Page 18 of Her Pretty Words

It’s one p.m. when I wake up and since I haven’t gone shopping, I have no food. I find coffee pods tucked in the back of the pantry. Once my mug is full of the nearly black liquid, I throw away the empty pod.

I take the trashbag to the garbage can on the side of the house, even though it’s hardly full. The bugs at the bottom of thebag freak me out. A delicate gust of wind blows against my damp skin, sending a chill down my spine. The side of my face tingles, like something to the right is begging for my attention. When I finally acknowledge the sensation, I see a man.

Christ, he’s tall. With his back toward me, I watch him. He drags a sponge covered in white suds across the car in my neighbor’s driveway. He’s wearing a hat with dark wispy pieces of hair sticking out from the sides. As much as I enjoy the view of his backside, I’m dying for him to turn around.

I bite my cheeks as he walks around to the other side of the car. Once I see his sharp, angular face, all logical thoughts die, and I duck behind the garbage can.

That couldn’t have been…no. There’s no way I just saw Grayson washing my neighbor’s car.

I yelp, slapping away a wasp that stings my arm, leaving behind searing hot pain that spreads through my muscle. I let out a colorful string of curse words, inventing a few new ones.

Tears sting my eyes as I hear the crunch of gravel beneath someone’s shoes, getting closer and closer. Suddenly it’s no longer shady, and when I open my eyes, I realize the garbage can was dragged away. My gaze slowly moves up his body, landing on a face I’m all too familiar with.

I use my hand to shield away the sun and his gaze. “No.” I don’t know what I’m disagreeing to. All I know is I’m completelynotokay with this scenario. I gape up at him, my jaw permanently unhinged.

Grayson stares down at me with an amused grin I despise. “Maybe you can school me on what a ‘motherfucking cockbucket’ is after you tell me why you’re ransacking my neighbor’s garbage can.”

“What?” I shake my head. “Yourneighbor?” Still on the ground, I say, “You live here?”

His pompous smile hasn’t wavered for a second. “Yes.”

I hoist myself up and I dig a finger into his chest. “Are youstalkingme?”What the hell is happening right now?

A dark eyebrow shoots up. “Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing, seeing as I caught you watching me from behind a trash can.”

I laugh without humor and pull out my phone. “Okay, I’m callin?—"

He snatches the device with graceful strength and puts it in his front pocket tucking his hands away as well, making my skin flame with annoyance. I’m not sure who I was even going to call and what I was going to say. “As much as I love being a part of the scenes you cause, I’m a little busy.” He gestures to the car. Soapy water drips onto the white pebbles that make up the driveway. “Oh, and Macy?”

“What?” I growl.

“You’ve got some dirt—” He steps into my personal space, bringing his soapy thumb over my cheek. “Right there.”

I jolt backward and lose my balance. His beautifully crafted hands still me.I’d rather him let me fall.

He smells woodsy but being this close to him I catch a hint of something else. It’s almost like…strawberries? I meet his eyes and bring my hand into the front pocket of his shorts to retrieve my phone. I pay no mind to the goosebumps that erupt over my body.

He’s watching me expressionless, but I swear there’s a flicker of something behind his eyes that disappears too quickly. His hand shoots out, grabbing my forearm and inspecting the angry red welt as though he’s just now realizing why I was cursing to begin with. “Are you allergic?” His eyes flit to mine.

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, I’d assume your throat would be swollen shut by now if you were. Since you haven’t stopped reprimanding me for thepast two minutes, I think it’s safe to say you’re fine.” He runs the pad of his finger over the raised skin. “Does it hurt?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t look like you’re in pain.”

“How astute of you,” I say dryly. “I have a high pain threshold.”

“Well, I think you’ll live.” He smirks. “I’ll be at The BARnacle tonight around seven. I’d assume to see you there since, well, you’re stalking me.” He turns and walks off, hosing the suds off his car.

I scramble away, tripping over my own two feet toward the front door. I hear husky laughter coming from his driveway. I lock my door, cursing fate that Grayson, of all eight billion people, is my new neighbor.

I don’t care how hot this house can get, I don’t need him watching me. He peaks up when he hears the loud squeak of me shutting the first window. I don’t bother waiting for his reaction as I move onto the next one, until the house is only lit by the sun coming through the sliding glass door.

I drink the warm black coffee. I can already feel a bead of sweat dripping down my forehead, so I take an ice-cold shower once I finish the mug.

Still hungry, I make a quick trip to the gas station’s convenient store and get a few snacks to hold me over until I get groceries. Thankfully, Grayson is nowhere in sight.

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