Page 69 of Small Town Beast

“You’re bugging. I barely had my head out!”

He turned on the radio, hands shaking. The moment she had stuck her head out he felt a cold, deep fear. He imagined the worst. What was wrong with him?

I’m so lonesome I could…

He slammed on the button so forcefully the speakers spat out static. Shit, had he broken it? He was running too hot.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked, eyes wide.

“Nothing. Just watch yourself next time.”

“Okay.” She rolled her eyes and seemed irritated. But then a minute later she reached across and touched the back of his hand, as if to say she understood the heavy thing he carried, and she didn’t mind.

Tanya stareddown at the feast laid before her in wonder. Scallops in butter and lemon garlic sauce, raw oysters over ice, a baby greens salad, mashed potatoes, crab cakes, butternut squash soup, sourdough bread and something called “rosemary honey butter”, all paired with a dry white wine that had a fancy name she couldn’t pronounce.

“Everyone here’s all dressed up,” she whispered to Saverin. “Look at us! We look like something the cat dragged in.”

“You look fine.” He brushed some wood shavings off his shoulder. “I’m the one that smells like a hog pen.”

“I could have changed into something, at least.”

“Like that red dress,” Saverin reminisced. “I wouldn’t mind seeing that again.”

“Ha!” Tanya tore a crust of bread and tried it. It was delicious. Everything was.

“Tanya.”

“Mm?”

“Would you call this a date?”

Saverin’s husky voice shivered up her neck.

“You want this to be a date?” she said carefully.

“I do.” He looked her in the eye.

“I can’t really be seeing anyone right now, Saverin.”

“If everything was normal,” he said very slowly, watching her, “Would you consider it?”

“I don’t know.” She hesitated. “There’s a lot to think about.”

“Like what?”

“We’re very different people.”

“I’m white, you’re Black. And so what?”

“No,” said Tanya. “You’re a millionaire, and I am a waitress. You like hunting and fishing and Hank Williams. I like Roberta Flack and going to the library.”

He grinned and then he started laughing. It was rare to see Saverin’s usually-serious face crease up with pure joy. In those moments she could see the man he’d been before the scar…before sorrow had ravaged his life.

Tanya had long suspected there was more to Saverin’s past than he let on. The burns on his body were undoubtedly connected to the trauma that still followed him like a shadow. It was part of what connected them, this shared grief, even though his was different. Maybe it was all they really had in common, and she found herself wishing there was more than that.

Saverin just leaned back in the booth, watching her down his long proud nose. For all his talk of being hungry, the food didn’t seem to interest him.

His thick black hair was pulled back at the base of his neck, showing off the fine proportions of his face and the missing tip of his ear which only added to his dangerous appearance. Tonight his scar didn’t even look that bad, and the broad slope of his shoulders under the T-shirt combined with the rough hand he laid on her knee under the table made her think of making love in dark and secret places and little else. Well, they hadthatin common– they loved having sex with each other.

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