Page 7 of Misbehaving With Minotaurs (Haven Ever After #8)

CHAPTER FOUR

MANORIN

“ N ice job this afternoon.” I stare at the players as we wrap a short but effective game.

I’ve seen what I need to see. “I don’t think we need regular practices, but I’d like to schedule one or two sessions over the next couple of weeks to help you get a feel for my leadership style, if nothing else.

If anybody’s not down for that, let me know, alright? ”

A few sideways glances between the players are my only answer.

I suspect Arkan’s going to get a couple phone calls afterward from players who have no intention of coming to those.

That’s fine. I’ve got a couple Hellions players in mind who aren’t doing anything during the break and would probably love to come here and fuck around on a gorgeous field.

It might even do the current team some good to see my academy folks.

When no one says anything, I resist the urge to bark that they hit the showers.

But, of course, these aren’t my protector kids, and they’re probably all heading home.

I dismiss the team gruffly, mulling over if it would even be possible to salvage next year’s season with a team like this.

Likely not. It’ll take a few years of building before the program’s in a good spot.

Looking back to last year’s skyball finals, it was pure luck how well the Ever Misfits did, in my opinion.

As the team leaves, Arkan jogs over to me with Hana, a worried expression on his face. She’s all happy smiles, though, pumping her arms victoriously over her head when they halt in front of me.

“That was amazing , Coach. It was so nice to play with people my own age for once.”

Oh my gawds.

I lift a brow at the beautiful centaur female. “Hana, you’re the only one even worth keeping on this team because you’re the only one with the right work ethic. Even then, do you have an intention of going pro? Because that’s the mentality this team would need to be successful long-term.”

She and Arkan share a glance. They’ve obviously discussed this.

I cross my arms. “Right. My job isn’t to pressure you into something you’re not dying to do.

There are players who’ve worked their whole lives to get to the skyball pitch.

” I move my focus to Arkan. “But you weren’t kidding when you said this is a rebuild.

I don’t think there’s a single player here I’d keep. ”

He shakes his head, crossing his arms to match my stance. “I truly was not. This team needs building from the ground up, which is why I want you to do it. I can’t attract pro talent the way you can, or any of the other things that need to happen to make the team successful.”

I suck at my teeth as I stare around the bright green pitch, lights overhead cutting on as the sun begins to set. After a moment, I look back at Arkan. “You have time to take me to dinner? I’ve got questions.”

Hana bumps her mate with an elbow. “Go. I’m headed to Shifter Hollow. Got a game with the kiddos down there.”

He laughs and slides his arm around her waist, rubbing his cheek against hers. When she turns, nuzzling at him for a kiss, I avert my eyes to give them a moment of privacy.

That easy-seeming, obvious love is something I’ve never had.

Being famous makes it even harder, because it’s nigh impossible to figure out who wants you for you and who simply wants your fame.

I found myself returning home to Pine Gulch for nearly all of my vacations, because the one thing I can count on the Gulch to do is treat me like Manorin the Longhorn, not Manorin the Coach.

“Come on, Coach,” Hana’s voice breaks through my thoughts.

When I return my focus to them, Arkan’s kissing her neck playfully even as she laughs and bats him away. She finally manages to stop him when he reaches for her hand and threads his fingers through hers. “I’ll walk you to Main.”

We leave the field, and I resist the urge to walk the stadium one more time. Realistically, I’m a poor sleeper, so when I wake up at two a.m., I’ll come back here and poke around a bit. I glance up at Arkan. “Stadium open all the time?”

He snorts out a laugh, swishing his tail against his dark sides. “Yeah. If you want to come get a three a.m. and get a workout in, you can.”

I crook a brow at him. “Oh, is there a weight room? I missed that on the tour.”

Arkan’s laugh grows louder. “Is there a weight room? Of course there’s a weight room. You’re right, we skipped that on the tour, but there’s a kickass weight room in the basement.”

“I brought weights in my bag,” I muse offhandedly, glancing to where I left my luggage at the side of the pitch. “Just in case.”

Arkan snorts. “Of course you did. Gods forbid you miss a workout.” He punches my arm. “Might lose all of this hard-earned muscle in a day or two, old man.”

We share a laugh at that. I couldn’t lose the muscle if I tried. Minotaurs are naturally strong. But I’m bigger and stronger than most due to my strict routine.

An hour later, we’re seated at Herschel’s Fine Dining, discussing the trial period, but my mind drifts back to Catherine. It’s been almost two hundred years since I’ve seen her, but damn, she looked better than ever. I’ve always brought out her sassy side, and that doesn’t seem to have changed.

I noticed she was on a date, but I never did see the centaur male return. Only an idiot would stand up a woman like her. I mull that over for a moment before returning my focus to Arkan, who chats animatedly about his vision for the skyball program.

The next half hour’s a blur as I grill Arkan within an inch of his life about the realities of this job. Some of it excites me. Some of it doesn’t.

My biggest worry is that he seems to be the only major champion of bringing bigtime skyball to Ever. Not surprising, but it doesn’t bode well. If Arkan were to be called to another haven to serve as Keeper there, my program’s major supporter would leave.

I don’t love that.

This isn’t just a team build; it’s a community build too.

Do I have that level of effort in me?

I consider that as Arkan and I part ways.

Striding up Main Street, I look around. Ever’s really a gorgeous little place—all cozy small-town charm.

Monsters wave to one another as they pass, calling each other by their first names.

That reminds me of Pine Gulch. Hearth HQ, where I live now, is big and sprawling and cold.

Everyone’s usually too busy fighting the wind and snow to exchange pleasantries in passing.

A shifter couple passes me, and the male nods deferentially, a little smirk on his face. I smile back, but as they go past, I hear his whispered explanation of who I am.

My smile grows broader. Some vain part of me loves to be recognized. I consider that as I make my way up the street, heading for the Annabelle Inn.

When I arrive, the lovely bed and breakfast waggles white shutters at me, pale pink siding rippling in a friendly way. Double glass-paned front doors swing open wide to reveal Catherine standing behind the check-in desk. She glances up with a thoughtful smile.

I miss admiring any more of the inn herself, because the innkeeper is so very, very delightful to look at.

Catherine’s once-dark waves are salt-and-pepper gray now, curled elegantly and hanging over one shoulder. High cheekbones accentuate a heart-shaped face and a chin with a tiny divot in it. Intelligent gray eyes give me an abrupt once-over even as her nostrils flare slightly.

How many times have I nuzzled my way up that elegant neck and bitten that chin? How many times have I scented her, marveling at how she could tweak the way she smelled to entice me?

She’s fuller-figured than when we were young, heavy breasts enough to fill even my large hands. The wrap dress she’s wearing only accentuates those plump curves.

I’ve always had a healthy libido but a short list of partners I was willing to share a bed with—another downside of the fame. But desire roars to life as Catherine rounds the check-in desk with a smile, opening her arms wide. “Manorin! Glad you made it!”

Dipping low, I sling my arms under hers and pull her up against my chest, hugging her tight to me. I’m selfish, because part of me just wants to feel her against me, this gorgeous succubus who ruled my heart all those centuries ago. I breathe in, her familiar scent a near physical caress.

When I put her down, her cheeks are pink, and she smooths her wrap dress .

Thinking back to earlier, I wink at her. “Your date ever come back, Cath? I didn’t happen to notice him.”

Her smile falls, and she rolls her eyes as she returns behind the check-in area.

“You know he didn’t, Manorin. Perhaps you should worry about your dating life, though, and not mine? Or just the skyball opportunity, since that’s why you’re here.”

I wave away the comment. “Ah, I’m only here for a few weeks. If I decide to stay, I’ll worry about it then.” I grin wickedly at her. “Told you he wasn’t for you. Looks like I was right.”

She matches my smile, her crisp apple scent growing stronger. “Manorin, friend , much as I’d love to catch up, Vikand isn’t a topic we need to discuss.”

I laugh and bend over the desk, leaning onto both beefy forearms. I know Catherine, and whether she means to or not, she’ll be reading my pheromones as we speak.

“Cath, what you need is someone big and strong with gorgeous horns to hold on to while he fucks you senseless. It’s not that guy.”

Her return smile is nearly feral, gray eyes flashing in the fading light. “And I suppose you think it might be you?”

I shrug. “At least you know we wouldn’t lack for chemistry.”

Around us, the inn creaks and groans. Catherine smiles sweetly up at me. “Credit card for incidentals, please.”

I hand the plastic over, staring at her while she enters the card into her computer.

“Your inn’s gorgeous, and I think she agrees with me.”

She looks up at me. “Isn’t she, though? This building has filled my heart fuller than anything in my entire life.”

I notice she ignores my comment about the Annabelle agreeing with me. The full heart comment feels like a barb, but I probably shouldn’t take it that way. Still, it brings me back to asking Catherine to get a minotaur mating tattoo, to be fully and irrevocably mine.

She said no.

My heart shattered.

We split up.

And here we are.

The Annabelle creaks again, sounding happy to me and thankfully breaking through my self-pitying train of thought.

Catherine slides my credit card toward me with a big smile. “I’ll take you to your room now, Manorin, and if you’d like a tour of Ever at any point, please allow me to show you around.”

I grin as I grab my bag, staring as she emerges from behind the desk and heads for the stairs. “Just keep walking in front of me,” I say. “Best damn view in town.”

She tosses me a sassy look, but her scent strengthens anyhow. She always loved my dirty mouth, and I’m not feeling too inclined to clean it up, despite the years between us.

Annabelle creaks happily again, the carpet on the stairs rippling to grab my attention.

“I’m happy for you, old friend,” I manage, even as something deep inside me aches to be filled the way she described her love for Annabelle. What would it be like to have the same level of success in my personal life as I have in my career?

Is anyone ever that lucky?