Page 60 of Knocked up By the Minotaur

“I didn’t do anything,” I huff, frowning, although a little twang in my lower regions suddenly informs me that it wishes I had. “He’s just… in his element.”

Her eyes soften as she regards me. “Did you tell him?”

Of course, I know exactly what she’s referring to and stomach plummets with nerves. “Not yet. I can’t just… In the middle of an important event like this, it isn’t fair on him. Anyway, he made me promise that tonight we would leave all problems and ulterior motives behind, and just be in the moment.”

Ella tips her head, her dark locks brushing her shoulder. “No ulterior motives? No warding off women with your presence? Then why has he been acting like…”

I slump in my chair and suppress a moan. “Don’t say it, it’ll make it more real.”

“Like you’re more than just friends?” she continues anyway. “I’ve been watching you two all night. I’ve never seen him like this with anyone before, not least because he never takes women to any sort of event.”

“I don’t know,” I groan quietly. “I don’t know what to do, or what it means.”

Ella’s bright eyes sparkle with some sort of inner realization, and she darts a glance to the stage and back. “I suppose you could just ask?”

“Ask what?” I hiss, mortified, and I rub at my wrist as a frisson of nervous energy tingles my skin there. “Ask the man who’s made it clear on several occasions that he isn’t interested in relationships, why he’s being nice to me?”

“Or you could tell him how you feel?”

“I feel…shh,” I snap. “I feel shh, Ella, that’s how I feel. So just…shh. No more talking.”

I turn steadfastly back towards the stage, chewing my bottom lip and trying to ignore the knowing look she sends my way, frustrated at how easily she can read me.

“And so,” Oli says with finality as he brings his speech to a close, “let us raise our glasses to a future together.” He snatches at the champagne flute Rhokar holds, much to the orc’s glaring annoyance. “This lodge, just like our town, aims to bring fae and humans together in a place with no judgment, and facilities to cater to all races, big or small.” He raises his glass, and the crowd follows suit. “To Hearthstone Lodge, where all are welcome!”

“Here, here!” I hear Ismelda’s voice call out from the crowd, and everyone clinks glasses and claps as camera flashes sparkle around us.

“Oh, and before I step down and let dinner begin,” Oli adds, stopping the men beside him from leaving as the clapping dies down, “I’d like to make one more round of thanks. On behalf of Mr. Strongarm, a warm thank you to Ella, for doing all his paperwork and keeping business running at the office while he’s out here flexing his muscles on the worksite.” Rho’s glare darkens behind Oli, and he appears to be muttering insults under his breath while the crowd chuckles and claps. “On behalf of Mr. Dupont, thank you to his security team, who are all on duty tonight keeping us safe while the rest of us enjoy ourselves.” Malachite’s obsidian face remains expressionless amidst the clapping, but I could swear he lets out a sigh of relief at Oli’s harmless words, as if he’d expected worse. “And on behalf of myself, a thousand thank yous to my Grace. Her beauty motivates me to wake up every morning, her warmth shines a light on my otherwise dreary existence, and her kisses inspire me to be the recklessly dashing, fabulous lodge owner you all see before you tonight.”

More laughter and clapping rings out from the crowd as Oli puts the mic back on its stand, and I feel my cheeks heat and my lips part as I lock eyes with him, and he winks.

My Grace?

I can’t tear my eyes away, not even as I feel Ella’s smugly delighted gaze bore a hole in my temple. My Grace? Did he really just proclaim… In front of everyone…

“Hah,” a lightly masculine voice shouts out from the crowd in a sarcastic, angry tone, as if desperate for everyone to hear him. “Hah. Your Grace? Don’t make me laugh!”

My stomach instantly drops with cold dread at that familiar, dramatic voice, and I reach out to grab my sister’s arm. “Oh, Jesus fucking Christ…”

“What a joke, to think she could ever be yours!” There’s a commotion amongst the tables as a blonde head pops up and makes its way through the quickly hushing crowd, whose cameras are all suddenly pointed towards Brad as he stumbles onto the dance floor. His shirt and tie are askew, and his pale face is flushed with drink as he points an accusing finger towards the stage. “Grace is mineand you can’t have her, you ugly, hairy freak!”

“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ,” I repeat, as Ella lays a hand over mine and squeezes. “Oh god, oh god, oh god…”

“How the hell did he get in here?” she whispers angrily into my ear. “Did he just stand up from that harpy’s table?”

“If he came in as Sera’s plus one,” I mutter faintly, “he must have been working hard to avoid me seeing him all night, because we just about talked to everyone, and I didn’t catch a glimpse.”

“How did he even manage to find Oli’s ex like that and team up with her?”

I shake my head, feeling faint and not knowing whether I should go over there and herd him out, or sink into the ground beneath me with violent embarrassment.

“This animal stole my girl!” Brad continues on loudly. He seems to bask in everyone’s attention as he drunkenly turns to address the crowd, likely misinterpreting the gasps of shock and outrage as pity for his predicament. But a quick glance at the angry faces of fae all around me tells me they’re a lot more insulted by his slurs. “He’s a homewrecker! A woman stealer! I had her first!”

“Grace left you.” Oli’s steady, smooth voice rings out over the murmurs as he stands still behind the mic. He appears calm, but even from here I can see the way his eyes blaze as he stares down at my ex. “For obvious reasons.”

“You shut up!”

Brad swings back around to face the stage as Oli murmurs something to Malachite, who’s nodding and already speaking into his wrist. Hopefully mobilizing all his security guards to take Brad out, immediately.

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