Chapter 11

Rhokar

It's been over twenty-four hours since I almost kissed Ella, and I still can't stop thinking about it.

It hasn't stopped me from working or responding to the world around me, but every spare moment in which my attention isn't directly occupied, the memory of her soft body pressed between me and the car resurfaces. The way her breath hitched with anticipation for me, her eyes wide and pupils dilated, lips parted and waiting for mine.

It's worse than a distraction. It's an obsession.

I need to grip my fingers around her again, feel the way her soft flesh molds beneath my touch. I'm becoming obsessed with Ella Davis, and it just keeps getting worse.

I didn't come into the office yesterday, deciding to shove a bunch of meetings into the same day for reasons only involving efficiency, and having absolutely nothing to do with a certain blue-eyed, chocolate-haired beauty that works for me, whose lips are so soft you wouldn't expect that they could exert such delicious pressure when she did that thing with her tongue—

I clench my fists, clench my jaw, clench my whole body, in an attempt to brute-force the stray memory of our night two years ago out of my head, as I stalk across our co-working office space and power towards my private office.

Stop. This is beyond pathetic.

But then the object of my desires smacks clean into my chest in a scatter of blueprints and papers through the air, and we both freeze and very deliberately do not

look at each other as they settle to the floor around us.

Once more my fists clench, and then slowly release.

I kneel and begin picking up the spilled papers, staring only at the mess and thinking of nothing else but the mess, and certainly not remembering what happened between us the last time I dropped to my knees before her.

"Clumsy," I mutter under my breath, and she follows suit and begins picking up the papers.

"It's fine," she says back quietly, uncertainly. "You didn't mean to."

My eyes shoot towards her. "I was talking about you."

"Me? You're the one barreling through the office without watching where you're going."

"I'm an orc. I'm three times your size, how on earth did you not see me coming?"

She rolls her eyes and shuffles a stack of papers to fit more neatly between her grip. "You're right, when the Hulk comes smashing through an innocent office space, I should pay more attention for the sake of my safety."

I snort as I grab the last of the blueprints. "You've got some energy to you this morning. I assume you've been eating a proper dinner like a good girl?"

Her lips part, her eyes narrow, and she jumps suddenly up and away from me. I follow more sedately and hold my bundle toward her.

"You'd better watch your words with me, sir, " she huffs, her chin tilting and her eyes blazing with challenge, with heat…but without any animosity. "Or else I might just start acting pleasant."

Oh, so we're using our words at dinner against each other now, are we? I scoff. "Pleasant? You? I doubt you have the ability."

She snatches the blueprints from my grasp and turns away, muttering, "You wouldn't know pleasant if it bit you in your grumpy ass."

I continue towards my office without looking back, pretending I didn't hear her, or the responding stage-whisper from one of the other workers. " You need to stop fighting with him, you're going to lose your job !"

I click my office door shut, and the smirk I'd been fighting blooms across my lips.

But by the time I make it to my desk, it's faded once more. Especially as I notice the pleasant buzz coursing through me, as if I'd been flirting instead of fighting.

This is exactly the kind of interaction I should be avoiding.

When my phone buzzes in my pocket I'm glad for the distraction, and I click to receive the call at the same time that I register my mother's caller ID flashing across my screen. I cringe, and then bring the phone to my ear.

"Hi," I mutter.

"Good morning, darling! It's so nice to hear your voice after so long," she says, all pleasant attitude and deliberate digs. "You know, since you didn't answer the last three times I called. Or bothered to call me back."

I can practically hear

her raising her eyebrow, and I rub at my temple. "I hear you, Mom. Sorry."

"Oh, it's alright. I assume you've been busy with your new project. I just miss you, I don't mean to nag."

My chest warms, and my traces of irritation settle. "Have you been well?"

"Yes, yes, everything's fine here with your father. His limp is mostly gone now after that fall down the stairs, he's practically good as new."

I glance at my watch, and then immediately feel guilty at my desire to end the conversation already. "That's good to hear. Is he home now?"

"Golfing," she replies, and I hear the sound of mugs clinking in the background. "Oh, did I tell you the news? Mrs. Longspear from next door just helped deliver her second grandbaby a few days ago! Isn't that wonderful?"

My guilt immediately disappears. I know exactly where this is going.

"Two grandchildren already, and she's five years younger than me. Can you believe it?"

"I'm very happy for her," I say stiffly, glancing at my watch again.

"If only I was blessed with the same miracle from my only son…"

"Mom," I huff, and begin looking in my desk drawer for my tablet. I might as well review some of the files downloaded there from yesterday, while I'm getting a motherly grilling. "I'm never getting married. I've already told you this."

"Oh, you always were so stubborn, Rhokar," she snorts. "What you need is a good Fated Mates match to come along and force your hand."

"I've met every orc female in town. If it was going to happen, it would have happened by now."

She heaves out a sigh. "You know just as well as I do that Fated matches aren't limited to race anymore, not for over forty years."

"The chances are—"

"Just as likely as any other match! You know, you have it so easy these days. No hiding from the mundanes, no sneaking about in glamours to hide your differences, or locking yourself in remote fae towns and never leaving the borders. You have the world at your feet, and yet you still hide away like it was the old days!"

"Mom…"

The distinct clinking of my mother's mugs starts up again, followed by the sound of a spoon hitting ceramic, and she sighs once more.

"Aren't you lonely, my dear?"

Her words strike a chord, tugging painfully at my chest, and I frown and slam my desk drawer harder than I'd meant to.

"I worry for you. If you could find a good woman to come home to every day, I'd feel a lot better."

"Oh, well, if that's what you want…"

She chuckles. "Didn't think that would work. Will you be bringing her over to meet me this weekend, then? Or the next?"

I roll my eyes and stand, deciding to check my car for my tablet. "Don't get your hopes up. I've probably met her before and passed right by, never to see her again, knowing my luck."

"You absolutely have not."

I open my door and step out with a sigh.

"Don't you remember any of the stories I used to tell you? There isn't a possible chance you wouldn't notice a connection like that. The activation of your heartstring, like a tug in your chest, would pull you towards her with a force you couldn't ignore."

I stop walking, for some reason feeling a chill shoot through my spine.

"Her scent would be like the most irresistible elixir to you—there's no way your body would be capable of missing it, even if she were hidden in a crowd of hundreds. You'd seek her out before you even knew what you were doing."

I rub at my chest and then force my feet to start walking again, scowling and unsure why my heart is thumping so hard at her words, adrenaline shooting through my system as if in warning.

"And then once you found her, you wouldn't be able to let her go, no matter how stubbornly you might insist, which is of course exactly what you need.

You'd be too driven to protect and nurture. To look after her, feed her, hold her, until finally, the overwhelming urge to perform the Claiming Chase would take you, and then—"

"Alright," I rasp, hitting the button for the elevator absently, my mind feeling oddly hazy. "Stop."

"Why? Do you think you've felt something like that before?"

I enter and turn, and Ella appears in my line of site, rushing towards the elevator and waving at me to hold the door. Of its own accord, my arm darts out to hold it open, and she steps in beside me with a smile.

"I've got to go." I hang up without waiting for my mother's goodbye, and the elevator doors close.

"Thanks," Ella murmurs, still shuffling the papers in her arms.

"You're welcome."

I'm more acutely aware of her beside me than I've ever been before. My heart hammers against my ribs.

We descend in silence. The doors open. But when she dips out ahead of me, she drops a pamphlet to the floor, and I scoop it up and stride towards her, touching her shoulder.

"Hm?" She stops and looks over at me. For some reason, I'm incapable of speech, and I hand the brochure over. It's for the monthly flea market at Heartwood Grove in the center of town this Saturday.

"Oh!" She smiles as she notices what I'm holding. We've stopped close enough to the exit that the morning sunlight falls across her face, making her bright blue eyes glow, and I can't look away.

"Yeah, I was thinking to go this weekend." She takes the brochure back, her fingers brushing mine with a spark of electricity that she doesn't appear to notice, as she studies the happy pictures of couples on the front. She starts walking, and I fall into pace beside her. "I wasn't sure if I would brave it alone, though."

"I'll take you," a quiet voice says, and I wonder who spoke, until her steps slow and she turns to look at me again.

"Really? You want to?"

I open the door for her. "Yes."

Her smile is quick to warm her face, and she remains outside, haloed by the sun, waiting for me to step out with her.

"I'd love to, Rhokar. Thank you."

I walk into the light, letting the door swing shut behind me.

"I'll pick you up." Someone speaks with my voice again, and all I can do is stare at her in a haze and wonder what's come over me.