Page 64 of Misbehaving With Minotaurs
Arkan nods, glittering eyes scanning my face. “And youhaveto consider this other role?”
I’m straying close to dangerous territory.
“It’s an excellent offer,” is all I say.
“Well.” Arkan grins at me. “I guess we’ll just have to make you a better one, then. Let me know what you need to keep you here, Manorin, and if I can make it happen for you, I will.”
I consider that as we talk through final logistics of the coach-off event. Catherine’s with the Hector triplets all day, painting signs for the team and distributing them around downtown. Arkan and I talk through glamouring downtown to really bring the feeling of game day to Main Street and Shifter Hollow.
But my mind’s never far from my Sunshine. If they give me this job, I’m taking it, and I need to remind her of that in no uncertain terms. Because, when I think about going home to the Gulch and coaching, I feel a mix of excitement and dread. I could come see her relatively easily, but it wouldn’t be the same. A coach has to live in the haven they coach in.
My dream of going back home doesn’t feel like it fits meanymore. Losing a chance with her would devastate me more than anything else.
By the time Arkan and I finish our meeting and finalize the details, I’m ready to stampede through the door to get back to the Annabelle and level set with Cath.
When we leave the shop, Arkan’s mate, Hana, stands outside. Her face lights up with a smile when she sees me. “Are you by chance headed back to the Annabelle?”
I nod, and she reaches down, slipping her hand through my elbow. “I’m gonna walk with you. Mate, I’ll find you after, alright?”
I look between them. “Why does this feel like some sort of intervention?”
Arkan grins. “Okay, bye!” Turning, he clip-clops off toward Main Street.
Hana smiles over at me. “Mmm, not an intervention. More of a ‘please don’t leave us with that asshole, and please do make Catherine the happiest female alive by staying.’”
I laugh as we cross Main and head up Sycamore. Looking up at the young centaur, I give her a bemused look. “You know, this is a conversation for me to have with Catherine before I have it with the rest of town.”
“I know,” Hana says lightly. “I’m just here to reiterate that Ever loves you, the leadership team came around very quickly, and we’re all in on a skyball program with you. But frankly,” she looks around, “I told Arkan if he even thinks about hiring that asshat, I’m gonna divorce him.”
“Harsh words from a species who usually mate for life.” I grin up at her.
“I would rather be single,” she says with a snort. “Being the Keeper’s mate keeps me busy, so I can’t play full-time. But I’d like to be considered for a backup, and I’d like to come to the practices.”
And here’s where things get a little tricky.
“I don’t know if I can agree to that, Hana,” I admit. “Even second-strings are full-time folks. They come to every practice, every meeting, every game.”
“I’d have to be an exception to that rule,” she says easily. “I’m just saying, if you’re down to the dregs, and you need a girl to step in, let it be me!”
I snort out a laugh, the ring in my nose quivering. “The dregs. Gods help me, I hope we don’t have any dregs on the team after I’m done recruiting.”
Hana smiles as we continue past the Community Garden and take a right toward the Annabelle. “You haven’t asked for my opinion, Manorin, but anyone with eyes can see the draw between you and Catherine. I’m as bossy as my husband is, maybe worse, so I say go for it, ya know? Get that love over the finish line, to use sports terms.”
I groan. “Hana, that was the worst analogy I’ve ever heard. Stick to regular words, please.”
She winks at me as we arrive at the Annabelle, who waggles her primed shutters. I take my leave of Hana and jog up the front steps, calling for Catherine.
Annabelle waves the stair runner, indicating I should head upstairs. Instinct tells me to follow her lead, and I do all the way to the third-floor attic that Catherine occupies.
When I knock, quiet footsteps let me know she’s inside.
It shocks me how nerves fill me every time I get to see her. A few hours apart are enough to make me crave her presence.
She swings the door open with a paint brush in one hand, and I grip the frame as her scent wraps around me like a blanket and drags me toward her. She’s drenching the air in pheromones. They practically drip like honey from her, reducing me to pure sensation and emotion as I stare deep into those gray eyes.
“I’m here to beg for the job,” I manage, pushing into the room far enough to pull her curvaceous body against mine.
She spins and takes my hand, pulling me into the room as I stare in awe. Two entire walls are covered in paintings of Ever. Stacks of canvases lie everywhere, and open paint cans sit in a corner. A partially finished painting of the view from my property back home sits on an easel.
