Page 35 of Her Pretty Words

“I know that, smartass.” She doesn’t supply me with anything else, so I say, “I knew things would change between us after you kissed me.” I don’t want things to change, at least not in the way that they have.

Her eyes widen as if she never expected me to bring it up. “I didn’t kiss you.”

I grin. “I knew you’d say that.”

She’s squeezing her fists, the first sign she’s getting irritated.

“I think we can both set our pride aside for a moment and acknowledge the fact that you did, in fact, kiss me.” I look off into the distance, remembering it. “I mean, youreallykissed me.”

She turns from me and starts running, so I match her pace beside her. “You’ve hardly acknowledged me since.” It feels like my chest has been punched out. “You regret it.” I stop running. So does she.

“How could I regret something I didn’t do?”

“Fine, Macy. You didn’t kiss me.Ikissedyou. Does that make you feel better?”

“Slightly.”

“Okay, if that’s how you want to see it, but you kissed me back.”

She shrugs. “What are you, twelve? Who cares, it was just a kiss.”

I chuckle at the way she tries to downplay what happened between us. “If Elliot didn’t find us when he did, we both would’ve had our clothes off and gone home with sand in some really awkward places.”

Pink creeps into her cheeks and she looks away. “You…”

“Me?” I bite back another smile, remembering a similar conversation in New York.

That must set her over the edge because she faces me then, anger and distain pulling at her expression. She marches forward and pokes me hard in the chest. “You presumptuous prick! I would never have sex with you, let alone desperately beneath a lifeguard tower like some hormonal teenager!” she shouts.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” I hold my hands up, but she doesn’t look any less angry. “I shouldn’t have said that?—”

“Just when I was starting to think there were layers to you, you just proved that you’re everything I assumed you to be from the moment we met.” She marches past, her hair swinging behind her while she walks away from me.

I feel her words in every part of myself and it hurts.She despised me before, but now I’ve managed to make herhateme.

Chapter 13

Macy

Iwent online and bought a treadmill that morning because I’m not going to let Grayson take away my newfound love for running.Wow. That’s a sentence I never thought I’d say.

Every time I’m able to run just a little farther, it gives me a sense of confidence. Plus, it helps my creativity, which is useful given that I’m an author.

I abhor how much I lust to feel Grayson’s touch on my skin. I despise myself for how quickly my feelings are growing for him. I barely know him, yet I nearly turned into a puddle at the sight of his dimples, so much so that Ikissedhim. It’s exactly the sort of thing I promised myself I’d never do after my relationship with Walter.

When I told Elliot about the treadmill I bought secondhand, he insisted on coming with me to pick it up. I didn’t interject, since I had to go to a stranger’s house to get it. I was glad to have Elliot with me to deter any weirdos from being, well, weird. And he has a pickup truck, so that helped.

Sarah met us back at my house and we drank wine while I set it up, and by set it up, I mean plugged it into the wall. We laughed and got wine drunk, playing games, and catching up on each other’s lives.

Occasionally, I’ll catch a glimpse of Grayson’s house through my open windows, and deep down I wanted him to be here, drinking and playing charades with my friends. I blamed that silly thought on the alcohol.

The following week was spent in a similar fashion. I ran on my new treadmill, but it wasn’t the same as running outside beside Grayson. I found myself missing his arrogant comments. I worked at the dinner table until my fingers cramped and my eyes ached. Then I’d hangout with my friends.

Tonight, I’m hosting Sarah and Tammy for a girl’s night. We’re sitting on my back porch and picking at my sad attempt of a charcuterie board. I even strung star shaped string lights along the porch to give it some life. One of the stars occasionally flickers, but I think it gives the space some character.

“Your grandma would be happy you are staying here,” Tammy says.

“Yeah.” I smile. “She would.” I glance at the crescent in the sky, which was my grandma’s favorite moon phase.

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