Page 79 of Fangs with Benefits

‘How important is this promotion?’ I ask. Dylan has his own office–how many more promotions can he need? ‘Skipping the trip eliminates the risk of having to explain to your coworkers what a heat is.’

‘Oh my God,’ Molly whispers, shooting me a glance like she very much would like to know about heats immediately.

‘Focus,’ Dylan says, and Molly drops all talk of heats.

‘Is Matty going?’ she asks instead.

I’ve heard her call Matt this before, perhaps an old habit born from years of closeness. I loathe the sound of it from her lips.

‘No, dude, I think I would die if I had to spend a weekend of corporate bonding with him.’

‘Well then at least you don’t run the risk of turning the worst person you know?’ she offers. ‘If going is so important to you, tell a couple lies and duck out early the night of the full moon to go kill some rabbits or whatever.’

Dylan drums his fingers on the wooden arms of his chair then nods.

‘Fuck this is a bad idea,’ he says. I’m inclined to agree with him. Dylan sighs then shrugs. ‘All right, I’m doing it. Good talk.’

‘Good talk,’ I echo, and squeeze Molly’s knee. She presses her lips together to suppress a laugh.

Dylan rises from the chair and heads for his room. He pauses at his bedroom door, tie in hand, and looks over his shoulder. ‘You’re cool, Molly,’ he says. ‘I’m glad Elijah took your promotion.’

‘Thanks, Dylan,’ she says, and the soft lines by her eyes make me hope she might be a little glad of it too.

When his door shuts behind him, she looks to me with the wide-eyed shock I know she’s been feeling since he revealed his secret. She mouths werewolf and we both laugh, my hand still holding her thigh.

‘You free? I need your help,’ Molly says, leaning her head and shoulder on my office’s door frame. Today she’s wearing a maroon dress that flows over her hips and legs, a long row of buttons down the front. I blink away thoughts of kneeling in front of her and sliding my palms up those thighs beneath the fabric.

‘Hm?’

She gives a knowing smirk, my craving for her too obvious.

‘I need your help with a request on fourteen,’ she says. Molly doesn’t need my help with anything, so instead she must want my company. I’m unbelievably pleased by this news but maintain my composure, only standing without question and following her out. Devi smiles as cheerfully as she always does as we walk past, and the older, bald, security guard who loves Molly asks how her day’s going. She tells him that the day is better because he’s working and he’s so charmed that I think she could probably get away with a great Drummond heist and he would wilfully look the other way.

‘That guy loves you,’ I remark when we get into one of the elevators.

‘Oh yeah, he reminds me of my dad.’

‘Are you close? You and your father?’

‘Yeah.’ Molly smiles a bit wistfully. ‘He’s really great. Both of my parents are. They feel like the big city is a little too big for them. They’ve visited a few times, though.’

‘They must be very proud of you.’ Molly’s shoulders stiffen slightly–I’ve said the wrong thing again–before she exhales and nods.

‘They’re very loving.’

I want to ask more, to pick at what appears to be an emotional scab on my Molly’s heart, but the elevator’s doors slide open. Molly steps off onto the fourteenth floor and swipes her card to let us into the office space. It’s sleepier than the other floors, not even a receptionist at the desk to greet us, but Molly doesn’t look concerned, leading us past the lobby and down the long hallway of conference rooms.

‘Rare to get a request on this floor,’ I remark. It’s only a few sparsely populated group offices and meeting rooms so far as I can tell.

‘I was bullshitting,’ she says simply. ‘I have a very good-bad idea.’

‘And what’s that?’

She comes to a stop in front of a tall door that says supply and has to use her key to get into it. I follow her into the small space, the automatic light clicking on as we step inside. As soon as the door has shut behind me, Molly wastes no time turning to face me, standing so close that I have to look down my nose at her face tipped back to mine. I can smell her breath, smell the vanilla cappuccino that she just drank, and the gentle scent of her–lavender perfume mixed with the sweet scent of her blood beneath her skin.

Her hands land on my waist, pressing me backwards until I hit the wall with a surprised laugh. She reaches past me and clicks off the light, casting us into what would be complete darkness if not for the yellow LEDs under the cupboards lighting the counter.

‘What are you doing?’ I ask, though I’ve already lowered my mouth to hover above hers, close enough to kiss.