Page 48 of The Beast's Heart

“Oh, have I?” I let him fill it.

“And, May Day is also Workers Day. So it’s a holiday.”

I roll my eyes good-naturedly. I don’t point out that the Worker’s Day bank holiday doesn’t actually fall on the first. “All right. But just one glass.”

He smiles again and tilts his head in silent invitation. I follow him back to the fallen log. It’s close enough for us to keep an eye on the children, but far enough away that we can talk without them overhearing.

I feel like my insides are vibrating as he sits beside me.

“To warmer weather and workers’ rights,” he toasts. We knock our tumblers together. I sip the wine. It’s a crisp and fruity sauvignon blanc, spring incarnate. I close my eyes and hum in appreciation.

“A connoisseur, I see,” Adam says.

“Oh, not really. But my eldest brother, Eliot? He definitely is. Never had an eye for women. Or men, for that matter. But fine wine? He’d start a religion dedicated to it if he could. Or a cult. Although Joe’s the one who joined a cult.” I realize I’m babbling and bite my lip.

Adam only laughs again. “A cult?”

“Oh, don’t worry, he managed to get out. Only after they’d taken him for everything he was worth, though. He has a knack for getting into trouble. He’s currently working on some big NFT project. So, I suppose, second cult? You’d expect the first experience would have made him wiser, but no.”

“I thought you had two brothers and three sisters?”

I’m surprised he knows that. “I do.”

“Right. So Zane is…?”

Why is he asking about Zane?

I must hesitate a little too long because he quickly says, “Your emergency contact. Someone named Zane. And you received a parcel from him. That sounds creepy. Sorry. I happened to see that. You don’t have to answer. It’s none of my business.”

He’s so flustered. It’s almost as if he’s asking if Zane is… no. He can’t be asking if Zane’s my boyfriend?

“Just a friend. He’s just a friend.” I take a gulp of wine.

“Oh,” Adam says and I catch a smile, though he tries to hide it with his own sip.

My neck goes hot and I fight the urge to adjust my collar. I picked out a thematic Turner & Sanderson floral print for today. It’s a pattern of delicate blue and white flowers with bright birds and butterflies spaced between. It’s one of my favorites, butright now it feels too effeminate, too colorful… too everything. Especially when coupled with a baby blue cardigan. Because Adam is in ripped jeans and a plain black t-shirt. He’s rugged and manly and gorgeous.

I search for something to say, land on, “So, you like plants?”.

I cringe internally. I’ve never been good at small talk… or whateverthisis.

“Strange, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

He cranes his neck to look up at the canopy. “I told you about the street fighting. You can make a lot of dough betting on yourself if you’re good. And I was good. A natural. Guy from the promotion was there one night, liked my showmanship.” He looks back at me. “That’s the official story anyway.”

“The Beast’s backstory?”

He inclines his head.

“And what about Adam’s?”

He smiles again, small and wistful. “Before that, before I threw that first punch, I worked at a garden center. Fucking loved it. Didn’t pay much of course, but it was quiet and pretty.” He cuts his gaze to me. “You can laugh. Anyone would.”

“I don’t see anything funny about liking the quiet, or the beauty of nature. I mean, isn’t that why we’re out here now?”

“I suppose it is,” he says, gazing up at the children. Ben and Mal are on the same branch now and Alisha is hanging upside down from a branch above them, dark hair falling out of its braid as she pulls faces at them and Enrique giggles below.

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