Page 2 of Her Pretty Words
“Sorry for the inconvenience.” He cracks his knuckles. “I can put you guys on standby for tomorrow’s flights. I’ll need your boarding pass too, sir.”
“Oh, we’re not togeth?—”
“Here,” the guy interrupts me, handing him the slip of paper. I shoot him a questioning look. “I was on the same flight as you,” he says, so only I can hear.
“I put you both in the system. I can’t guarantee you’ll be on the same plane, but we’ll notify you when there’s a seat available.”
“All right, thanks, man,” the guy says. He tries to pull away, but I tighten my grip.
“Are yousurethere’s nothing for today? I have nowhere to sta—” I start to ask but am quickly interrupted.
“There’s no flight, Macy. They can’t fly into a storm just soyou’renot inconvenienced.”
I scoff.How does he know my name?
“You coming?” He gestures with a flick of his head to follow him, but I stay put. I’m not going anywhere with him.
Someone behind me clears their throat. I shoot them a glance, realizing the line has grown even longer and several people are directing their frustrated looks at me. I feel my face get hot and quickly step out of line.
The guy stands tall with only a backpack, waiting for me like I belong with him. “Thanks for your help,” I say as I walk past him, wondering why every good looking man possesses the same arrogant personality as the next. I nearly trip when my luggage gets caught on something behind me.
I turn around, realizing the guy has a firm grip on my suitcase.
“Let. Go,” I say through my teeth, hoping I come off at least slightly intimidating.
“Macy—” he says calmly.
“How do you know my name?” I ask in an accusatory tone.
“Macy Brookes.” His lips curl over my name. “It’s printed right there.” His gaze lands on the hand holding my boarding pass.That’s curiously intrusive of a mere stranger.
I’m exhausted from plastering smiles on my face to placate assholes who make me uncomfortable. Each encounter with these copy and paste individuals has slowly unraveled me by pulling loose a thread. It’s in this very moment that I come undone. “Are you going to hold me hostage by my luggage all night?” I glare at the hand on my suitcase.
He watches me for a moment, then releases his hold on my luggage. I only make it two paces away before I nearly trip on my shoelace.
He laughs huskily from behind me.
I slowly turn to him, hoping my glare is scathing. Deep shadows peek out from his cheeks. It’s strange to see something as boyish as dimples on a face that’s all-sharp edges and contours.
“Good save,” he says. “If you’d fallen on your face, it surely would’ve ruined my afternoon. Blood freaks me out.”
I stare at him, my mouth nearly agape at his audacity.
“You need me to tie your shoe, Macy?” The moment he says my name, he grins.
“Stop…saying my name.” I grind my teeth.
“What would you prefer I call you?” His eyes sweep over my face, landing on my worn-out University of Idaho hoodie. He looks up with a smirk. “Idaho. Interesting.”
“Why’s that?” I narrow my eyes.
“I just didn’t know anyone actually lived there, let alone attended the state college.” He pinches his chin in a considering manner. My eyes home in on the strand of dark brown hair hanging over his forehead while the rest is a tousled mess. He has sharp cheek bones, a slightly crooked nose, and a hardly noticeable scar on his upper lip. He’s handsome in a different way than my fiancé. Walter has ash blond hair and a face symmetrical enough for magazines. I’ve grown to dislike perfection.
“Potato.” He snaps his fingers. “No wait…” His eyes sweep over me once more before he says, “Tato. Short for potato.”
I blink several times. “What?”
“You said to stop saying your name, so instead I’ll call you Tato.” He crosses his arms and shrugs.