Page 21 of Fangs with Benefits

Molly: No, like np stands for no problem.

Elijah: Ah, of course. Taking note of this.

Chapter 8

Molly

There’s something weird about Elijah.

I knew he was eccentric, a bizarre guy with unsociable tendencies, but I thought I could ascribe some of that to being English. I’ve consumed a generous amount of British media in the last week (GBBO, Bridget Jones’s Diary, The Holiday–yes, it counts–and three Pride and Prejudice adaptations) and I’ve determined that his cultural differences cannot explain the strangeness that is Elijah Thorne.

First there’s the food thing. As a frequent snacker, it’s odd to me that I’ve never once seen him eat anything. Only the weird shakes he keeps in his bottle. And I know my dependence on caffeine isn’t healthy, but I do feel like the way he’s a thousand per cent awake at 9 a.m. each morning without a drop of caffeine is straight up inhuman.

He’s gotten better at his job, marginally, but teaching him regular job functions still feels reminiscent of attempting to teach my grandma about technology before she got her hands on Facebook and Farmville. He also squints when someone uses slang terms that anyone born in the mid to late ’90s should really know.

‘He’s got the weirdest fucking way of speaking. Yesterday I watched him google the word swag,’ I gripe to Devi. I’m especially fired up after having to fix how royally he messed up the TV in one of the third-floor conference rooms. As someone with a master’s degree from an arts school, I’ve been around a lot of dramatic people, but he might take the cake. With Elijah it’s never Thanks, I owe you one, it’s always, I’m eternally in your debt and no amount of gratitude will be enough to repay your generosity and wisdom.

Like, okay dude. You can cool it.

‘Maybe he’s older than he looks?’ Devi offers. ‘A full head of hair and a good skincare routine can go a long way; he could be somewhere north of forty?’

‘No way,’ Kenneth pipes in, uninvited, as he loves to do. ‘Eli isn’t a day over thirty-five. Have you noticed he’s fucking jacked? How much do you think he benches?’

‘I couldn’t care less about that if you held me at gunpoint, Kenneth,’ I tell him.

Elijah chooses that moment to stalk out of his office and Devi calls for him to come over. He dutifully obliges.

‘What are you doing?’ I ask without moving my mouth.

‘It’s fine, he’s nice,’ she whispers. Then, to Elijah. ‘Hey, Elijah. Quick question, how old are you?’

I press my fingertips into the middle of my forehead, trying not to groan.

‘Thirty-four,’ he says simply, not fazed by Devi’s invasive and random inquiry.

Okay so, again, he’s just weird as hell.

‘See? Told you,’ Kenneth says. ‘I got your back, bro. Molly was trying to say you were sixty.’

I throw a balled-up sticky note at Kenneth’s face. He acts like it hurt. ‘He misheard. I said seventy.’

Elijah’s lips tip up into an amused smile, the one dimple making itself known. I dutifully ignore the cursed thing.

‘I don’t think you look a day over twenty-seven,’ Devi says. ‘Molly’s entering her thirties soon–any advice for her?’

‘Get out more,’ Kenneth answers before Elijah can. I throw another sticky note ball at him then raise an eyebrow at Elijah, daring him to oblige Devi’s ridiculous request and offer some advice on my illustrious thirties. I guess he’ll say something about investing in my retirement young, or if he was in cahoots with my mother, he’d beg me to freeze my eggs. Instead, he looks off for a moment, ostensibly giving the question some thought, before settling his eyes on mine.

Even though it makes my heart rate pick up, I don’t look away. Won’t give him the satisfaction.

‘Fail often. Laugh more,’ he says, like a throw pillow. ‘And I think it’s easy to believe you have forever to do what you love, but you only have the one life. So, if you aren’t chasing what your heart desires most, you ought to get started.’

I blink at the earnest message, the one that latches onto so many of the fears and insecurities he certainly can’t know about. My throat feels dry, but I give a jerky nod.

What does your heart desire most? I want to ask. This? A career at Drummond with slim growth potential and decent benefits? Is this what sets your soul on fire?

‘That was poetic,’ Devi says. ‘Have you considered writing?’

‘Or life coaching?’ Kenneth adds.