Page 13 of Her Pretty Words

“I don’t like Walter.” It’s an easy opinion to come to.

She rolls onto her back, staring at the ceiling like she’s in deep thought. “Goodnight, Grayson.” She rolls over, pulling the string to the lamp beside her, flooding the room with darkness.

I hear the static of the sheets as she tosses and turns.

“Macy?” I call into the dark.

Her soft voice does strange things to my chest. “Yeah?”

I speak before I lose the nerve. “You’re too good for him.”

Silence stretches.

“I know,” she whispers so quietly, I might’ve imagined it.

A clicking sound forces my eyes open. I blink several times, allowing my vision to adjust to the dark. I sit up, and slowly, the events of last night return to my memory. I face her.

Macy sits against the headboard, the comforter loosely wrapped around her and falling from her shoulders as she types away on her laptop, oblivious to the world around her. She wears big black framed glasses that reflect the white screen. The hair that was smooth and laying perfect yesterday sticks up and out in every direction like she slept through a storm.

Before I can filter it, gentle laughter passes through my lips and her face snaps toward me. It’s slightly terrifying, her face glowing from the screen. Everything else is cloaked in darkness, like she’s holding a flashlight beneath her chin around a campfire, telling scary stories.

“What time is it?” I ask, my voice choppy from sleep.

“Six.”

“In the morning?” I rub my eyes.

“Obviously.” She turns back to her computer and continues typing, as if my presence is easy to disregard.

I don’t know what compels me to, but I climb out of my bed and into hers. I read aloud. “Fighting for his love was like trying to reach the shore in a riptide.” She tries to close the laptop, but I pry it from her hands. “The harder you try?—”

“You are infuriating!”

I hold it out of reach. “The faster the air leaves your lungs until you’re nothing but the water that destroyed you.”

She stands on the bed and finally pries the technology from my hands.

I face her. “Is that for one of your books?”

She nods.

“Was it about the love interest? Because I don’t know much about romance novels, but it doesn’t sound like she likes that dude.”

She tilts her head back and laughs. My stomach heats.I caused that. “No. It’s about her husband. The love interest comes later in the story.”

“Scandalous. I like it.” I cross my ankles on the bed.

“Want to know how she meets him? The love interest, I mean.” She lights up, so I’m quick to nod. “He’s her husband’s dad,” she says slowly.

I let that sink in. “No!” I gasp.

She laughs. “Kidding.”

I sit up a little more. “Well? How do they meet?”

She shrugs with a little smile. “I guess you’ll have to read it to find out.”

“You’re leaving me on a serious cliff hanger here, Minerva.” I grin. “When does it come out?”

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