Chapter 26 Willa
WILLA
Of course Jordan had VIP tickets for the Tusks’ first home game after their two weeks of travel.
I had told her I wouldn’t be able to make it, that I had some clients to work with that night.
The thought of seeing Eng was almost as anxiety-inducing as the idea of hearing Jordan gush with happiness over Ozar for the entire night.
Then I received a phone call from an unknown number that tossed me head-first into indecision.
I’d given up on the slim chance that Escalates Johnson would hire me as the team’s trainer.
He hadn’t been sold on the idea I’d pitched, and two weeks of silence spoke volumes.
But something must have changed because that phone call was from him, hiring me and informing me that I was to report to the arena Monday morning to begin working with the team.
How could I possibly have such feelings of excitement and dread at the same time?
This was my big chance to launch my career into the professional sports space. And I’d be seeing Eng every day. Until he married some milk-toast woman and went home, that is.
Maybe I could talk him into giving me the Amy Sherald painting when he left. Although having that constant reminder of him would probably kill me.
As much as I wanted to stay home tonight, I couldn’t let Monday morning be the first time I’d see Eng since he ghosted me.
Monday was work. It was my first chance to prove that I could train a pro sports team.
Having an emotional breakdown and crying, throwing a dumbbell at Eng, or screaming insults at him wouldn’t be good for my career.
No, I needed to put on my big girl panties and go to the game.
There I’d see him play—or not play. And afterward if my heart could take it, I’d go with the girls to McHenry’s.
If I was going to burst into tears or start throwing things, it would be best if that happened in a bar rather than the first day of my new job.
After a quick text to Jordan that my clients had cancelled and I’d be joining them after all, I spent way too much time deciding what to wear.
Then in an effort to take my mind off Eng, I began to put together the framework of a training plan for the orcs.
Balance training was at the top of my list, thinking it would help them with their skating and with remaining upright during tricky maneuvers.
They probably already did strength training, but I’d want to continue that in a more formal program.
Team runs to not only fulfill my promise of showing off half-naked orc bodies to an admiring Baltimore public, but also to build endurance and speed.
I could mix in interval training, and put together a few running games to help build communication among the team members.
Some Pilates to increase flexibility and build on the balance training, and the real fun: explosive power training.
I thought the orcs would actually enjoy some of these workouts, and it would give me a chance to evaluate them individually to customize the one-on-one training.
I’d also want to meet with the new coach the owner had mentioned in case he planned to switch out the positions each orc was playing and to establish a partnership. If he saw a deficiency on the ice, I’d be happy to work with him to put together a training plan to address it.
I met the girls at the arena entrance and was thrilled to see that Stephanie had managed to leave her work behind and join us tonight.
The crowd filing through the entrances had to be double the attendees of their last home game, and I felt my heart stutter at the idea that I wouldn’t be training a losing orc hockey team no one took seriously.
There was less to laugh at, judging from the scores of their last few away games.
The orcs were improving, and while they still might end the season at the very bottom of the standings, they were gaining a strong local following.
And I’d be a part of that.
“Guess what I got us?” Abby reached into her tote and pulled out a hockey jersey. “Ta Da!” She turned it to show us Ozar’s name emblazoned on the back before she handed it to Jordan.
“Uh, they’re still skating without shirts, right? Because that’s a good part of the reason I’m here tonight. If I can’t ogle orc pectorals, then it’s just plain old hockey,” Stephanie announced.
Abby pulled another shirt out of the bag.
“Yes, they’re still skating half-naked, but I did talk the owner into painting numbers and names on them in grease paint before each game.
How else are we going to encourage fans to root for their favorite player?
And how else are we supposed to sell tons of merchandise? ”
I laughed at that, because she was right.
“Who does everyone want?” She asked us.
“Just grab one out of the bag, and that’s who I’ll be wearing tonight.” Stephanie winked at me, then eyed the shirt Abby handed her. “Morag. I’ve got no idea which one is Morag, but tonight I’m his biggest fan.”
I took a shirt from Abby and held my breath as I unfolded it to see the name on the back. “I got Ugwyll.” Thank the Lord it wasn’t Eng.
“And I’m wearing…Bwat.” Abby sighed and rolled her eyes. “I swear on my morning coffee that guy is everywhere I turn. I can’t swing my laptop bag without hitting an article, Insta reel, video clip, or X post about the guy.”
“He’s friendly and approachable.” Which was more than I could say about most of the other orcs. They were all huge and imposing, but Bwat was less so. And the guy seemed always happy to talk to humans about anything. Of course he was the go-to for the reporters.
I’d guzzled down the watery beer before I even reached my seat behind the team, trying to quell my jitters.
Thankfully neither Jordan nor Abby seemed to notice.
Jordan was all aglow over Ozar, and Abby was excited that the team was her client at the marketing and public relations firm she worked for.
Between the the two of them and Stephanie talking about her latest project, I couldn’t get a word in edgewise.
Which was a good thing since my focus was on not looking at Eng.
And taking quick peeks at him out of my peripheral vision.
He looked good, like he’d been hitting a workout routine hard.
His muscles were even more sculpted, his legs more powerful.
Although he still stood along the edge of the wall, he wasn’t using it to support himself.
Tonight he seemed more balanced, more confident on his skates.
Even though he didn’t chase after the puck like the other orcs, he participated by acting as a defender with a very limited play area.
He actually took a few short glides away from the wall to check a couple of the opposing team, and once batted the puck away in what turned out to be a very nice pass to Ozar.
Probably unintentional, but it showed me the guy had potential once he got his head out of his ass. If I could manage to stuff my hurt feelings into a locker and throw away the key, then I might be able to get Eng away from the wall and turn him into one of the best players on the team.
I was bursting to tell my friends my news. Instead, I held it in, deciding I’d wait until after my first session with the team on Monday to celebrate my new job. That way I wouldn’t jinx it and wind up with an eleventh-hour phone call from Escalates Johnson telling me he’d reconsidered.
The game ended with a score of one to three. It was another in a long line of losses for the Tusks, but it was a respectable loss. They were improving. And hopefully with my help, they could continue to improve.
McHenry’s was packed. It seemed that other members of the team had decided this was their go-to spot as well, and someone, probably Abby, had capitalized on that fact.
Humans crowded into the space, probably exceeding the fire code regulations as they fought to buy the orcs drinks, have jerseys and various other merchandise signed, and take selfies with the members of the hockey team.
The selfies were hilarious. The orcs were having to either hunch down to be in the frame with the much shorter humans, or help the humans to stand on various chairs so there was not quite the enormous height distance.
I found myself laughing and participating in the nonsense with an orc named Trap who was a little overly enthusiastic about taking selfies with me.
I finally shooed him away after declining a marriage proposal and turned to see Eng coming my way.
Pretending not to see him, I spun around and looked for someone else to talk to.
His arm came around my back, his hand gripping my waist. “I have missed you. Come back to my hovel tonight and I will show you how much I longed for you while I was away.”
It was a throaty proposition that sent a traitorous arrow of heat right between my legs. I gritted my teeth, remembering how angry I was. He wasn’t the first guy who’d said these things after ignoring me and having sex with other women.
“No.”
He tugged me against him where I felt the bulge of his erection against my side. “Yes.”
Damn. Why did this bossy asshole stuff get me so turned on?
Stepping forward, I put a few inches of distance between us. “No. I’m not a toy for a fuck-boy like you. You don’t get to use me for sex whenever you feel like it then ignore me every moment I’m not in your bed.”
He frowned, tilting his head as his eyes met mine.
“You use me for sex when you feel like it. We both enjoy sex with each other, and neither of us has ever declined an offer for sex. And I do not ignore you when we are not in the furs. We have had dinner together, danced, and done other activities with our clothing on. We have conversations. We do not just rut like animals then leave the furs immediately after.”