Page 52 of Her Pretty Words

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Page 52 of Her Pretty Words

“Are you there?” my dad asks.

“Yeah, sorry. Bad connection,” I lie. “All you guys need to know is that Walter doesn’t make me happy.”

It’s silent. I’m pretty sure they put me on mute. My mom eventually says, “Macy Brookes, if you don’t get your ass home this instant…” I don’t hear the rest because Grayson’s eyes meet mine and the rest of the world falls away.

He smiles and it’s all dimples and paperwhite teeth. The glasses raise slightly from his cheeks pressing them up. It’s not his usual smirk or grin. It’s him without his arrogant mask. A person’s smile shouldn’t have the capability of stealing my breath. Its dreadful to know that no site will compare to him.

I hang up on my parents.

An invisible string tethers me to him, and right now our distance pulls it taught. Tension ripples in the air between us. In the back of my mind, I dare anyone to try and break it.

I lift my hand in greeting, and he dips his head in response, a gentler smile playing on his face. Then, he closes the book in his hand and gets up from his chair. His black shirt hugs him in all the right places, and I don’t need to imagine what’s beneath, because I’ve seen him without a shirt. He looks like a statue carved from marble. He’s not wide and bulky, he’s tall and sculpted to perfection, and I can only conclude it’s because he lifts weights in addition to his daily runs. He crosses the distance between our yards.

“Macy,” he says as way of greeting.

“Grayson.”

“Lovely morning, isn’t it?”

Now it is.

I push the previous phone call with my parents from my mind. It’s simple because I’m not leaving, at least not for a while. For once, I feel like my life has meaning. Like I’m finally doing what I want.

He sits beside me on my porch swing, making it rock slightly. His shoulder is touching mine, and the entirety of my side burns as if I’m sitting beside a fire. But there’s no fire, there’s only Grayson. “How did you sleep?” he asks. It’s an innocent question that makes me think back to last night. My face heats down to my neck.

I slept better than ever, but I won’t admit that it’s because of him. “Tossed and turned all night. You?”

He grins and the glasses soften the hard angles of his face. “Perhaps you would’ve slept better if I had been there beside you.”

I roll my eyes, despite the appeal of him in my small bed. There would be no space between us. His legs would hang off the end, and everything about him would look out of place in my bedroom.

“Those new?” I change the subject, pointing to his glasses. And impossibly, his cheeks pinken. Perhaps it’s the lighting because Grayson doesn’t blush.

“Yes.”

“Interesting,” I say. “I like them.”

“I’m marking this day in my calendar. That might be the nicest thing you’ve said to me. And I got them because I was having a hard time seeing the words in your book.”

He got glasses just to read my writing.

I feel my chin begin to quiver. I will away the emotion, but not before Grayson notices. There’s a crease between his brows and suddenly my thumb tingles. I want to rub it away.

Swept up in the moment, I reveal a glimpse of myself. “No one’s ever cared about my books.”

His gaze is full of something I can’t place. “I care.”

“I know,” I whisper.

He tilts his head and it’s like he’s teetering on the tightrope between us, trying to reach me. To understand. I find myself doing the same most of the time. But I can never tell what he’s thinking. Every time he reveals something about himself, it makes it ten times harder to understand him.

“I’m bored,” I say to change the subject, and whatever fell over us seems to have moved past. Like a small cloud blowing by, shading what’s beneath it for only a moment.

His expression remains serious, as though he’s having a hard time moving on from what I said. “What are your plans for today?” he asks after a few moments, like he needed to find his voice again.

I shrug. “Nothing. I give myself the weekends off from editing.”

“Great. I’m not working today either. Get dressed, I’m taking you somewhere.” Not bothering to hear my reply, he walks back to his house without a second glance and disappears inside.




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