Page 63 of Geeky Pucking Orc

“It’s ‘my man’, and it’s a common human greeting from male to male,” I explained to everyone’s relief.

Eng looked like he was napping on one of the weight benches, but seconds before our trainer entered, he jumped up and pushed Trap and Morag aside so he could be in the front of the group. As the winner of the box jump contest from yesterday, Eng received a cannoli and taunted us with his pastry treat. Every orc on the team was determined to win today, not just for a cannoli or their own, but to wipe that smug look off the prince’s face.

Willa sent us all outside and informed us that Ozar would be leading the team on a run through various streets and parks of the city. We took off, nearly two dozen orcs thundering down sidewalks, dodging pedestrians, dog-walkers, and baby strollers. As if teleporting via fae magic, Willa appeared just as we approached a park and told us to run a long set of stairs in front of a municipal building until she told us to stop. We’d had a few humans stop to take pictures or shout encouragement. A group of orcs circling up and down these stairs drew quite a crowd.

I liked this outdoor running much better than the treadmills. What I did not like was the weightlifting contest afterward. The other orcs were stronger than me, which resulted in a humiliating last-place score. Then our trainer told us to put on our skates and grab out sticks and meet her on the ice.

Assuming this would be a hand-off to Ozar’s hockey practice, I made my way to the wing position, only to have Willa wave me back over.

“This here is a cat toy.” The trainer held up a three-inch mechanical mouse. “It’s fast and it changes directions without any warning. Your mission is to tap it with your stick. Tap it. Not send it flying into the stands or smash it into a million pieces. This is the only one I’ve got so be gentle. Each time you tap it, you get a point.”

“Does the winner get a cannoli?” Morag asked.

The human female rolled her eyes. “Sure. Cannoli for the winner of this contest as well.”

Everyone cheered. Then she put the mouse on the ice, and it took off, all of us frantically trying to get close enough to tap the toy with our stick. Unlike Ozar’s careful drills, this was chaos. Orcs slid and fell and smashed into the boards. Ugwyl knocked over one of the goals and got his skates tangled in the net. I held back and watched, quickly realizing that while the mouse was supposed to change directions in an unpredictable fashion, its movements were actually far from random. I was the first to tap the mechanical toy by anticipating its turns and being a few steps ahead instead of chasing the thing all over the ice. After I’d scored three taps, the others realized I had somehow figured the game out and began following me instead of the mouse. This technique caused a few to gain a point here and there, but at the end I’d clearly won.

And I was oddly embarrassed by the fact.

“Amazing work, Bwat!” Ozar thumped me on the shoulder.

“He’s done this before,” Eng said. “Bwat’s parents make these kind of things and have them magicked by the fae. He probably grew up chasing these mouse toys.”

“It’s the only hunting Bwat is good at!” Pfton teased.

Willa promised me a cannoli tomorrow and we all went back to the locker room to drink some water and prepare for Ozar’s workout. By the time we were done, and I had showered and changed my clothes I was exhausted, but not quite as tired as I had been yesterday. Once more Abby had bought lunch for me. After we ate, I napped alone this time while she worked nearby at her desk. It felt like home, like family, and I found myself wishing that she was with me all the time.

“What are your plans for dinner?” I asked once I’d awoken from my nap and seen the sun low on the horizon outside her office window.

She bit her lip. “A pack of peanut butter crackers from the convenience store?”

I scowled. “I will feed you. When will you be done with your work for the day?”

Her greenish-brown eyes widened for a brief second, then she smiled. “You know, I think I’ve done enough. Give me a few seconds to send another email, then we can go.”

I’d been ready to have an argument about her inadequate nutrition and was shocked by how easily she’d agreed to let me feed her.

“What would you like to eat…Abby?” I almost called her an endearment in Orcish, even though she didn’t know my language. Or maybe it was because she didn’t know my language. Saying that without her knowing what it meant would feel deceptive, and we weren’t at a point in our relationship where we called each other by pet names. Maybe sometime soon. I hoped.

Abby paused her typing, then looked up at me. “Steak. I really want steak.”

Steak. A female after my own heart. The fact that she had requested a slab of meat, hopefully not too overcooked, meant something to us orcs. Even though I was not slaying the beast and cooking it myself, providing this for her brought me great pride.

So I took out my phone to look for the best steak restaurant in Baltimore.

29

ABBY

I’d made a decision. Sitting at my desk and watching Bwat sleep on the couch next to me had stirred something deep in my soul. He was my closest friend. He was so damned attractive. And my feelings for him had somehow bridged friendship and lust to become something more.

When he’d insisted that he would feed me in that growly deep voice, I’d nearly swooned. Damn. That was hot. Romance-novel hot. And without all the real-life red flags either.

So I’d agreed. Then I’d told him I wanted steak, taking a guess on how that particular request would land with the orc. Bwat didn’t disappoint. He swallowed hard, and there was a noticeable tightness in his pants as he pulled his cell phone out and began typing.

After I’d packed up, we walked downstairs and out into the parking lot. Bwat was doing his head-on-a-swivel thing which I thought was so sweet. He had wanted us to take an Uber, but I insisted I should drive us, so Bwat folded himself into my small hatch back and sat with his knees practically up to his chin as I drove to the address he gave me. I’d figured I would need to circle the block and find a parking garage, but Bwat directed me to the entrance where a man darted forward to open my door and hand me a valet parking ticket.

I looked up at the sign and gawked. My job paid well, and while I’d made a point to save for the future, I also splurged on meals and my clothing. And my shoes. While I wasn’t a five-inch-heel kind of girl, I did love a well-made Italian leather pump.