Page 36 of Knocked up By the Minotaur

“You certainly are.”

My heart makes a little tug, tug in my chest at those words, said so sincerely, and I firmly tell myself to stop being silly and sentimental. He means it objectively, as a friend who wants the best for another friend, and I can’t go adding my own interpretations to his words.

Jesus, this is exactly why I never should have let my defenses down with him in the first place. I’ll just have to work to keep my guard up from now on. We’ll go back to normal soon enough.

Chapter 14

Olistaire

I’ve… just been broken up with. I honestly don’t think that’s ever happened to me before. Well, it probably has and I just can’t remember it, since I likely wasn’t particularly bothered by the event.

Apparently, I’m bothered now.

I spent what is possibly the most incredible night with Grace that I think I’ve ever had, and now she says she’s done with me. But I am far, far from done. If anything, I want her more now than I ever did before, and that’s saying something, considering how obsessively my thoughts had been centered on her. She’s beautiful, she’s warm, she sets my body on fire and what’s more, I just want to be near her. Even simply talking to her satisfies a huge part of me, settles something in my chest. Since when do I invite women to breakfast after a night together? Never. But Grace had seemed ready to leave, and I hadn’t been ready to be away from her yet, so out came my invitation.

Was it a date? Had I asked her on a breakfast date, knowing it wouldn’t lead to anything physical—simply wanting to spend time in her presence?

I absently rub at my wrist as I cruise along the streets, thinking, with no clear destination in mind. I dropped her off at Rhokar’s and left without getting out of the car. Now, I can’t seem to decide what to do with myself.

Conversation during the rest of our meal had gone just fine, but I have to admit I’d felt flat. I still feel flat now. Flat, and…

Disappointed? Definitely. She has the body of a seductress and an instinctive, enthusiastic, raw way of lovemaking that is the most addictive thing I’ve ever encountered. She makes me feel desired beyond only what my performance can give. As if what she wanted wasme,rejecting foreplay and more pleasure just to have me closer… My heart twangs at the memory. I am more than just disappointed.

But, upset? Am I upset at the loss?

I consider this. Why would I be upset? It’s always just a physical thing with me, and the good thing is that physical is replaceable, to a degree. Sure, all females are beautiful and individual, bringing different quirks and pleasures with them, but in the end the rotation is equally gratifying. Constantly tasting new, exotic beauties… It’s what I like. Obviously.

And it’s better than what Father did, once he’d lost his Fated Mate. I’d never seen him with Mom, she’d died giving birth to me, but I did see him taking on one long-term relationship after the other for the convenience of having someone to look after me while he worked, and fucked anything else that moved on the side. I saw how that broke each and every partner he had, tore her up until she couldn’t stay any longer, not even for me. And then he’d simply start the process again with a new female.

It’s clear I don’t have fidelity in my genetics, so instead of trying to force it and ending up like the cold, calculated man who financed my upbringing, hurting innocent females along the way, I’ve embraced my nature and spared the emotions. It’s worked out fine for me.

Clearly, upsetisn’t quite the right description. It can’t be a feeling of loss that I’m experiencing, that wouldn’t make sense. So, what is it?

I head to the gym without going back home first, since I’m not ready to see all the places I had Grace folded and bent over last night, not until I get my head straight. I have my gym bag packed and ready in my car at all times, so I spend some time building up a sweat, soaking it off in the sauna afterwards, and then shocking my body with an ice-cold shower.

But it doesn’t help to clear my thoughts like usual.

I flick out my phone as I hop back in the car, and call Rho. It rings out, and then I get a text.

Kids are having a meltdown. Talk later.

See, this is why relationships aren’t for me! No peace, no free time… What are you even supposed to do with screaming children, anyway? I huff and start driving again.

Why am I so agitated? I decide to grab a coffee, just for something to do. Bitter Sweet is always bustling at this time of the day, especially on the weekend, and it’s because they undeniably have the best coffee in Whispering Pines, so I’m happy to wait in line.

I order my usual from the snow-white yeti behind the counter. Her fur is always gloriously styled in different waves and intricate patterns every day, her edges unfailingly crisp against the porcelain skin of her face and chest, but this morning I barely have the energy for my usual appreciation of her brand of beauty. I sigh, still feelingoff, when I notice Malachite’s all-black form enter the line for a take-away order. He spots me, and when his green eyes dart away awkwardly I smile. Not really very social, that one.

I wait on the side as they make my order, until eventually the gargoyle comes up the line and joins me.

I nod at him, and he clears his throat. “Having a good morning?”

“Not particularly,” I reply with a shrug. “I had the best sex of my life last night, but today I’ve been dumped.”

Malachite stares at me with a stony blankness that is either disapproval, shock, or… plain blankness, it’s hard to read.

“What about you?” I ask casually.

He blinks. “I’m… fine.”

---