Chapter 37 Eng #2
“You are supposed to keep the board centered over the cylinder, like this.” She demonstrated, making it look easy. “Once you can keep it centered without the ends touching the ground, then try to roll the board back and forth across the cylinder.”
I watched her, positive that this would be as difficult as trying to touch my toes.
“Your turn.”
She hopped off and I approached, carefully positioning my feet with one end of the board stable against the ground and the other raised.
Then I shifted my weight. The cylinder rolled.
The board dipped and I overcorrected. The board shot sideways across the room while I felt myself topple in the opposite direction directly at Willa.
She squeaked in surprise as I slammed into her. Instinctively I twisted, wrapping my arms around her waist mid-fall and turning so that I landed onto the mat with her on top of me.
I didn’t let go. Having her in my arms like this, feeling her body against mine, inhaling the clean scent of soap and laundry detergent, and that warm aroma that was all my Willowyn. I loved her. I loved her and I didn’t want to ever let her go.
She shifted and I reluctantly released her, noticing that she lingered on top of me a few seconds before rolling to the side.
“Are you unhurt?” I asked.
“I’m fine, but I should be asking you that question.” Still lying beside me she turned, her shoulder against mine.
“I am unhurt physically, but my pride is very wounded,” I confessed. My stomach chose that moment to growl. Loudly. “And I am hungry.”
Willa laughed. “Me too. Let’s go get some food. I’ll work on these exercises and we’ll give them another shot tomorrow.”
The shrew chose a dining establishment only a block from my hovel.
The proximity was a reminder of what we’d had just a few weeks ago and how tenuous this relationship between us was.
But our bond seemed far less fragile as we ate giant sandwiches and talked.
Conversation with her was so easy, so very effortless.
We discussed nothing of import—our favorite seasons, if steaks should be seared first or after cooking, if magical globes or solar powered lights were more energy efficient.
She insisted on paying for her portion of the bill. As the server left to get change, I took my chance.
“Willowyn—Willa Filipkowski, I did not consider your feelings or your customs and expectations before. I was wrong, a wyndall’s ass, and I truly regret it.
My feelings for you go deeper than my flesh.
My hand-axe is not the only part of me that longs for you.
I want to woo you. Please give me a chance to win your heart.
In return I promise to always be honest, and to always put you first.”
Her eyes widened. At that moment the server returned with our change, thanking us and hoping to see us again soon. When she left, I could tell that Willa wanted to do anything but return to the interrupted subject of us.
“Please.” I reached out to take her hand and felt it tremble in mine.
Was she scared? Had I moved too fast? Was I putting her in an awkward position where she would need to worry what might happen to her job if she rejected me. The thought twisted my heart.
“If you do not want me to woo you, if you wish me to never mention this again, then I will do so. I will not tell anyone of what we shared. I will work hard as an orc on the team and treat you with respect as the others do.” My voice was gravel-rough as I spoke.
“If this is what you want, just tell me so.”
“No!” She pulled her hand away and fiddled with her purse.
“I mean…I’m not sure if I want you to woo me.
I just…” Her brown eyes were filled with uncertainty and pain as she glanced up at me.
“You could break my heart. You already have broken my heart. I can’t be hurt again, especially by you. I just can’t.”
It was as if my own heart had been broken. I longed to take her hands again. I longed to get up and gather her into my arms, to hold her tight against me. I longed to protect her and keep her safe where no one would ever hurt her. But the greatest danger to her wasn’t someone else. It was me.
Once more I needed to risk failure, but unlike my choice to be the team goalie, this would be the most important choice of my life.
“I want you to be mine, Willa Filipkowski. Forever. I want to spend my life with you, and I am willing to work as long as I need to convince you that I am sincere.”
She drew in a ragged breath, but said nothing. My hands twitched on the table, urgently wanting to touch her.
“I want you to be my bride. I will have no other. Only you. I want you for my bride. I want you to be my princess, and eventually my queen.”
She looked up, her eyes wet with tears, her mouth trembling on the edge of either a smile or sorrow. “But I’m not princess material.”
“You are to me. In my eyes, you are the only princess. I do not care what anyone else thinks. Their opinion is not important. You and I…together. That is all that matters to me.”
She smiled and choked on a sob all at the same time. Unable to stop myself I jumped up from the booth, pulled her from her seat, and wrapped my arms around her.
“Yes,” she whispered, her breath warm on the thin fabric of my T-shirt. “Yes, Eng. I will be your princess.”