Page 47 of Bred By the Minotaur
“It’s all right,” I say, backing off. “You don’t have to show me.”
She shakes her head. “It’s okay. I just... I lost all my art in the fire. This is the first piece I’ve tried to do for myself since then, and I already feel rusty.” After hesitating, she turns the tablet to face me. It’s a canvas covered in foliage, each edge neat and crisp. I’m amazed at how many individual plants there are in the rainforest she’s created. It has depth and dimension.
“Oh, there’s a monkey,” I say, pointing to a little brown head hiding behind a leaf. “And is that part of a tiger?”
“Yeah.” She turns the tablet back toward herself and continues drawing even while she’s speaking. “I’m making it for Milo, so he can pick out all the animals.”
I bite my lip. She’s making it hard to stay in my own chair. I’m overwhelmed by how much there is to Phoebe, how many layers she has waiting to be peeled apart and discovered. My heart wants to know all of her, just like my body does.
Fuck. I flare my nostrils and set my teeth. I can’t keep holding this all in. I have to try.
“Phoebe,” I start, and her head jerks up. I realize I’ve been silent for the last five minutes, and she’s gone back to drawing. “Sorry. I just... I mean, I want to say...” I’ve never been great at words, but this is especially bad.
“What is it, Hank?” she says, her blue eyes gazing up at me. Instantly, my cock starts to slide out of its sheath under my jeans.
“I, um...” I take a few deep breaths. “Phoebe, I really like you. I like you a lot. And I think you like me, too.”
Her mouth falls open.
“Hank...” she begins, her face falling, but I don’t want her to finish—not with that tone of voice.
“Please, just give it a chance between us,” I barrel on. “We don’t have to tell anyone. Milo doesn’t have to know. My mom doesn’t have to know. We can keep it quiet, and then if it doesn’t work out, it’s?—”
“Okay.”
I’m not sure I heard her right, so I flick my ears forward and cock my head. “Okay?”
“Okay. Let’s try it.” Phoebe puts down her stylus.
That’s not what I expected her to say, so I sit there like an idiot for a good five seconds before I finally catch up.
“Really?” I don’t know why I’m asking, because I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
Phoebe snickers, then gets out of her chair. “How many times do I need to say it? But you have to promise me something.”
I hold out my hand to her. This is my opportunity and I’m not going to fuck it up. “Anything.”
“Promise me it won’t get weird. That if something happens between us... I don’t want this to change. I can’t afford a place of my own, not until the house is done.”
I think my mouth falls fully open. “I would never make you move out, Phoebe.”
But she doesn’t relent. “Please, promise me.”
I take two steps toward her, then sweep up her hand in mine. “I promise. No matter what happens between us, you can stay here as long as you want. You’ll always have a place in this home.”
Her face relaxes, and a shy smile takes over. She squeezes my fingers in return and closes the gap between us.
“Then show me this something more,” she says.
Seventeen
Phoebe
I’m doing something supremely stupid, but I just can’t help myself. Not with the meek way Hank asked me. It was impossible to say “no” to that face, his ears pressed back, his big, brown eyes looking anywhere but at me because he was so embarrassed.
His hand is warm and big enough that mine vanishes into his palm when he closes his fingers. Hank glances down at the place we’re linked, and one of his rare smiles tugs at the corners of his muzzle.
“You’re so beautiful, Phoebe,” he says, so low and quiet I have to strain to hear him. “I’ve been thinking it since the moment I saw you.”
