“Oh, that’s right. What did he say?”
“Well he was pretty shocked. But I think he took the whole zombie thing pretty well. Started asking me about running specialist supernatural classes. He’s been trying to crack that market for a while now, but we’ve never had any luck before.”
“I’m glad he’s looking at it from a positive angle.”
“Yeah.”
“What’s wrong?”
He’s quiet for a moment, his hands working over my feet. Then he sighs. “What if it’s weird when he sees me? What if something falls off at work?”
“Well I’m happy to take care of the important bit for you.”
He gives me a halfhearted smile.
“Hey.” I nudge him with the foot he’s not massaging. “You’re great. You’re really good at your job. He’ll get used to it. We’ll just sew you up again if something happens.”
“Yeah.”
He’s quiet for a while. I know what will cheer him up, though. “Tell me about Third Fang.”
A smile creeps back onto his face. “Really?”
“Sure.”
He pauses the massage for a moment to pull his phone out of his pocket and hand it to me. “Take a look.”
I unlock the screen and open the app, holding back my laughter at the terrible logo. The main page loads, and I’m immediately met with the profile picture of a minotaur with a wicked smirk on his face. The caption beneath the picture reads: experienced bull for MF, MFM, and FFM
Well OK. I scroll down, finding a few more pieces of information—age, location, size. Size! I have to do a double take when I read twelve inches. Oh my god. I might die. I swipe to the next profile so I don’t have to think too hard about that.
The next one is a ghoul with a wide, sharp-toothed grin. I try not to let my first impressions put me off immediately, but I can’t see myself getting into bed with such an unattractive monster. I swipe again.
The next profile is a dragon. You can tell he’s a dragon because of the two horns curling out of his thick brown hair and the dangerous smirk. I mean it also says that on his profile so there’s that. He’s only nine and half inches. Ha! Only!
He’s actually got a message in the description of his profile, which I read.
Patient, experienced, deliberately single. I’m not in a rush. I value quality connections over quantity. Try me.
“Like what you see?” Adam is looking over my shoulder at the screen.
“Oh my god, this is ridiculous.” I lock the screen and toss it on the couch.
For a moment Adam does nothing, just continues kneading the arch of my foot. Then he picks up the phone. “I think you’re into the dragon.”
TWENTY ONE
Adam
I know Jen. I know that flushed expression. She’s trying hard to hide it, but she’s interested.
“I do not.” She tries to get away, but I’ve got her foot. I give her a yank toward me and she shrieks. Then I pin her down to the sofa and go for her weak spot—under the armpits. “Oooh, Jen likes the dragon. Oooh, what was his name, Jen?”
“Oh my god, you’re such a child.” She tries to push me off, but she’s laughing too hard and anyway I’m much stronger.
“I’m going to message him.”
“What? You can’t.”
