Haley Thistle
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Brody the Minotaur (special preview)
🕑 Added 2022-07-23 20:00:03 +0000 UTCYou woke from a nap and rubbed your eyes, staring out the window at the darkness laid out beyond the truck. All you could see was what was touched by the glow of the headlights. You yawned and stretched, reaching for your waterbottle as faded country music crackled from the radio.
“Good nap?”
Brody was posed in the driver’s seat. Looking more comfortable than if he was in a fluffy recliner. The sleeves of his flannel were pulled up, and a few buttons had come undone since you drifted off to sleep.
“How long was I?” You wiped the side of your face, which bared a sticky residue of drool.
Brody chuckled. “I didn’t keep track. You want me to turn on a timer next time?”
You shook your head, rubbing your eyes to remove yourself from the fog. “Have you stopped anywhere?”
“Not yet, but there should be a rest stop coming up soon if you need it. Then maybe we can find a place to catch a quick bite.”
“No rush.” You check your phone and see a couple of messages from your parents and pictures of your daughter playing in their kitchen.
“How’s the bandit?” Brody asked.
“She’s fine,” you chuckled. “She’ll probably have everything she wants by the time we get back home.”
“Good, she deserves it.” Brody tilted his neck and it popped loudly.
“Ooh1 That sounded nice.”
“I’ve been trying to get it to do that for a while!” Brody laughed in triumph.
You and Brody had been friends longer than you could remember. In a way, he had always been there so you never thought of counting the years. Your parents worked hard together, forming a successful small town business that grew into a massive multiple store success. Right now, the two of you were delivering furniture to Brody’s sister, Lena, who was your best friend. She had moved for a job, so you and Brody promised to deliver her things while she got everything else settled.
Brody and his family were minotaurs, and all of them had this creamy white fur mottled by cinnamon colored speckles and spots. Brody had a mop of thick, curly hair that he usually kept tucked under a hat so he didn’t have to deal with it. He was older than you and Lena so you didn’t start getting close until you both grew older.
“Do you need me to take over driving at all?” You asked.
“Not for now,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’m fine for now. Once we reach that rest stop we can find somewhere to get some sleep.”
You leaned back into the seat and sighed. “I can drive, you know.”
“Yeah but, whoever heard of a woman driver? Sounds mighty like a witch in my book,” he teased.
You smirked and cut your eyes at him. “You think only witches can drive?”
“Witches, prostitutes, divorced women, all of them drive cars. Do you see the correlation-” He could finish his sentence without busting out with laughter. “Lena would fucking kill me.”
You were snickering and giggling behind your hand. “I would do it for her. There’s an ice scraper in that glove box that looks pretty sharp.”
“I’m fine driving for now. Don’t worry, you’ll get to mount up your booster seat and take the wheel.”
You threw an empty water bottle at him. “I don’t need a booster seat! I can reach the pedels just fine.”
Brody smirk didn’t dissipate. “You’re going to throw this perfect seat adjustment all out of whack?”
“I’ll show you seat adjustment,” you grumbled.
His lips parted and his smile grew. “No.” He shut his mouth and snorted. “Nope. I won’t say it.”
You frowned. “Say what?”
He shook his head. “No, no. I’m not going to say it.”
“Who are you talking to? Go ahead and say what you want to say!”
He was starting to shake he was holding it back. “Not in front of a lady.”
“What lady?” You mocked.
Brody licked his lips then clicked his tongue. “Okay then. If you want to talk about adjusting seats, then maybe we should lay them back so that we can have all the room we need.”
You stared for a moment, unsure what he was saying. Then it clicked and your mouth dropped open. “That’s not even the worst thing you could have said! Why were you so puritan about it. I’ve heard you and your friends say way worse stuff.”
“Yeah, with my idiot friends. Not in front of-” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “My family friend.” That didn’t sound like what he was going to say, but he did have to clear his throat.
