Page 74 of Geeky Pucking Orc

Jordan sat down, looking pleased with herself. “Yes, we are.”

Two penalties, but none of them had been Bwat. He was going to be sad to lose his #BwatHappens status, but I hoped this change would help him keep his job with the team.

Eng had taken his position in the crease for the penalty shot. He crouched slightly, stick on the ice, looking less like a goalie and more like a guy who'd just caught the neighbor’s dog pooping on his lawn. The opposing team set up, then began moving the puck around the perimeter.

Bwat stayed low, his gaze shifting, then fixing on a human player at the far right. I knew enough now to recognize what he was doing. He wasn't chasing the puck. He was watching. Anticipating who was going to be the one taking the shot.

One of the Flyers shot the puck across the ice right toward the guy Bwat was watching. He pushed off from the boards, not to intercept the puck, but to intercept the human. As the man skated forward into position, he saw the orc coming his way. That second of inattention gave Morag the chance to knock the puck free. Bwat slapped it to Ugwyll and tried to turn so he didn’t collide with the other player. Thanks to the human’s agility, Bwat missed him and plowed into Morag instead. Thankfully Morag had a solid center of gravity and as much if not more mass than Bwat, so neither orc fell. Instead Bwat bounced backward, recovered his balance, and quickly returned to his position.

By the third period I had completely stopped pretending I was watching this game through the lens of a marketing professional. My phone was in my purse. I hadn't checked the social media accounts in almost twenty minutes. Instead, I was standing with everyone else as the opposing team rushed into the Tusks' zone.

“Bwat!” I yelled. “Get him! Go, go!”

None of my friends reacted this time. Apparently, they were just as focused on the game as me –too focused to tease me about my relationship with the orc.

Bwat moved in front of the winger, keeping a careful distance. The human carrying the puck looked at him and slowed.

I laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Stephanie asked.

“They’re scared of Bwat,” I told her.

She “nodded. “Of course they are. Wouldn't you be if some three-hundred pounds of muscle with questionable skating ability was coming your way?”

“No.” I smiled, thinking of how gentle and caring Bwat was.

Stephanie gave me a look. “You’ve got the soppiest expression on your face right now. I like it. You deserve love, Abby.”

Her words hit me hard. I deserved love. I’d never really believed that before. I wasn’t sure I believed it now. Was this truly love that I felt for Bwat? I missed him when he wasn’t around. I was always thinking of things or seeing something and filing it away to tell Bwat about it later. I trusted him. I felt safe with him. I felt as if I were something precious and wonderful in his eyes. And the fear that he’d hurt me, leave me, break my heart if I gave that particular organ to him had vanished over the last week. This was Bwat. And Bwat would never hurt me.

I did love him. And this love wasn’t like the fierce storm of my romance books; it was a warm kitten curled up and purring on my lap. Love came in all shapes and forms. This was mine. He was mine.

And I was his.

On the ice the opposing player tried to move outside to evade Bwat. The orc stayed with him, blocking his path. The human shifted toward center, but Bwat cut him off. They were both approaching the faceoff circle now, the human running out of room. Then Bwat stepped forward.

The hit was a thing of beauty. There was no flailing, no falling, no accidental collision involving two sticks and four skates or the net. Bwat had just planted his skates and put his shoulder into the other player's chest.

The human went down. Hard. And the puck slid free.

For half a second Bwat just stood there. He looked toward the referee, and I knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Go!” I screamed. “It was a legal hit! Go!”

Then Bwat scooped up the puck, looked toward center ice, and sent a clean pass to Ozar.

The arena erupted. Ozar moved down the ice toward the Flyer’s net. I barely saw what happened because I was too busy watching Bwat, admiring the lean muscles along his shoulders and across his chest. Suddenly he looked up, right at me. And I was smiling so hard my cheeks hurt.

He smiled back.

“You two are so adorable,” Jordan teased. “Just as cute as Ozar and me.”

“Yes. We are adorable,” I agreed, giving in and admitting to the warm bubbly feeling coursing through me.

The crowd erupted as Ozar took a shot. The goalie blocked it, but the rebound came loose and chaos descended around the crease. Orcs and humans converged. Sticks jabbed. Bodies collided. Someone fell. Jordan started yelling. Stephanie started yelling. I started yelling, although I had no idea why I was yelling. Beside me, Willa shouted something about the back door that I was fairly certain had nothing to do with an actual door or butt-sex.

The puck disappeared beneath the pile. Everyone groaned at the shrill sound of the whistle.