Monsters Under Mistletoe

2. Shawna

Chapter 2

Shawna

I stare at my reflection with a critical eye, turning my hips ever so slightly to flex my thigh muscle. My cutoff ‘Freezy the Swoleman’ t-shirt is looking a little worse for wear this year, but it’s a classic holiday joke that always makes me smile. But these new leggings? They make me look hot as fuck. The pink material really highlights my figure and makes the pink in my hair POP. Hopefully hot enough to get the attention of a certain human male, but every time I talk to him I clam up and turn into a professional cheer bot.

Usually, I can force myself to be outgoing. Fake it ‘til you make it, that's how I got myself out of my shell at college and fell in love with the gym. But I'm still the awkward girl at 34. Apparently, that's not something I'll grow out of like my parents kept insisting I would.

I can barely talk to him, let alone ask him out. Orcs work a bit differently than humans, obviously. We know we’ve met our true mate when they perform an act of bravery for us. This can be anything in the modern day from a mate punching a lady’s lights out for being sexually inappropriate at a bar like one of my sister-in-laws did or something as simple as being the only person to sign up for my Dragon-Style Yoga class.

The difference between my brothers and I is that they had the gumption to actually make a move after it to prove that the act was ‘worthy’. Like with most things in our world, a bit of DNA swapping answers most questions. A simple kiss would reveal if Brody is my true mate.

But I’ve spent three years slowly falling in love with him and hoping he would see me as more than a gym friend.

My shoulders slump as I rub my hands over my face. Why am I like this? Why can't I be confident about these feelings? I can clean and jerk 150 kilos like it's nothing, demolish a bucket of the spiciest wings, but I can barely say anything cute to the man I've had a crush on for ages. Am I the most pathetic orc in Braewell?

Maybe.

“Mistletoes or garland?”

“Huh?” I uncover my eyes and see one of my two bosses smirking at me.

Kaldus knows about my crush, hell's bells, everyone who works here knows about my crush. It's no secret that I always work the 4am shift just because that's when he comes in. And that I always wear my best leggings and most hilarious cut off tees in hopes it makes Brody smile a little. He’s the type of guy who doesn’t smile enough, but has the most handsome grin.

This stupid minotaur likes to tease me when he sees me getting all caught up in my head like this. He's mated to an orc, the other co-owner of Olympic Fit, so he gets it on some level, but not everyone can be cool as a cucumber under pressure like he is.

“You wanna hang up mistletoe,” his voice trails off but he tilts his head towards the water fountains. Brody is filling up his massive bottle and my breath catches. Despite the freezing temperatures, he's wearing those short shorts again that show off his powerful thighs and the juiciest ass I have ever seen a male have. “Or do you wanna hang up the garland?”

I'm a bit too lost in staring at Brody as he heads for the cardio machines to answer Kal. My man is thick with muscles densely packed under a cosy soft layer of fat. The greying around his temples and his glasses give him the hottest professor vibes that I've definitely fantasised about in the shower. He sets up at his favourite machine and does some stretches, his shirt rising just a little to show off the happy trail on his stomach. My finger curls around one of my tusks when I think about where that line of hair leads.

Kaldus shakes the box. My eyes flick to the fake mistletoe and then back to Brody. He's in his own world. He barely knows I exist. I imagine if I caught him under the mistletoe he wouldn't do much more than walk away.

“Garland,” I sigh, taking the rolls of shiny red and gold decorations.