Page 50 of Forging Chaos

The rest of the day is a lot of the same. I repeatedly get to say, “I’m Thora Janssen, Rhodes Fellow.” I like it when people are visibly impressed by my achievements. I could get used to this, I think. But it will take some time. I have to physically restrain myself from hopping up to get everyone a tray of water glasses at lunch and I thank the staff too profusely when someone serves tea in the afternoon.

I am grateful for a lull in conversation as people sip their tea, and I take the opportunity to step back from the cluster of other international students. I stand in the window, sipping, looking out at the people milling around campus. The professors here really do wear their academic regalia, or at least they’re wearing it today, billowing around campus in bright red gowns and velvet caps.

Amidst the bustle, I think I see a familiar man limping, but I convince myself it’s just the jet lag. There will be no massive football players here, with or without knee rollers.

But then I hear a scraping sound, and I turn to see a man walking with a cane, entering the room and sort of dragging a cast on his right leg. He’s tall and fit, with bright blue eyes and a smile that has everyone in the space walking over to greet him.

Except me. I stand with a trembling hand; not sure I can trust my eyes until he approaches, and I catch a whiff of him. Cedar and lime and, well, swagger ooze from Odin Stag. I drop my cup to the ground when I see that it’s really, truly him standing here in front of me. In England. He stoops to pick up the cup with his non-cane hand. “Pretty sturdy. I’m impressed it didn’t break,” he says, setting the cup on the windowsill.

“What are you doing here?” All I can do is hiss at him in disbelief.

“Well, I didn’t come to mop up spilled tea, that’s for sure, Janssen.” He leans against the wall and smirks at me like we’re just joking around on campus in Pittsburgh.

“What are youdoinghere?” I repeat, crossing my arms and looking around to see if people are staring. Some are, in fact.

“I joined the crew team,” he says with a shrug, and I swat him in the shoulder. He grins. “I’m serious.”

I scowl and take a deep breath. “Enough, Odin. That team is for students.”

He grins even bigger, flashing dimples. I realize he’s wearing pants for the first time since I got to know him. He’s a whole mood, in dark jeans and a nice shirt beneath a blazer that hugs his shoulder muscles. He’s got a leather belt on, and my traitorous brain creates an image of him whipping it off and dropping it on the floor with a clank as he opens his pants.

“Right,” he says, reminding me that I’m in public. “I alsoenrolled in a sports psychology program here. Did you know they let masters students compete in sports in the UK? I’m a catch.”

I blink at him, trying to understand what he’s saying. That he, too, is a student. Here. Where I am a student. Close by. He leans in close and whispers. “Catch. That’s a rowing joke. It slaps with the lads.” And then he winks at me, and I can’t take it anymore. I spin on my heel and walk out of the room.

CHAPTER 37

ODIN

“Thora, wait!”I trot after her as fast as I’m able with this walking boot. I’m making a ton of noise with this thing, but she only gets as far as the stairs before I can reach her shoulder with my palm. “Can I talk to you?”

When she turns around, I see she’s crying, and she crosses her arms over her body, shivering.

“Hey.” I pull her close and wrap my arms around her, letting my cane drop to the ground and not caring what happens to it. “I swear I’m not trying to be creepy.”

“You followed me to another continent?”

I shrug. “Lots of places have sports psychology master’s…but I was kind of limited with my options for schools thatalsohave crew teams where I can compete.”

“What about your foot?” She burrows her face in my shoulder and inhales, and I tuck this knowledge away that Thora likes how I smell.

“I’ll be out of this boot and mostly functional by October,” I explain. “I might not ever run again, but rowing is a whole different thing.” I grip her shoulders and hold her a forearm’s length away so I can look into her eyes. “Thora, I can compete in something. Competition has been my whole life. My wholelife. I thought that was over and gone. Rowing this summer has been huge for me.”

She sniffs. “I’m really happy for you then.”

She bites her lip and looks off to the side and I place a finger under her chin, turning her so she faces me. “But none of it has been anywhere near as great as I feel when I’m with you, Janssen.” She blinks. “You light me up. And I wanted to be close to you.” I watch her inhale a shaky breath. “If you don’t want me here, I’ll leave. I have some options in Cardiff, and if I really have to, I can go to Stirling up in Scotland, but it’ll be cold as balls, and I’d much rather be close to you. If you’ll have me.”

Thora doesn’t say anything for a long time. She just stares at me and opens and closes her mouth. But she doesn’t wriggle out of my grasp or move her hands from where she anchored them near my elbows. I take a deep breath. “And I’m sorry I was sneaky about the grant. I just really think you’re awesome, and I wanted to do something nice for you but not have you feel beholden to me or something.” Again, silence. “So…is it okay? That I’m here?”

“You did all that to be near me?”

I nod. Tears are really starting to flow out of her eyes now and I want to dab them away but it’s my turn to feel frozen in place.

“Odin…nobody has ever done anything like this for me before.”

Her confession has me beaming, and I pull her close again, putting my mouth close to her ear. “Well, Thora, nobody has ever charged up my lightning rod like you before.”

She groans at the bad Norse pun, but I know I’m in now. I tip up her face again and kiss her like I’ve been wanting to for weeks. Ever since she ran out on me at my family’s ski house. I sweep my tongue into her mouth as I pull her close and she gasps when she feels me hard against her belly.

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