Page 3 of Knocked up By the Minotaur

Olistaire

I sigh and take a slow sip of my whiskey. “What a day.”

The Golden Griffin tavern bustles around me with life as I sit opposite Rhokar in our favorite booth, and cast my eyes over the warm, smoky bar. A small group of dwarves are here for after-work drinks tonight, and their baritone voices rise in song as they clink their ale and then burst into rumbles of laughter. The charming ambiance envelopes me, a welcomed treat after the harassment I’ve had to endure today.

“Don’t start with me, Oli,” the orc opposite me grouches, sending me a glare over the rim of his beer-mug. “I’ve been trying to contact you all day about the new build. Even swung by your office, and d’you know what your realtors told me?”

I can’t help a little smirk, and I raise my glass again. “What?”

“That you didn’t even bother to show up at the office today.”

I take another long sip. “I had business to attend to.”

“We’re building a fifty-room lodge together, you stubborn-headed bull. The least you could do is answer your calls. I need my partner.”

“And I need you too, sweetheart.” I reach over and grab his green fingers within my lightly furred grip. “You know you mean the world to me.”

Rhokar snorts and flicks my hand away, bottom lip twitching in annoyance against his tusks. “Fuck off.”

“But unfortunately, I was busy today.”

That’s the moment my phone chooses to light up with a call, ringing obnoxiously, and my ears flick forward in agitation as I turn it over on the table beside me, so I don’t have to see the screen.

“Isn’t that your girl?”

I scrunch my nose, feeling the gold, hooped nose-ring there shifting against my skin. “Sera is not ‘my girl’. I don’t have a girl, and quite frankly, I thought she’d understood that until recently.”

“Ah,” Rhokar grunts as my call dies out. “Isthat where you were today? Avoiding another lover?”

I frown. “You make me sound like some kind of player.”

“You are some kind of player.”

“Well, fine, but I only play with other players.” I slouch backwards in the booth and signal the lavender-haired pixie working the bar to refresh my drink. “We’d been through this, she wasn’t looking for anything serious, and neither was I. We were just two consenting adults looking for… tension relief.”

“Aren’t you a little old for this game?”

“How dare you,” I huff. “I’m still as handsome as ever.”

“Your fiftieth is just around the corner.”

“Stop calling me old, you’re only a year younger than me.”

Rhokar grins suddenly, and I already know what he’s about to say because he only ever smiles like that when thinking about one person. “But I already have a wife.”

A small, tiny, minuscule part of me feels potentially, maybe, just a little bit of longing for what he and Ella have. Fated Mates. The perfect connection, two people pulled together against all odds to complete one another.

But then, would I really want to be tied down to a single person for eternity like that?

I wave my hand dismissively, deciding to deflect the issue by annoying Rho. “Are you suggesting we share her?”

His expression immediately sours, and my good humor elevates. Gods, I love riling up this grumpy orc bastard.

“Whiskey, neat,” a feminine voice says, and we both turn towards Nib as she drops from the air beside us. Her opalescent wings buzz to a stop when she lands, the short, aptly named pixie cut of her lavender hair barely ruffling as she hands me my drink.

“Thank you, darling.” I down the remainder from my old tumbler and hand it back to her. “The drinks here always taste sweetest when you pour them.”

She flashes me a grin and cocks a hip. “Laying it on a bit thick today, aren’t you?”

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