Page 22 of The Orc That Got Away

“I think that time flies when you’re falling in love,” he says quietly.

I stare at Bradford, his eyes closed, his mouth relaxed. And I realize how right his words feel. “Yeah,” I murmur. “I think you’re right.”

12

RAGNAR

Iwake up, feeling fresh and renewed despite being awkwardly tangled in crisp white hotel bed sheets. The heavy pressure resting on my arm stirs slightly. I smile down at Bradford, unwilling to wake him up just yet.

He looks magnificent like this. Somehow, even asleep, the man is the picture of stunning perfection. Bradford’s hair is messy and tangled around us both, yet it comes off as intentional. His mouth, which hangs slightly open, is cradled by pouty lips slightly swollen from the previous evening’s affair. Even his gentle snores are endearing! How could one man be so perfect?

Sunlight streams into the room and dances delicately on his long eyelashes. I hesitate to end this moment, afraid if it ends it’ll end for good. This whole thing still feels like some wonderful dream. What if I wake up Bradford, and I wake up alone in Gorlag’s house? If this is a dream, then I want to stay asleep forever.

Bradford wakes with a sharp inhale, blinks his eyes open, and stares right up at me. He rubs at the corner of his eye for a moment before settling back into my side and sighing.

“Good morning,” he says.

My anxiety relaxes as I sink back into the mattress, content in knowing all of this is truly real. “Morning.”

“Or what’s left of it,” Bradford says with a pitch of stress in his voice. I turn to look at the clock in his line of sight. It’s almost eleven. I feel my own pang of anxiety. The thought of sleeping in this late, ever, fills me with dread. Even though I have nothing that must be done immediately, the thought of running late is still so inherent in my mind.

“Are you late for something?” I ask.

Bradford lets out a short laugh and shakes his head, nuzzling into my chest. “Nah. It’s just that the hotel restaurant stopped serving breakfast twenty minutes ago. And I could really go for an omelet”

This also elicits a chuckle from me, and I gently stroke my hand through Bradford’s hair in consolation.

“The diner down the street serves breakfast all day. I’m told it’s to die for.” And if Gorlag, who once dined exclusively on sushi and imported cheese, says a backwoods diner is good, it’s probably good.

“Aren’t the people here biased though?” Bradford asks coyly.

“Look, you want an omelet after ten in a town with only one post office, your options are limited.” I stretch out and attempt to finally sit up, but Bradford seems to have other ideas.

He trails his fingertips up my chest and rests his palm on my collarbone, pushing me back into the pillow and adjusting himself over me.

“Maybe I want that omelet after noon, actually,” he whispers. “Or hell, maybe even later.”

“Oh?” I ask innocently. “That seems a little late in the day, even by brunch standards.”

Bradford smirks. “Brunch is a state of mind,” he says with a goofy smile. “And maybe I want something else as a little appetizer first.” He leans down and takes my lips in his. We stay there for what feels like an hour, just locked together and making out, feeling each other's warmth under the thin sheets. It almost feels like we’re going to have a round two when a loud knock pummels on the door.

“Shit!” Bradford squeaks, startled.

“Housekeeping!” A woman’s voice yells from the other side.

“No thank you!” Bradford yells back, face going red as he tries and fails to untangle himself from the sheets.

Again she knocks frantically and yells. “Housekeeping!”

“He said no thank you,” I bellow, my deeper orc voice carrying much stronger than his.

There’s a slight pause before we hear the housekeeper’s cart being wheeled away. Bradford sighs in relief before falling, naked from the mattress and onto the floor.

“Ugh, I thought we were going to have a really awkward moment there.” He grabs his bathrobe from the desk and makes his way to the bathroom. I chuckle at the thought of some poor underpaid woman walking right into this scene.

“That probably would’ve made her day,” I reply, getting myself out of bed now.

Bradford laughs as he returns. “I’ll make it even better by leaving a large tip.” He fixes the sheets and blanket and squirms back under until he’s pressed flush against my side.

---