Page 33 of Grumpy Pucking Orc
“His house.” I wiggled my eyebrows. “He’s cooking me a traditional orc meal, but I’m hoping the proximity of his bedroom inspires some after-dinner activity.”
“Now you’re talking! Those guys look like they have muscles on muscles. I never pegged you for a puck bunny, though,” she teased.
“I’m not normally, but there’s something about him.” I smiled. “He’s kind of grumpy and growly, but not with me. He’s kind, thoughtful, and a good listener. And I really like hearing about his home and culture.”
“Does he have a brother?” Stephanie grinned. “One who might be interesting in going out with a werewolf who can also swing a hammer?”
“I really have no idea,” I confessed. “He didn’t mention siblings, so maybe he’s an only child. There’s a whole team of orcs in town, though. If things work out with Ozar and me, then maybe I can introduce you to one of them.”
The werewolf held up her hands. “Actually, thanks, but no thanks. I make it a rule not to date actors, musicians, or sports players. Or werewolves named Dillon.”
I nodded. “Got it. I’ll absolutely ask Ozar if he has non-actor/musician/sports player friends who are single and aren’t named Dillon and have at least basic carpentry skills.”
Stephanie gave me a thumbs-up. “Thanks. It’s a nightmare out there when it comes to dating.”
It was. I’d given up on the apps and had pretty much given up on dating all together, deciding to take a break and just focus on my career and my friends. I’d never thought that I’d meet a guy in a parking lot and end up with him offering to cook me dinner.
Chapter 14
Ozar
Igot to the stadium at six in the morning, tired and jittery from a combination of the pot of coffee I’d downed and nervous anticipation over my date tonight. There had been many, many sleepless nights when I’d been out on patrol, but I’d felt particularly drained after my restless night, hence the pot of coffee.
Tonight, I’d see Jordan. I’d feed her, spend time talking about her life and about my home. Then later, if she was amenable, I’d show her that I could satisfy her as only a true mate could.
But step one was dinner. I had a few ideas, but I wanted to run them by the other orcs for feedback before I went to the grocery store. And since I had a ton of nervous energy to burn off, I intended to strap those stupid knife blade shoes on my feet and see if I could improve my skills on the ice.
On my way to the equipment room, I peeked out at the rink and was astonished to find Ugwyll out there, sliding and falling, and cursing in a loud, frustrated voice. I could sympathize with the orc. No one on the team seemed to care at all about the game we were to play here or whetherwe won or lost. I wasn’t sure Ugwyll did either, but I knew he had pride in his athletic abilities and that it must be a horrible blow to his ego that he couldn’t manage to stay on these stupid skates.
My own competitive spirit sparked as I looked at the rink, the boxes, the empty stands, the blank scoreboard. I didn’twantto care about this game, but I did. Even if I was only here a few more weeks, I still wanted to excel at this activity. I wanted to beat our opposing team. I wanted to win.
If I won Jordan’s heart, we’d return to my home as soon as possible, but even if I never needed to glide across the ice on these knife-blades again, I still wanted to win at least one game before I left. I didn’t want to be a laughingstock, a fool. I might have managed to score one goal the last game, but it wasn’t enough.
It couldn’t let it be the last goal I scored. If I had to punch every human on the opposing team, I wasn’t going to let them win easily. Even though they would probably end up with the top score, I’d still feel good watching them limp out of the arena, bruised and bleeding.
I left Ugwyll falling and cursing on the ice and went to get my skates. He was still there when I stomped out of the tunnel onto the ice, sprawled out by one of the nets.
“Here.” I slid a stick over to him and dropped a puck on the ground.
“Eat shit,” he snarled as the stick slid to a stop against his knee. “I hate this game. I hate these knife-shoes. I hate ice.”
“I hate the smug opposing team,” I continued his rant. “I hate being laughed at by the humans in the stands. I hate our demon team owner who gives zero fucks whether welook like fools or not as long as he rakes in the ticket and sponsorship money.”
Ugwyll struggled to his feet, using the stick for support and holding on to the goal with his other hand. “I should just go home, but there’s no way I’m going back without a bride, a total failure and a loser.”
“So, stop being a loser.” I slid him a second stick.
“What did you call me?” Ugwyll snarled as he reached down to grab the second stick.
I waited until the other orc was fully upright and using the two sticks for balance. “A loser. At least I scored a point. You couldn’t even get from one side of the rink to the other without falling.”
Ugwyll roared, propelling himself forward. His feet slid all over, but he managed to stay standing and somehow moved forward. When he got close to me, he swung one of the hockey sticks and missed, almost toppling over in the process. I waited until he was balanced and stabilized, then slowly skated away.
I wasn’t as good as the humans we’d played against, but I’d slowly been figuring out how to walk on these things without stomping huge dents in the ice.
I led Ugwyll for two laps around the ice, noticing that the other orc hadn’t fallen once and was now starting to rely less on the sticks for balance. And he was picking up speed. I also noticed my own walking was becoming less choppy and quicker as well. As I tried to turn around and skate backward, I immediately fell on my ass. Ugwyll skated up and smacked me with one of his sticks. I grabbed it out of his hand and the other orc spun around, gliding backward into the wall—all without falling.
I couldn’t help but feel smug as I got to my feet. Ugwyll was the most athletically talented of the whole team, and hewas livid over his inability to master this sport within seconds of stepping onto the ice. I’d wondered if his fury over not being instantly good at something was keeping him from making progress, so I’d given the other orc something else to be angry at—me.
