Page 19 of My Orc Pen Pal

A part of me wished he would.

That’s not the point of these dates.

Right. He had three dates to convince me…what? That he was husband material? That we should be more than just a hook up? That we wereMates?

I stayed up too late, laughing with Akhmim and sharing stories. When he finally declared it was time to leave, so I could rest for work, he asked if he could leave the pottery wheels here. Apparently, he’d purchased them just for tonight and had no place to store them in the apartment he shared with three other orc males.

“I guess money isn’t an issue, huh?” I teased.

He deadpanned, “No, but space is. Eastshore needs more rentals.”

That issue had been at the center of last year’s mayoral race, and Sakkara was making some changes, judging by the new construction down near the marina. But thosecondos wouldn’t be ready any time soon, so I nodded and walked Akhmim to the door.

He paused and turned to me, his mouth opened, but he hesitated. Had he been about to ask me for a kiss?

I took a breath and offered an olive branch. “Can I have a hug, Akhmim?”

His expression softened, and it wasn’t until he exhaled that I realized he’d been carrying tension in his shoulders. “I’d like that,dkaar.”

As his warmth and strength enveloped me, I wondered at that word again.Dkaar. I needed to find out what it meant.

Because here and now? Surrounded by Akhmim and his strength? I felt…at peace. Safe. Happy.

Chapter 7

Akhmim

The restraintI had shown on Wednesday evening had been worth it, because I had my pen pal back. After those horrible few days of not hearing from her, I was getting emails from Rosemary at regular intervals now, which was wonderful.

Each time my phone dinged with a notification from her, I felt a little more at peace. I’d taken to working at the library, because the apartment was just too crowded, and I knew I needed a more permanent place. For one thing, I needed to set up my real computer, not just this tiny laptop. For another, I wanted to be able to talk to my Mate when she?—

Whoa. She hasn’t even given you her phone number to text, much less call. Much less agreeto be your Mate.

Something was holding her back, yes. But I could sense a weakening of her resistance.

In fact, on Thursday afternoon, right after school ended, I received this email:

Akhmim, it’s dumb to keep communicating only this way. Here’s my number. Text me.

It was all I could do to keep from howling in victory right there in the library. The head librarian was Mated to Luxor—the only male younger than me who came through the veil with our group—so she’d likely understand, but I was trying to be civilized.

A fist pump was good enough for now.

And so my conversations with Rosemary moved from email to text. This kept us busy throughout Thursday and Friday…and then, Friday evening, she called me.

It waswonderful.

Unwilling to share her with the other males, I went for a long walk, the phone cradled against my ear, as Rosemary and I talked about everything from family to work to recipes. I felt as if I could discuss the mundaneorthe mystical with her in equal parts, because she was my everything.

Sleeping on the couch in the living room of our shared apartment was made acceptable because I could now fall asleep while texting with her. Tomorrow, Saturday, was our second date, and I couldn’t wait to see her again.

But when the phone rang mid-morning, I knewsomething was wrong. “What is it,dkaar?” I asked as I picked up.

“Akhmim, I’mso sorry,” she wailed, “I have to cancel whatever you had planned today.”

I reacted to the panic in her voice. “It will be okay, Rosemary. I promise.”

“I’m sorry! I had so much fun with you last time, and I was looking forward to today…”

---