57. Ari
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.
“Go on then, tell me,” I say as I sit on his bed.
He grins and stays standing. I can only assume I’m about to get the sales pitch for the new idea. The assumption is further cemented when he clears his throat loudly. “So why is it only for vampires?” he asks.
“What? That’s kind of the whole USP. Only Fangs.”
“Yes. But it kind of limits the opportunity to sell it.”
“I don’t get it.”
“I’ll explain. You remember that app from a few years ago. The whole of the internet went a little crazy over people in uniform? I don’t know what it was but everyone was super into policemen and nurses and whatever?”
“I think that might have been a normie thing.”
“Yeah, maybe. But anyway. The app started as a way for people who worked in certain jobs to meet other people who also worked in those industries. Like if you were a police officer you could meet a paramedic. I think the idea was people would have some things in common, and maybe their lives were similar. Like they both worked shifts and had to wear sensible shoes and the pay was a bit shit but the pensions would make retirement an absolute blast. But then it became a way that anyone could find a sexy policeman.”
“Do you have a thing about policemen?” I raise an eyebrow.
“No.” He squirms a little. “The policeman was the example Matt gave me. This is kind of his idea.”
“Oh. Really?” I like Matt, he’s sweet and kind and basically the vampire version of Brody but without the epic hair and arse you can balance a pint on. But he isn’t – as Brody’s mum apparently says – the brightest tool in the box.
“He’s smarter than he looks,” he says, evidently having read my mind. “Anyway, the app was opened up to anyone seeking a date in uniform. Like zero restrictions, just lots of people getting their—”
I interrupt him. “Hang on. You want to fetishise vampirism by letting normies use the app to find hot vampires in their area.”
“It’s not fetishisation.”
“Of course it is.” I’m so fucking stupid. I thought Brody was different. But it turns out he’s like all the other bastards who just want some vampire arse. I pull the t-shirt down to cover myself more fully. I just had sex with this man. He told me he fucking loved me.
“I promise you are misconstruing me,” he says softly. “Please just listen.”
“Is that all this was. Just you getting your end away with a vampire?”
“No. Jesus Christ no. I don’t like you because you’re a vampire.” He kneels in front of me and takes my hands. “I love you for you, Ari. I love you and I’m terrified of you and I think you are brilliant and special and totally utterly perfect.”
“Even though I’m a vampire,” my voice is small.
“To me, Ari, you being a vampire is the least interesting thing about you. And I mean that as a compliment, because being an immortal sanguivore is pretty interesting and even you can’t deny that.” He smiles and I can’t help but return it.
“Promise this isn’t just a sex thing.” My voice is small as if by asking quietly I’ll get the answer I want.
“I promise this isn’t a sex thing.”
“So you don’t want to fuck me?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Not in the slightest.”
“Oh. That was harsh.”
He laughs and then runs his finger tips across my jaw, my cool breath trapping between my teeth.
“Of course I do. Completely senseless. And then again and again. I want to bend you over my bed and push that t-shirt up over your hips and hear you moan as I thrust into you. I want you to straddle me so I can watch your breasts bounce as you ride me, pressing my thumb against your clit to make you come harder. I want your legs hooked over my shoulders as I gently rock deep inside you.”
“Oh.”
“Oh, indeed.” He smiles. “But I do not fetishise the vampire in you.”
I lean forward, my lips mere inches from his neck. “So you don’t want me to…” I trail off as I close the distance between us. A low moan escapes from his lips as I graze my teeth across his skin.