Forging Chaos (Forging #3)

16. Odin

CHAPTER 16

ODIN

I was seconds away from coming in my pants after seeing Thora in that dress. It’s not even a slutty dress. In fact, it’s super professional, which is what she said she wanted. But it clung to her body in ways that set off deeply unprofessional thoughts in my caveman brain.

If she weren’t excited about how fancy it is, I would probably take her somewhere and rip it off her. Except I can’t do the things I want to do to her because I only have one functional foot. That awareness calms my dick right down, and I wheel down the block toward the bookstore, remembering that I never did get to confess that I ruined Thora’s book.

Thankfully, the bookstore has an accessible entrance and wide aisles, so I wheel myself inside in search of the romance section. This is where I find my mother…laughing and fiddling with boxes of books along with my Aunt Emma and one of her friends.

I stand there with my mouth hanging open, irrationally wondering if my mom somehow knew what I did to ruin the book I came here to replace.

I eventually realize that’s ridiculous and wheel my way over toward her. And she clutches at her chest like she’s about to faint. “Odin! You’re out and about!” Mom clamps a hand on Aunt Emma’s shoulder, and my aunt pats it supportively.

“I do leave the house, Mom. Come on.”

She shakes her head. “Of course you do, sweetheart. It’s just all those stairs. And you’ve been so grouchy when Dad and I have tried to call or stop by. Did you find the soup Dad left you?”

“Yeah. Thank you.” I stare at the floor for a beat. “I know I’ve been in a mood. But I’ve also been leaving the house more.”

“Well, what brings you in here? Did you come to help set up for the event?” Mom points at a sign, which informs me that Aunt Emma will be in conversation with Chloe Petals here at the bookstore, talking about the crossover between nonfiction sports books and the historical romance Chloe will soon release about Pittsburgh rowers in the 1800s. Mom, an Olympic gold medalist in rowing, is apparently the host of the event.

“I had no idea any of this was happening,” I admit, fidgeting with my scooter, wondering how our entire family is going to fit in this tiny bookstore, let alone members of the public.

Aunt Emma grins. “We’ve sort of kept this one tight. I know the Stag herd is supportive, but this is more for our rabid fans. Well. Mostly Chloe’s rabid fans.”

And then the name clicks. Chloe Petals wrote the very book I’m here to replace. Chloe Petals is Mom’s friend Chloe, whose real last name is definitely not Petals. I snap my eyes to the smiling woman stacking books by my aunt. I point at her. “You wrote The Redcoat .”

She laughs. “I sure did. But you’re not the demographic I was expecting. You’ve read it?”

My cheeks heat, which is really saying something because I’m always the guy who has no problem running to the pharmacy for condoms for my football teammates. “I read parts of it. I actually need to replace my friend’s copy because I…spilled something on hers.”

Chloe beams and turns around, reaching into one of the boxes. “Here you go, kiddo. On the house. Oh! Should I sign it?”

“I don’t mind paying for the book.”

Mom waves a hand and nudges Chloe with her shoulder. “Yes, sign it and tell the friend Odin’s mother wants to meet her.”

“You already did,” I start to explain, the words out of my mouth before I realize the impact that will have. Mom and Aunt Emma clap their hands and Chloe wiggles around like she hit the lottery. They always act this way when one of my brothers or cousins brings home a date, which is why I don’t do that.

“When did I meet her?” Mom taps her chin. “I would remember if my son introduced me to a special someone.”

I sigh. “Don’t call her a special someone , Mom. And you know Thora from the student law clinic, apparently. She’s my research partner from class.”

“Oooh, Thora,” Chloe coos. “That’s a great heroine name.”

Mom squints at me. “Didn’t you say you have a project together in a class? Sweetie, I thought you were doing a medical withdrawal? That paperwork is pretty important for NCAA eligibil?—”

“Mom, I got it under control, thanks.” I don’t mean to snap at her, but everyone is always up in my shit about all of this. To Chloe, I explain, “My friend is Thora, T-H-O-R-A, and she’s a huge fan.”

Chloe scribbles something in the book and snaps it shut, handing it to me. “In that case, you should bring her to the event. It’s sold out, but I happen to still have my two guest tickets to give away.”

My brows fly up. Thora will bust an ovary if I bring her to see her favorite author in real life. I look at the date on the poster—this coming Thursday. We’ll be done with our presentation by then. I realize that I’ve been sort of dreading the end of our time hanging out together, and this is definitely a way to extend that. Maybe she will wear that dress…

“I’d love that, thank you,” I blurt as Mom and Aunt Emma exchange glances. It’s no use trying to tell them there’s nothing particular going on there. Thora is moving to another country in a few months.

She’s also the only person in my life right now who didn’t know me as Future Pro Football Player Odin Stag. It’s refreshing, having her give me shit and fight with me, just for me. And it helps that she’s cute as hell. I can already see her sitting ramrod straight in her seat, hanging on Chloe’s every word during whatever conversation they’re going to have.

I kiss Mom on the cheek, accept an arm squeeze from Aunt Emma, and salute Chloe with the book as I roll out of the store to find Thora, who is just now exiting her store with a huge plastic bag of clothes.

A smile splits my face, and I don’t even care about the uneven sidewalk as I make my way toward her. “Listen,” I start. “I never got to tell you my confession, but it’s all good because I already made up for what I did.”

She leans against the brick wall of the thrift shop, seemingly intrigued. “I forgot that you were telling me you did something bad.”

“Oh, I’m bad, sugar.” I wink at her and hand her the book. She glances down at it, confused. I lower my voice. “I ruined your book last night, but I got you a signed copy as a replacement.”

She drops her bag of clothes on the ground and opens the book, chin dropping, eyes popping wide. “It’s signed and personalized? Where did you get this??”

I hook a thumb behind me in the direction of the bookstore. “That’s not all, though. There’s an event here on Thursday.”

She rolls her eyes at me like I’m the biggest idiot in Pittsburgh. “Duh. It’s been sold out for months. I wanted to go with Fern as a sort of farewell adventure.”

My heart sinks, knowing I’m going to offer her both tickets and knowing I won’t get to see her in the dress again or spend that time with her. I chalk it up to just one more thing I’ve lost this spring, but I tell her, “Well, I’m about to make your day, I guess.” I pull the tickets from my pocket. “VIP seating and all.”

Thora blinks at me, speechless. And then she tackles me into the wall with a hug that sends my scooter flying. Propped on one foot, I lean against the wall as Thora pumps her arms around me like she’s giving me the Heimlich. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, you big, sexy hero. How do you have this? Are you made of magic?”

When she finally releases me and sees my scooter all tipped over, me perching like a flamingo to keep my boot off the ground, she starts laughing, and I join her because what else is there to do?