Forging Chaos (Forging #3)

18. Odin

CHAPTER 18

ODIN

“That was awesome.” My mouth brushes against Thora’s hair as I lean in to whisper in her ear. She flushes, my favorite shade of pink splashing across her cheeks in contrast to her dark hair. Why does she do that? I fucking love it, even if I don’t understand that response from someone so obviously capable and kick-ass.

Professor Ferda smiles and gives us a thumbs up as the class titters in applause. I realize everyone is probably waiting for my hobbled ass to get back to my seat so the next group can go. I navigate the narrow space between chairs, bumping into shit with my knee roller.

Then I watch as Thora leans forward in her desk, totally paying attention to the next student presentation. I never, ever pay attention to those. I’m not going to start now, but I do watch as my research partner takes notes and focuses. She’s probably deconstructing their arguments already and finding weaknesses.

I could walk out of here right now. I’m supposed to go immediately withdraw from school so I can get my medical delay or whatever it’s called. I’ve stopped even bothering to check my email, so I have no idea how many of my other professors are still reaching out. Right on cue, my phone vibrates in my pocket with a message from Meech, demanding that I roll right up to his office as soon as my presentation ends.

I purse my lips and glance at Thora again. I want to do something with her after class rather than fade into her memory as some guy she knew once. She’s about to go be a wizard or whatever at her fancy British school. And what will I be? A college drop-out with no career prospects and nothing to do but rehab an injury. It occurs to me that I’ll lose my apartment, too, if I leave school. The Stag pad is in a building for student-athletes. Shit. I was going to stay one more semester until my eligibility ran out, and I left for the pros.

So, really, I’m an injured college drop-out who has to move back in with his parents. Yeah, I’m in no rush to deal with this paperwork.

A flutter of applause alerts me to the fact that the group has finished presenting. I watch Thora raise her hand and ask them if they could elaborate on the bias of one of the sources they used, and I laugh on the inside as she arches a brow in response to their inability to answer. She’s not flushing now.

Class ends soon after, and I tug on the sleeve of Thora’s sexy dress. “Hey.” She turns. She’s wearing makeup today, just a little. It makes her eyes look huge and her lips really, really good.

I drag a hand down my cheek. “You want to grab lunch? Celebrate being done?” I hope my voice doesn’t give away how desperate I am for her to say yes. Because once she says no, that’s it. We’re not going to the author event together. We’re just two people who did a research project for a class she needed to graduate.

Her face falls. “Oh, I can’t today. I work.”

I will my expression into a grin even though my insides are crumbling. “Well, then, I guess I’m following you for a drink.” She smiles at that, and I’m surprised by the amount of relief I feel. “You going to wear that to tend bar?” I gesture at the dress I know she cherishes. I’m so glad she decided to wear it so I can memorize how it looks on her, highlighting every tiny dip in her figure.

Thora shakes her head. “Nah. I was going to change in the bathroom, and Fern was going to come grab the dress and take it to her place. Nobody smokes there…” Thora drops off like she’s revealed too much about herself.

“I can take it to my place for you if that’s easier. I know Fern takes the bus…”

Thora laughs, a delightful puff of sound. “Yeah, and you take forever on your scooter thing.”

I waggle my brows. “Yes, but I have a basket.”

I roll back to my place after Thora changes in the bathroom, where I tried desperately not to imagine her naked as she peeled off the dress and slipped into her jeans and tank. I ignore a bunch of texts from Meech and my coach. Instead calling one of my brothers to come run the dress up to my room. While I wait, I tear off my shirt, jacket, and tie, glad I wore a T-shirt underneath all that. I stuff everything in the bag Thora gave me, liking that our nice clothes are hanging out together.

Eventually, Gunny stumbles outside like he just woke up, which might be true since the hockey team is finished for the semester.

“Anything else, your majesty?” He eyes the plastic bag suspiciously and starts to open the snap to look inside.

“Mind your business. But can you run me to the Fuel Up? I’m meeting someone.”

Gunnar squints and gives the bag a squeeze. “Someone, eh?”

“Can you take me or not? ”

He scratches his nuts and yawns but eventually shrugs. “Yeah, let me go get my keys.”

My brother drops me off without too much hassle, only cursing twice as he watches me struggle to get my knee scooter out of the back seat. “How much longer will you need that thing?”

I look upward, trying to do some quick math. “Two more weeks, I think. Then I get crutches. Or maybe I can walk in the cast? I have to ask.”

He grunts. “That fucking sucks, bro.”

“Yeah.”

He looks at his phone. “I have class for a few hours. Want me to grab you after?”

I nod and slap the roof of his car. “Thanks for the ride.”

When I get inside, Thora is pouring beers with both hands, smiling and wiggling her tiny butt to the music blasting. The place is pretty full. I guess a lot of people are celebrating the end of the semester. Next week are finals and then commencement. I tip my chin at a guy who vacates the end stool at the bar for me. I should care more that I’m this level of incapacitated, but I just don’t.

While I wait for Thora to serve me, I realize my parents and uncles must be upset that zero Stag kids are getting their degrees this spring, as expected. Wes is playing pro soccer here in Pittsburgh, Wyatt is playing in London, Stellan is taking an extra year for some reason, and me? Well…

“Get you something?” Thora grins and leans her elbows on the bar in front of me. I don’t even pretend not to stare at her tits.

“Shot of Glenfiddich?”

Thora rolls her eyes. “This isn’t that kind of place, Odin. Best I can do is Johnnie Walker. ”

I arch a brow. “But does it have a Stag on the label?”

“I could draw one for you if that makes you feel more included.”

I laugh and nod. “It would, thanks. I’ll wait while you do that.”

Thora flicks the tip of my nose and hops on a stool to grab a bottle of scotch from the top shelf. She pours me more than a shot’s worth and slides the glass toward me.

“Wish you could do one of these with me.” I look at her above the glass, smelling the warm spice of the liquor.

“I can do a shot of soda.” She pours herself some from the nozzle into a plastic cup, which she taps against my shot glass. “Cheers, Odin.”

“Skol,” I say, making her laugh again. She takes an order from someone else, not even telling me what I owe her, which I guess is fine because I plan to sit here as long as she can stand me. I order a burger and another shot before switching to beer. I’m off the painkillers now, and I’m also off my nutrition plan.

My body doesn’t know what to do with all the greasy food and alcohol. I can hear my stomach digesting against its will as Thora waits on a few more people, and then the lunch rush dies down, and I’m the only one left in the bar.

“You were great today,” I tell her, spinning my empty glass in a puddle of condensation.

“You weren’t half bad either, big guy.” She gestures at her chest and points at me. “I wasn’t expecting you to match your tie to my dress.”

I tug on my imaginary cufflinks and glance down at my t-shirt, relieved to notice I have not spilled ketchup on myself. “I can clean up sometimes.”

“Yeah, like I said, you only looked half bad.”

“At least it was my good half.” I give my leg a shake.

Thora sighs. “I really am sorry, Odin. I feel like I haven’t said that enough. You must be floundering, trying to figure out what’s next.”

“Ha.” I dab at my mouth with a napkin. “There is no next. I’m moving back in with my parents until I become one with their basement couch.”

She frowns. “I used to not be able to see a future at all, you know. The first time my dad went to jail when I was in high school, I literally couldn’t imagine what life would be like for me. I sort of thought I’d end up working retail or tending bar forever, but I couldn’t even see that. I’d think about after high school, and it would just be…a black cloud.”

“Relatable content.” I stifle a burp. I must be well on my way to drunk. Thora doesn’t offer me a refill, and I don’t ask for one. I focus on my fries.

“But I had a really good mentor in high school. For some reason.” She grabs the nozzle thing and a plastic cup and pours me a water without mentioning it. “They helped me apply for college, showed me scholarships, made suggestions. Don’t you have someone telling you your options?”

“Oh, everyone’s got opinions.” I point at her with a French fry. “My uncles want me to go to law school. My dad has told me at least 700 times that I can coach college or pro ball with my playing experience. And let’s see…my cousins have offered me free tickets to watch them play professional soccer, as if it wouldn’t be fucking devastating to hear Stag this and Stag that while I’m stuck in a cast.”

Thora’s eyes crinkle around the corners, and her expression is hard to read. “I’m nervous, too, you know? About moving somewhere all alone, the unknown of it all, and the pressure.”

I grip the bar with both hands and lean forward until my face is an inch from hers. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about. You’re a fucking force, Thora, goddess of thunder.” I’m close enough to smell her breath, and I know I’m going to kiss her. I want to grab the back of her head and pull her into me, yank her across the damn bar, and into my lap. She parts her lips, and I know she wants it, too.

But my brother Gunnar’s voice slashes the moment. “Yo, Odin, if you want a ride home, I’m leaving now.”

I sink back into the stool and turn to face him. He leans against the door to the bar, massive arms crossed over his chest, shit-eating grin on his face. That fucker absolutely timed his outburst to interrupt me kissing my new obsession. I turn back to Thora, who licks her lips and tucks her hair behind her ears. “I’ll close out your tab,” she whispers, and I nod.

I grab a bunch of cash from my wallet and slide it under my plate. “Have a great time at the book thing with Fern,” I tell her.

If she responds, I don’t hear her over the squeak of my scooter as my brother helps me out the door.