Page 25 of Longing for the Minotaur
“My stepsister, Valentina.” I back away, heading over to where Val is waiting by the curb. “We’re, uh, going out to dinner to celebrate my win.”
“Oh, that’s fun!” Her expression totally changes now that she doesn’t think Val is a threat. “Maybe I could come along?”
This is the second person trying to get in the way of our nice dinner, and I’m starting to get pissed.
“No.” I say it flatly, without room for argument, and Megan’s mouth bobs open. “Bye. See you at the next game.”
Then I turn and head off toward the car, wishing I could grab Val’s hand and pull her along with me.
CHAPTER
TEN
VALENTINA
Iknew right away when I saw that cheerleader invading my boyfriend’s personal space that she’s the one with the nice ass. Banon must have been cruising to hook up with her before Thanksgiving.
A part of me deflates, seeing her up close. She’s really fucking hot. Insanely hot. Her hair was up in a ponytail but still a million times more put-together than mine, with flouncy little curls. She had a long, shapely neck, normal-sized tits, and a body with absolutely perfect proportions, like a cover model.
She’s definitely Banon’s type, with dark brown hair and brown eyes, golden-brown skin and…
I blink as we walk to the car. Hmm. I guess that could also describeme, if I were taller and had skinnier thighs.
“Don’t think anything about it,” Banon says, breaking the silence as we approach his car in the lot. “I can see the gears turning in your head.”
“Think what about what?” I ask innocently.
“About Megan. I never hooked up with her.”
I raise both my hands. “I didn’t say you did.”
“I know. But I just want to be clear. I really haven’t been with anyone but you since last year.”
It’s sweet that he’s trying to reassure me, and my ego does appreciate it after seeing what that girl had on display.
The moment we’re both in the car, Banon shuts the door and grabs my hand in his.
“I want you to really understand,” he says in a stern tone, staring me dead in the eyes. “None of those girls matter to me, Valentina.”
I still love when he says my name like that. I stroke his big hand.
“I think I get it.” He’s worried about the compromising position I found him in, worried that I doubt how he feels. “And thank you. Now can we get some dinner and then go back to your place?”
“Of course. Rich is gone for the whole weekend, so we have the apartment to ourselves.”
It’s been getting trickier and trickier, coming up with excuses to tell my friends for why I’ve been gone all the time—and why Banon is always the one picking me up. One day, the story was that we were going to help my parents hang up Christmas lights. Another was picking out a Christmas tree. Then seeing Banon’s game, which was technically true, but did earn some questions about why I now suddenly cared about seeing him play when I’d talked a lot of shit about him before.
But it’ll be Christmas break soon, and then it will get even trickier to keep it a secret from Marissa and my dad. Banon will keep working and living at his apartment, but I’ll be staying at their place until school starts up again in January. It’s going to look super suspicious if Banon and I are together all the time after spending the last few years barely acknowledging each other.
I sure hate that we have to keep this a secret. I said it would all be fine, that I could handle it if it meant we got to have the relationship that we want—but it’s going to be a long break without getting to hook up two or three times a week.
The first time Banon comes to visit for the evening, we go on a long “walk” together to enjoy the fresh snow. Marissa makes sure we’re both wearing scarves before sending us off. The first thing we do is scurry to the park, then Banon grabs my hand and leads me off-road. He’s not wearing boots—given the hooves and fur and all—and it’s fairly deep.
“Don’t you get cold?” I ask, gesturing to his feet.
“Me? No.” He snorts. “I don’t have delicate little toesies likesomepeople.” He tickles me, making me squeal and giggle. Then his arms loop around my back, bringing me in close to his jacket.
“But you get cold up here,” I say, fluffing the scarf around his neck. Marissa loves giving us scarves, even though we only ever wear them at her house.
