Savage Saints (Monsters of Saint Mark's)

Immediately heat floods my body and when she pulls back, I am breathless.

Madeline sighs. “I like you, Tomas. You’re not like other guys I know.”

I crinkle up my eyebrows, wondering what that means. Does she know? Can she tell I’m not human? “What do you mean by that?”

“You’re…” She sighs again. “Very good-looking. Ya know? I’m sure you know that. But you don’t act like one of those very good-looking guys, Tomas.”

“Thank you for the compliment. But how do these good-looking men act?”

“You know. Like they know they’re good-looking. All stuck up. Way too good for a girl like me.”

I am bewildered. “Too good for a girl like you? You seem like a very good girl to me.”

“Oh”—she chuckles—“I am a good girl. That’s the problem. They want to do a lot more than kissing.”

“Oh.” I nod. “I see. It’s a lot of pressure?”

“Kinda.” She shrugs. “But that’s not really what I meant. I’m not against”—she shakes her head a little—“you know. Sex.” She whispers that word. And I find this entire conversation adorable. “It’s just. I’m an old-fashioned girl. I want something real. And all the guys I know from growing up, they want something fake.”

I don’t understand. Isn’t everything real? How could things be fake? But I can ask Pie about this later. And I don’t want to spoil the moment. So I say, “I think I understand.”

“Yeah. So.” She points to the store. “Our house is actually through the woods there. So you don’t need to take me home. I’m just gonna stay here and help my uncle close up.”

“The date is over?” I ask.

She nods. “I think so. It was kinda boring?”

“Not at all.”

“You’re just saying that.”

I take her hand. Because she has gone from a confident, wild and rugged girl to a shy, uncertain one. And I don’t want to leave her this way. “Madeline,” I say, looking her in the eyes. “Nothing about this date was boring. I have enjoyed it. Immensely. And would love to do it again.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Only next time, I won’t take you shopping at my uncle’s stupid store.”

I have a sudden urge to kiss her again. And I think she’s thinking the same thing, because when I lean down, she leans up, and this time our mouths are open when our lips touch.

It’s a long kiss, too. A passionate one. A kiss filled with promises of more to come.

And when we break away, we’re both breathing heavy.

She backs away from me, but doesn’t turn. “How about tomorrow? Dinner again? I get off at seven.”

I point at her. “It’s a date.”

“It’s a date,” she echoes. Then she turns and disappears into the store.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN - PELL

Even though Pie and I can’t understand the monsters without Tomas, it’s an enjoyable meal. The room is loud with foreign conversation and the monsters at our table make an effort to include us in their dialogue. They point at us. They nudge us. They have a good laugh at our expense.

But it’s all fun. Their eyes are bright, their smiles wide, and the food is very good.

Even though I don’t eat hay, the dishes that Cookie whipped up using those dry, dusty bales we found at the feed store are appetizing enough to tempt even me.