Chapter Five
"Let me get this right," Loki said with a flourish. "You, Thor, God of Thunder, want me, Loki, God of Mischief, to distract a bartender so you can talk to a girl. This is why you called me all the way up here?"
"No, I called you up here because I want you to touch Elle and tell me all about her, and then tell me what you see the possibilities of the future to be. But you won't."
"Sorry," Loki said. "I made a promise."
Dammit. Why was everyone being so secretive all of a sudden?
Usually, everyone was more than willing to help him with whatever he needed.
With how much nagging he’d gotten over the last hundred years about not being alone, he would have thought everyone would be more than overjoyed to help him.
Instead, it was almost like the opposite.
"Am I the only one you two won’t help, or are there others as well?"
Loki shrugged. "I'm not one to gossip."
Thor snorted.
"Is our business concluded?" Loki looked at his watch.
"Oh, please, don't act like this was such an inconvenient trip for you. You had to do what? Focus on the pub for five seconds before you were able to transport here?"
"Do you have any idea what my time is worth? What I charge per hour?"
"Well, plan B won't take an hour. She gets her fifteen-minute break in less than five minutes," said Thor.
"After sitting here, it will have been half an hour, which equals-"
"One bottle of Odin's reserve ale? Done," said Thor.
Loki's eyes widened slightly. "Not so fast. I agree on the ale, but you will also owe me a favor."
"What favor?"
Loki's eyes twinkled in a way that reminded him of Frigg, and a smirk settled on his chiseled face. "I'll tell you when the time comes."
"That's not a deal I would agree to if I were you," said Heimdall.
"Better decide fast, Odinson," said Loki. "Your girl took off her apron and is headed for the stairs to the lofts."
Thor looked over his shoulder toward the staircase, which led to the upper-floor apartments. Elle had almost reached the bottom step.
"Looks like Val is not far behind," Loki prodded.
He was going to lose his shot. "Deal." Thor jumped from the table and headed for the stairs. He hit the bottom when he heard Loki's voice behind him.
"Well, Val, fancy meeting you here," Loki said loudly.
Thor didn't wait for a reply, but he got the feeling Loki would have helped Thor for a chance to talk to Val without ale or favor attached.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he reached the top as Elle put the key in the lock of one of the doors.
"Elle."
She jumped. "Th- Thor. Did... did you need something?" She pulled the key from the lock and backed up a step.
He slowed his pace and held up his hands. "I wanted to talk to you."
She scanned the hallway like a scared rabbit. "All right." She dropped her gaze and let her hair fall over her face.
He stopped in front of her, his boots scraping softly against the carpet.
The sounds from the bar below barely hummed in the background.
He wondered if Frigg had magicked the apartments so they weren’t bothered by the sounds.
His heart hammered, a wild and erratic rhythm, as though it had forgotten he’d ever spoken to a woman before.
If anyone had asked him moments earlier, he would have claimed to be confident- charming even- but standing face-to-face with her, every practiced word he'd rehearsed over the last day evaporated like the morning mist.
Her hair, a cascade of beautiful fiery spirals, swayed with her movements. He couldn't help but notice how the golden undertones caught the light, shimmering like a flickering fire.
When he truly looked into her eyes without the obstruction of her mask- it was as if he’d stepped into an entirely new world.
They weren’t just green; they were flecked with tiny bursts of amber and gold that seemed to dance.
She didn’t look at him- she studied him, peeling back his layers with quiet curiosity.
He’d never felt more exposed and yet oddly seen, as though she read every thought racing through his mind.
Close enough now, her scent reached him: a mix of freshly poured ale and something darker, smokier- a whisper of charred cedar lingered on her skin.
It wasn’t cloying or sweet like the perfumes other women wore; it was raw and earthy, grounding him as it stirred something primal deep within his chest. He swallowed hard against the sudden dryness in his throat and forced himself to speak.
“You’re…” His voice cracked, betraying his nerves. He cleared his throat and tried again. “You’re not what I expected.”
“And what did you expect?” she asked, her voice smooth but laced with amusement.
“I-” He hesitated, raking a hand through his hair. The words heavy on his tongue, unrefined and inadequate. “I don’t know. I mean… not this.” He gestured toward her like a fool, then regretted it. “Not you.”
Her eyebrows arched. “Not me?” she echoed, tilting her head to one side. A strand of hair fell across her cheek, and before he thought better of it, he reached out to brush it away.
His fingers froze an inch from her skin when he realized what he was doing. He let his hand drop back to his side, heat blooming across his face.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I didn’t think…” He trailed off again, cursing himself.
“Would what?” she pressed.
“Would speak to me again,” he admitted.
For a moment, she didn’t respond. Her eyes searched his face. Her brilliant green eyes narrowed as though weighing his sincerity. “Why not?”
“After how your friend acted and spoke to me, I figured she managed to warn you off me.”
“Warn me off?”
His gut clenched. He couldn’t tell if she was really as innocent as she sounded, or if it was a ruse of some sort.
“Yes. You know, Thor Odinson, bedder of women. Eternal Playboy. Loner who never wants attachments.”
Her eyes widened. “So, you sleep with lots of women?”
“Yes. I mean no. Well, yes, I used to centuries ago, but not in a long time.” Why had he said that? What in the nine realms was wrong with him?
“But that’s common knowledge about you?” she asked.
This was not the way he thought this conversation would go. Why was he talking about women he’d bedded? What was wrong with him?
She laughed. A low and melodic sound that sent a shiver down his spine. Not a laugh meant for show or politeness; it was genuine, warm in a way that made him want to hear it again to see if it would feel as good the second time.
“Well, I’m glad I am not your millionth conquest this decade.”
“Have I conquered you then?” he teased.
Her smile widened- a real smile now- and for the first time since approaching her, some of the tension left his body. Maybe he wasn’t hopeless after all.
“Sadly, it takes a lot more than getting me a mug of mead and helping me out of a house and down some steps for me to be conquered.”
“A lot more?”
“Yes. After all, what kind of lady do you think I am?”
All he focused on was her. The way her presence filled every empty space around him as though she belonged there. The way her eyes invaded him while her words remained teasing.
A moment passed. Then another, and finally her cheeks burned a beautiful shade of rose.
“So,” she said. “Are you going to keep staring at me? Or is there something you came here to say?”
He blinked, startled back to reality.
"I... I'm glad you made it back safe last night," he blurted.
What the hell was going on? That’s not what he wanted to say.
"Thank you." She folded her hands in front of her and shivered.
"Are... are you cold?" Without thinking, he ran his hands up her bare arms, making them pebble.
Their gazes connected, and something inside him moved.
A piece of him he'd buried away. One he'd sworn he'd never allow out again.
A part of him he'd thought he'd lost under the years and years of fighting and killing and drinking.
But somehow, the beautiful, timid creature brought that piece of him back from the brink of death.
She dropped her gaze to where his hands rested on her arms. "Why... does it feel like that when you touch me?"
"I don't know. Has it never happened to you before when someone touched you?"
She shook her head. "I've only ever been touched by two other people. Val and... someone else. And neither of them ever made my skin feel like embers were burning from underneath it."
Thor swiped his calloused thumb over her skin and waited for it to burst into flames.
"Where did you come from?" he asked.
"You're a god. And you have children of your own, so I'm told. I would think you'd know where babies come from."
He caught the tickle of a smile cross her lips again. "Is that a joke? Did you make a joke?"
She chuckled.
"You know what I mean. Where were you before you came here? Why did you decide to come to Midgard?"
She shrugged. "I'd never been. I wanted to see what it was like. Wanted to see what humans were like. I'd heard many tales of them throughout my life. I wanted to see for myself. Why did you move to Helheim?"
"Valhalla grew boring. I was restless. Centuries of fighting aren't erased because you go to paradise." He lifted a strand of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers.
"Why are you doing that?"
He peered into her bright eyes. "Do you want me to stop?"
Her eyebrows scrunched together. "I... I'm not sure."
* * *
Elle's head spun at his nearness, making her unable to think straight.
She'd never been touched so tenderly or intimately before.
The way his eyes clouded with pain and something else she'd never seen intrigued her and made her want to hold him close and hug his bad memories away.
But she played with proverbial fire. When he found out who she was-