Page 27 of Fangs with Benefits

His eyes light up at this notion and that fucking dimple shows on his cheek as he grins. ‘In non-work attire? No suits?’

It occurs to me that I’ve never imagined him in anything other than a suit. On his first day he had that sunhat of course, but ever since, the same Met baseball cap hangs on a hook with his shoulder bag. I can’t imagine what kind of clothes he wears when he’s not wearing a crisp, fitted button-up and slacks. Is he the type to wear flip-flops with jeans? Or constant athleisure? He could be really into leather, for all I know, or wear exclusively cargo shorts with trinkets and tiny knives in his pockets.

‘It’s right after work, so we usually go as we are, slacks and all,’ I say. ‘But it’s chill. Just drinks and chatting. This bar has good nachos, so sometimes I get those. Did your last jobs really never do anything like this?’

Elijah shakes his head. ‘Not quite.’

The more I learn about his past work experience, the surer I am that this man has never set foot in a corporate environment.

‘Well, Jen and Kenneth will bully me if you don’t come, so if you’re busy, you better tell them I didn’t scare you off.’ I point a finger at him in as intimidating a way as I can muster, but he just looks amused and delighted.

‘You bet,’ he says.

Despite myself, I smile as I walk away.

Happy hour is as it always is; Ryan annoys the shit out of me when he’s sober, and he’s even worse tipsy, so Devi and I sit at least two tables away from him at any given time. Thing is, Devi is fun as hell, so everyone wants to sit with us. Our table fills up quickly with Jen, Kenneth, and a couple of the developers. We do a round of shots after Jen and Devi’s prompting, and then I order a glass of red wine. Kenneth, as much as I tend to loathe him, is always down to share a plate of nachos with me, so we do.

Only, today is different because today Elijah is here too. He gets pulled to Ryan’s table, and almost an hour passes before I see him again. He’s extricated himself from Ryan’s boring clutches and sits at the bar, looking out at the now surprisingly full room. I suppose it shouldn’t be that shocking–they do half-price wings on Thursday nights and trivia, which is going to start in the next hour.

He’s alone, a wistful sort of smile on his face as he people watches. Anyone else would look creepy, I think, but in my slightly inebriated state I can admit that he is the most handsome man in all of New York, probably the East Coast as a whole, and he makes everything look effortless. Well, so long as he’s not touching a computer.

‘Go talk to him,’ Devi prompts.

‘What? Why?’ I ask. ‘He’s plenty social, he can make a friend.’

‘Don’t be evil.’

‘I’m not!’ I protest, but when I look again at Elijah, he’s already looking at me. He smiles and inclines his head barely in acknowledgement before getting back to looking at everyone else.

I think he’s… lonely? Could that be? For what other reason would he be looking at the groups of people chattering like a dog yearning for a home?

I sigh and drain the rest of my drink, which warms my chest.

‘Careful, tiger,’ Devi says, patting my back. She is tiny, but that girl can drink when she wants to. She was in an a cappella group in college, and I swear they went harder than any sorority. I hand her my empty glass and exhale before crossing the bar and taking up the empty stool to the left of Elijah.

‘Molly,’ he says by greeting.

‘Elijah.’

His eyes roam over my face, a soft smile growing on his lips.

‘What?’ I ask, fidgeting with the sleeve of my cropped cable knit.

‘Wine makes your cheeks rosy,’ he says. This I did know, and if they weren’t already flushed, I’m sure the observation would make me blush even further. I clear my throat and hold my hands under my thighs to stop myself from wiggling.

‘Some people are very graceful drinkers.’ I nod at Devi, who is now making a whole table of our colleagues erupt in laughter from a story she’s theatrically telling. Her skin is perfect, blemish free, not an acne scar in sight, and when she blushes it is a rather elegant sort of pink to her brown skin. Not the all-around tomato thing I have going on.

‘You’re perfectly graceful,’ he objects. ‘Completely alive.’

I raise a brow at what I think is a compliment but truly cannot be sure and am startled when the bartender asks me if I want another drink. I ask for a sparkling water and Elijah just shakes his head when I look to him for his order.

I think the two shots have sufficiently lowered my inhibitions, because I don’t even think twice before saying, ‘What’s the red stuff you’re always drinking?’

Elijah goes preternaturally still, his face falling. ‘Come again?’

I raise my brows at his intense gaze and take a sip of the cup of seltzer water the bartender slid to me. ‘In your water bottle at work. It’s like a shake or something, right?’

‘Right,’ he agrees.