Page 10 of Her Pretty Words

“Can I get a beer,” someone calls, thankfully getting the bartender’s attention off me.

Every song that plays sounds the same as the previous, but when a new one begins, Macys eyes widen, and she stumbles out of her stool. “I love this song,” she says with a lazy smile and then grabs my hand. I let her lead me into the crowd of sweaty bodies.

Someone knocks into Macy, causing her to trip and fall against my chest. My hands instinctively grab her hips to keep my balance, so we don’t go tumbling backward into the people behind me like falling dominos.

She looks at me wide-eyed and before she can create space between us, I grab one of her hands and twirl her. Brown hair floats around her from the swift movement, and when she stills, a lock of it falls into her face, so I gently tuck it behind her ear.

Her eyes slowly fall shut as she lifts her face to the ceiling. She begins to sway in such an effortless way, as if the music itself is stringing her along.

I’m a tense body among countless dancing ones but I don’t mind how stiff I probably look. I watch Macy like she’s the first glimpse of land after spending months at sea.

When a new song starts, her eyes meet mine, glistening like morning dew. She steps closer, drowning out the smell of sweaty people with her vanilla scent. Her hands are soft when she wraps them around my neck, and as though it’s what the music needs, she tilts her head to the side.

I’m under her spell when I begin to sway. It’s not much of an effort, I just let her rhythm guide me. I take advantage of her shut eyes to notice everything about her. The faint freckleson her face remind me of constellations and there’s a shadow tucked beneath her full lips.

Her eyes open and meet mine when the beat picks up. My hands find her hips. She doesn’t tell me to remove them. Her gaze moves over my face like she’s taking a good look at me. I hold my breath.

“How’d you get that scar?” Her thumb brushes over my top lip. “This one,” she whispers. My eyes fall shut of their own accord from her touch.

“I caught a frisbee with my face when I was younger.”

“Ouch.” She winces.

She lifts her arms in the air and jumps up and down. I watch her in complete awe, the image is something akin to a memory. This time, when she looks up, her eyes catch on my lips.

I stop thinking and wrap my hands into her hair and breathe in the strawberry on her breath. My eyes fall closed, and my lips hover an inch above hers.

An alarm drowns out the music. It’s raining.Inside.

My eyes shoot open. People start running toward the small exit, slamming into me, and making me fumble backward. It’s complete disarray, and Macy is nowhere in sight. I push through bodies.

“Macy!” I shout, but it gets drowned out by the alarm and panic.

I go in the opposite direction of everyone else, but every step I make forward I get pushed three paces back. There’s a girl on the floor that I quickly pull up from beneath her arms, so she doesn’t get trampled.

There’s not even smoke. I bet some drunken idiot pulled the alarm.

“Macy!” My scream leaves my throat raw, as if I’ve swallowed a razor blade. Damp people clash against me, but none of them are her.

I reach the bar. Water pools and drips from the top. I pull myself onto the wet surface, standing tall above the crowd, searching for a specific brunette in a crowd of them.

I could never live with myself if something happened to her, but right as the horrific thought forms, I spot her. With hair cascading down her back like a waterfall, Macy helps people off the floor. She pushes them in the direction of the exit instead of getting herself out.Of course, she does.

“Macy!” This time when I call her name, her eyes find mine.

I jump down, pushing through to get to her, and once I do, I grab her hand and lead her to the exit. Once we make it outside and past the crowd that gathers around the bar, I finally look at her. I examine her body from head to toe, ensuring she isn’t injured. Her chattering lips are pale and her wet hair drips along her goose fleshed skin. Black makeup runs down her cheeks. I rub her arms, trying to warm her with friction since my blazer isn’t doing much good getting stepped on in the bar right now.

“I’m f-fine,” she chatters. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”

We make it there shortly; I follow Macy to the elevators. Once we are shut inside the confined space, her gaze is on nothing in particular when she rings out her hair and begins to laugh. Her entire body seems to shake with the wonderful sound.

I can’t take my eyes off her. My heart picks up and Iburn.

I stared like an awestruck idiot when she ran into me at the airport before remembering how to speak. And when I locked eyes with her before getting in the cab, it was like fate stepped in right before I could leave her.

I thought bribing the driver to take us to the diner was harmless. All I truly wanted was to have more time with her. Looking back, no wonder her assumption of why I was buying her meal was so crass. I just wanted tobewith her. I wanted tomake her laugh but instead, I managed to make her dislike me within minutes.

But now, her laugh echoes off the elevator walls, making my heart skip a beat. When the door opens, her cheeks are pink and her laughter quiets into just a smile. “That was crazy,” she whispers more to herself than to me. “Was there even a fire?” she asks, stepping out of the elevator.

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