Page 1 of Longing for the Minotaur
CHAPTER
ONE
VALENTINA
Banon has always been an asshole, and today is no different.
“Tina-a-a-a-a!” he shouts from the window of his car. He still calls me that, even though I’ve long since switched to “Val.” Back in high school, everyone called me “Tiny Tina,” including Banon, and it made me hate my own nickname. So I picked a different one.
Valentina is flexible like that, which I’m grateful for now.
One of my college friends cocks an eyebrow, probably wondering why I’m answering to the name “Tina.” I wave at her as I head toward Banon’s car and open the passenger-side door.
It’s messy in here as always, with abandoned Hogburger wrappers and Taco Heaven bags lining the floors. He has a few stupid doohickeys on the dashboard that wobble and wiggle as I shut the door and Banon puts the car in drive.
“Don’t call me that here,” I snap at him.
“Call you what? By your name?”
“It’sVal,” I enunciate clearly, though I know he knows and he’s just trying to get a rise out of me. “Come on, man.”
He raises his hands off the steering wheel in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Old habits die hard. I mean, I’ve called you Tina since you were twelve.”
Don’t I know it. That’s always what I’ve been—Tina-a-a-a!Just an annoying little stepsister he taunts from a car window. But the thing that’s always been most painful?
How gorgeous my jackass stepbrother is. Everyone knows it, including him, which is both part of the reason he’s such an asshole, and part of the reason I still let him get away with what he does.
He just looks so pretty doing it.
I’d never tell a soul that, of course. I just nod along whenever my college friends get a glimpse of him and remark how hot he is.
“Minotaur daddy right there,” my friend Natasha said once after Banon dropped me off. I’m just in college and I still live on campus, so I don’t have a car of my own.
“Do not call my stepbrother ‘daddy,’” I warned her.
“Sorry. Just calling the shots like I see them. He’s like four or five years older, right?”
Right. He’s always been one hundred percent out of my league, not just because he’s way hotter than I am, but also because he’s much older.
Well, and other barriers, obviously.
But Natasha was absolutely correct. Banon is big—bigger than big. Fully jacked, and I would know because I’ve seen how much time he spends at the gym. His fur is buckskin brown, almost more of a gold, with shaggy blondish hair and two big, black horns. His eyes are radiant blue. I could draw him from memory if I had to.
Banon roars away from the curb in that annoying way he always does. I don’t even bother to try to correct his driving or ask him to slow down anymore. He won’t do it. Well, he will fora few minutes, then get distracted by talking and speed up again, ripping around curves and blowing yellow lights.
I just hang on for dear life and listen as he starts telling me all about his last football practice. He didn’t get drafted his last year of college, and now he plays in the minor leagues, trying to get noticed. I think he should have given up after he didn’t get drafted, but nobody can tell Banon what to do. He is the definition of a minotaur: stubborn and driven.
In the meantime, though, he works for a moving company, picking up heavy boxes and furniture all day. He’s really perfect for it, and he’s not the kind of guy who could work an office job where he has to sit in one place all day.
“We still have cheerleaders, you know.” His mane puffs up a little. “The squad captain hit on me after the game the other night.”
A familiar surge of jealousy rushes through me. I know it’s ridiculous, just like every other time Banon’s gotten attention from a girl, but I can’t help it.
“Good for you,” I say, rolling my eyes to disguise how put out I feel.
“Hey, aren’t you happy for me? She has a really great ass.”
I stick out my tongue. Exactly the opposite of what I wanted to hear.
