Thora and Odin Play Cards…Again

Odin

My muscles scream at me after a rough practice, but I’m on my way back to the flat to my feisty girl and the surprise she hinted at when she texted me this morning. It’s been a hell of a year, living abroad with her.

I knew life with Thora would be awesome, but I wasn’t expecting the thrill of being with her to stay this fresh. Each time she flares her nostrils at me, my entire body hums with energy and desire. And I make sure to give her enough banter to keep those nostrils flapping. 

I open the heavy wooden door and drop my gym bag on the floor, looking up to see Thora seated at the small table in our one-room flat. Well, it’s her flat. I’m not supposed to live here. We sort of use my place as storage and spend most of our time at hers. 

Thora taps her fingers on a small, wrapped gift on the table and I grin. “Is that for me?”

She nods. “Consider it an early birthday present. I saw it in London when I was down to see Fern the other day.”

I arch a brow at her. “Should I shower before I open this present?”

Thora shakes her head. “You should not.” And then she licks her lips and I speed across the room, making grabby hands until she tosses me the box. 

I sit on her lap, causing her to groan and holler under the weight of me. “Get off, you giant ox!” Her voice is muffled as I lean back a little before hopping to my feet and planting a kiss on the top of her head. I sit on the other chair and hook my ankles around the legs of hers, pulling her chair so she’s as close to me as possible, given the circumstances. 

I peel back the paper and Thora groans impatiently. I was going to rip it open but now that I can see she’s antsy I decide to take my time, pulling impossibly slowly. But once I see the corner of the box I gasp in surprise and then pull the paper off in one rip. “Is this … a special edition of Taco Cat?”

Thora cackles. “This one is Moose Match Mayhem. And I will dominate.”

“You wish, Janssen.” I use my teeth to open the plastic wrap around the small box of cards from the maker of my very favorite game, ever since I beat Thora at it and she gave me a private show. “What’re the stakes today?”

She taps at her chin. “Loser has to finish packing our stuff for the move?” We both finish our programs in a few weeks and have been gradually boxing up our random acquisitions to ship home. But we both know neither of us going to stick the other with that monumental task. I shake my head, balling up the plastic wrap and chucking it toward the bin by the door. 

Thora’s brows sink as she thinks, although I find it hard to believe she didn’t dream up a prize in the unlikely chance she beats me at this game. “If I win, I can skip Wyatt’s next game and watch Gilmore Girls alone in bed all day.” I flip her the bird, because we both know she’s not skipping a chance to hang out with Fern in the fancy suites in London Stadium. She laughs and tilts back in her chair, a sly smile spreading across her face. “When I win, you do the Magic Mike dance for me.”

I laugh. “XXL or Last Dance?” 

She shrugs. “Loser’s choice.”

I’m not even worried about it because there’s no way I’m going to lose. But now I have to think about what I want when I beat her at this slap-happy card game. I lick my lip, tasting the sweat on my skin after my workout. What should I ask from her? What could I possibly win that I don’t already have with this amazing woman? We’re moving back to the States soon and she’s going to law school while I hit the job market. We’ve done every sexual thing we could think of, and it’s been incredible every single time because Thora is indeed a goddess.

There’s really only one thing left that I want and I had been planning to wait a bit to ask her for it. She’s still working through a lot of stuff, but we are pretty solid in our commitment to doing that together. Indefinitely. But we haven’t finalized anything …

I sigh and set the box of cards on the table. “Do I have to say what we’re playing for ahead of time?”

She scoffs. “Of course you do, Stag. That’s how this works.”

I exhale through my nose and slide the box of cards toward her. “Okay then.”

I stand from my chair and kick it back to give myself room, and I sink to one knee in between her legs. She tips the chair back to the ground. “Odin, what are you doing?”

I grin. “Well, sweetheart, I’m not changing a tire.”

Thora brings her hands up to her mouth and her eyes fly wide. “Odin, what are you doing down there?”

I reach around her for the table by our tiny loveseat, pulling open the wooden drawer and extracting a small black box I stashed in there after I picked it up on our weekend trip to Iceland. I wanted her to see the Northern Lights for her birthday and I practically had to pry her away from the library to do it, but she cried as we stood on the black sand beach and looked up at the purple and green shimmering through the sky. That’s how her face looks right now—shimmering, majestic, utterly captivating. 

I open the box, revealing the band set with Icelandic lava. I have another one in my size, just in case. The interiors are blue and green and purple, like the aurora borealis. Thora stares down at the run in my big hand and I bring one hand to her knee, rubbing her gently with my thumb. “I’m not going to say ‘when I win’ because we both know I always win.” She snorts and starts to cry a little bit and I smile. “But the best prize I can think of would be you agreeing to spend your life with me, Thora Janssen.” I hold up the ring. “I thought of you when I saw this lava ring, because you are beautiful despite—no, because of your harsh background. You’re a force of nature, and I’m the luckiest man on earth to go with your flow.”

Thora groans and tugs on my arms until I’m kissing her. I let her, nibbling on her lip, until I pull back. “Wait, I didn’t get to finish.”

She groans. “Hurry up, Stag, and get to the point.”

I lean back and reach for her left hand and squeeze it with one of my hands, holding up the ring with my other. “Thora, will you marry me?”

She nods as the tears fall down her cheeks, and I slide the ring onto her finger. And then our arms are wrapped around each other and her mouth is on mine and everything is perfect. 

Until she pushes me back, climbs back into her seat, and starts shuffling the cards. “I still want to play this game,” she says as I struggle to compose myself. “How about if you win I scrub your Spear of Heaven in the shower?”

I sink into my own chair, nodding. “You’re on.”

Thank you for reading Forging Chaos and falling in love with Odin and Thora! I hope you’ll stick around for Gunnar’s story, Playing for Keeps.