldn’t get off to thesmellof June. While she was out of the dorm for the week? Hell no.
I’d been toeing this line between okay and weird with my feelings. Smelling her pillow wasn’t on that spectrum. It was so deep in ‘fucking weird,’ it was off the grid.
The guy who smells a girl’s pillow doesn’t get to be her boyfriend, that guy goes straight to jail. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. That was psycho, obsessive behavior. And I’d never been that guy before.
