Page 108 of Only Fangs

“Is everything OK?” I ask.

She bites her bottom lip and then grins as she lifts her hips and slides her underwear off. She pulls me onto her, between her legs, her meaning clear.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” I ask.

She looks puzzled. “Are you asking if you can have sex with me?”

“Yes.”

“Umm… I don’t think anyone has ever asked me that before.”

“Well, I’m asking you now.”

She pauses for a moment as if she’s thinking. “Yes. Yes, I want this.” She’s emphatic. “Yes. I want you.” She giggles and my heart swells.

I reach into the bedside table and pull out a condom. “Double sure?”

“A million times sure,” she replies as she plucks it from my hand, opens it, and then gently rolls it onto me.

The sound she makes as I enter her is unholy in the very best possible way.

Later that night, we cuddle under the duvet. I want to ask her why it took her two weeks to come back to me. But I know I shouldn’t. And I know that deep down it doesn’t matter. She’s here now, nestled in the crook of my arm with her head on my shoulder. That’s all I care about.

Chapter 57

Ari

Brody’s phone dings with an incoming message. “It’s Matt,” he says. “He went out and got us some champagne. It’s in the kitchen.” He stands up and wraps a dressing gown around himself.

“Why did he get us champagne?” I ask.

“To celebrate.”

“How does he know we have something to—” I cut myself off. If I could blush I would. “Oh.”

“Don’t think anything of it. Honestly, for weeks I’ve had to listen to him and Ivan.”

“Gross.”

“I think they’ve kind of fallen for each other,” he says and there’s a real affection there. It’s sweet how good friends he and Matt are.

Brody goes to get the champagne and I pull on one of his t-shirts. It’s super soft, like it’s been washed a million times, and I think it might be my new favourite outfit. His room is fairly small – although not as small as my bedroom in the tiny flat – but he’s made great use of the space. One corner is dedicated to books with a huge set of built in shelves stuffed full of a range of hardback and paperback novels. This must be where he films his content for that bookstagram account he told me about.

In front of the bay window is a large desk with a lamp that looks like a huge naked bulb, more science experiment than decorative object. It’s cool in a very “Brody-like” way. There’s a stack of paper in the corner that looks like someone just gathered everything up into a pile without any order. On top is a scribbled note about Only Fangs. He’s obviously been working while I’ve been spending time at Dad’s. Not that I wasn’t thinking about Only Fangs. I just didn’t want to come back until I was sure what I wanted from this, from Brody in particular. And I wanted to surprise him by having a genius idea for the app which would blow his mind. On that front, however, I have totally failed.

“Are you spying on my ideas?” he asks from the doorway and makes me jump.

“No, I was just⁠—”

“I’m kidding.” He hands me a champagne and we clink glasses. “To us.”

“To us.”

“And to a dazzling future with Only Fangs.”

“Do you really think we can make it work?” I ask.

“With my genius new idea it can’t possibly fail,” he replies. There’s the over confident golden retriever I know and love.