Page 50 of Fangs with Benefits

‘Will you eat lunch with me today, Molly June?’

I sit up straighter, surprised by his forthcoming ask. Aren’t we supposed to be playing this cool? Pretending we’re not eager to see one another? God, it was only a kiss. Two kisses.

‘I usually go to the gym and then eat something on the roof,’ I tell him. ‘But it’s getting too cold, so the cafeteria it is.’

‘Count me in.’

‘Okay,’ I say, acquiescing way too easily.

‘Okay,’ he says, and–honest to God–winks at me before retreating to his office. I hate that I feel a flutter, but I do, I really do.

Is it because he’s a vampire? He said his freaky mind powers don’t work on me, but there’s probably something in vampire lore that makes people who kiss them feel like they have to do it again urgently and immediately. This is the only explanation.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ Kenneth asks from over the wall of his cubicle. He showed up ten minutes late, sipping from his protein bottle, a bag of bagels in his other hand.

‘Nothing,’ I say too quickly.

‘You’re smiling. And when I walked in you and Elijah were huddled together like you were gossiping.’

‘We were talking about you. I bet that you’d wear the baby-blue polo and I was right so now he owes me five dollars,’ I say.

Kenneth ignores me. ‘I knew there was something going on with you, I knew it.’ He whispers this last part with satisfied emphasis on each word and I offer as frigid a glare as I can muster.

‘We were just talking. There’s nothing going on.’

‘Right, okay.’ Kenneth pulls a face like pretend I’m an idiot all you like but I know what I saw.

The worst part is that he’s right, and I do so hate when Kenneth is right, unless it’s about a sports question at trivia. Then it’s okay.

‘Did he get the nerve to ask you out yet or did you have to do it?’ Kenneth asks as he shrugs his coat off and hangs it in his cabinet.

‘It’s not like that,’ I say, patience hanging on by a thread. I exhale and press the power button on my laptop repeatedly until my fingerprint unlocks it. I turn to tell him to mind his own business and am met with his arm outstretched over the cubicle wall, something wrapped in brown paper in his hand. I recoil and blink many times until I can confirm that it’s in fact a bagel he’s offering me.

‘For… me?’ I ask tentatively. He nods and waves the bagel in front of me with more emphasis until I take it.

‘They had the cinnamon raisin with the pumpkin cream cheese again,’ he says by way of explanation. It’s my favourite kind. Despite my reluctance to yield anything to Kenneth, I’m touched. ‘Happy birthday. You look younger than thirty.’

‘Thank you,’ I say, and mean it. ‘For the bagel. Don’t comment on how I look again.’

He smiles, and because he can’t do a nice thing without doing three bothersome things to make up for it, he leans closer and whispers, ‘You can share it with your boyfriend.’

I flip Kenneth off, ignoring his snickering as I turn back to my computer to eat my bagel and get to work. I try not to think of my hot, somewhat-competent, vampire coworker.

After lunch a few days later, I’m well into my mouse-wiggle segment of the day where I passively write a short story in my journal and move my mouse every few minutes to make it look like I’m adding shareholder value. I’ve been working on a short story about a woman who inherits a hedgehog from her aunt and decides to become nocturnal to spend more time with the creature.

My computer pings, a Teams message from Elijah. I slide the notebook back into my top drawer, biting my lip to keep from smiling. He’s dutifully had lunch with me for the last three days, me eating and him sitting across from me, plying me with questions while he sips occasionally from the neon green bottle he brings around.

I click open his chat.

Elijah: What are you working on over there?

Biting my lip to keep from smiling, I respond.

Molly: Another short story that will find its final resting place in the box of used journals that I keep in the credenza in the living room.

Elijah: You’re a writer? Why didn’t I know this?

Molly: You never asked?