Page 55 of Her Pretty Words

“You’re looking at me differently,” he says. There’s no smirk or grin. It’s just him and I without our masks, getting closer and closer on that tight rope.

“How am I looking at you?” My voice doesn’t sound like mine. It’s too breathless, too choppy.

“Like you don’t hate me.”

“I don’t,” I whisper.

His eyes shut when I say it. Moments pass before he says, “Promise me something.” His eyes open again, but they are sad.

“Okay.” I breathe.

“Remember it,” he says with so much weight. “Remember this. Not hating me. Just—” his voice cracks and I want to fix it. Fix whatever it is that’s making the full moon frown. “Don’t forget it. Okay?”

He’s scared I’ll change my mind? I feel an intense need to remedy it, so I say, “I won’t forget. I promise.”

He kisses me but it’s different. This one feels like goodbye. Like an apology. Like he’s trying to savor the last bite before it’s gone. Maybe he’s right to feel this way. I mean, I live across the country.

He lifts me easily, and I hook my legs around his waist. The kiss changes to something hungry. Breathless, until we’re both starving for something forbidden in a place like this. Where anyone could walk by. His lips graze my neck, and I grip onto the back of his and let my head hang back, exposing the column of my throat to him. He runs his lips over it, and the unexpectedness makes me sigh out a moan.

He’s so warm that every place we are connected heats, making me think of a fire so hot that it burns blue. And then I realize that his eyes aren’t ice-cold glaciers, nor are they the full moon. They’re blue flames.

“Mace, you’ve gotta stop me.”

“Why?”

“When it comes to you, my inhibition seems to evaporate, and I’m moments away from tearing both our clothes off.” His words shouldn’t make mewantso much. He sets me down easily and places a gentle kiss to my temple. “Sorry,” he says. “I lose myself a little bit in you.”

I laugh. It’s loud and joyful and something unexpected, and it lights uphisface. This is not what I was expecting today when I woke up, but I’m loving every second of it. The spontaneity is something I’ve always starved for. It’s a need close to breathing for me, and Walter never cared to meet it. Grayson doesn’t try. He justisspontaneous. From the moment we met, he went with the flow. His flight was canceled but he wasn’t stressed, he made the most of it. He made it fun. He makes everything fun. I don’t even think he realizes it.

The cold, rude man I met in the airport was yet another mask. Grayson is warm and kind. He’s fun and playful. He’s sweet and tentative.

I take his hand and run, our laughter chases us, hay crunches beneath our shoes. My heart races and it feels as if it’s sayingmine mine mine.We reach countless dead ends until we make it to the end of the corn maze. It spits us out to a different part of the field with bubbles filling the air and children chasing after them.

A dog barks somewhere in the distance. I search for it, until I see a sign that saysPet Adoptions.There’s a giant dog in a crate, wiggling its butt and howling at Grayson and I when we get closer.

“Would you like to see her?” an old woman asks, wearing a purple T-shirt that says she’s a volunteer for a pet rescue.

I quickly nod.

The woman opens the crate and quickly clips a leash on the dog. The husky darts out and jumps on Grayson, trying to kiss his face but he’s too tall to reach. He crouches down and thedog licks his cheek and makes winy noises, as if it can’t contain its excitement. It looks at me and howls. I crouch down beside Grayson and run my fingers through its soft fur.

“Her name is Daisy. I foster her,” the woman says. “Sad story of how we got this sweet girl. The couple she was with since she was a puppy both passed away. Such a tragedy. A friend went to clean out their apartment a week later and found her in the bathroom drinking from the toilet bowl.” She looks between Grayson and I. “She’s two and a half, which is the perfect age to me. She’s potty trained and won’t chew on your shoes or destroy your home, but she’s still young and energetic. She’d be perfect for a young couple like yourselves.”

Neither him nor I correct her assumption. Daisy is so happy; you’d never know how she ended up in a foster home by looking at her. She’s so precious, I’d take her in a heartbeat, but I have no idea what I’m going to do with my life, and she needs stability. I hope she finds a loving home.

The laughter bubbling in the air is one I haven’t heard before. The joyful sound is coming from Grayson. Daisy’s licking the palm of his hand. His dimples are deeper than I’ve ever seen.

He continues to play with Daisy, patting her side and saying, “Who’s a good girl?” He looks reluctant when he stands and thanks the lady fostering her. She gives us a tight-lipped smile, then puts Daisy back in her crate.

Grayson flicks his head, gesturing me to follow him, and as soon as we begin to walk away, Daisy howls and my heart breaks. The bright smile on Grayson’s face has vanished.

I’m too focused on him to realize where he’s led us, until we’re showing our wrist bands to a worker and getting on a hay bale ride. There are two young girls sitting across from us. They have the same blond hair, and one looks about three years older than the other. I assume they’re sisters. They have excited smiles on their faces.

We go along a trail, weaving through rows of hay and some trees, until suddenly a person wearing a Halloween mask pops out from a divot in the hay. I screech and so does the youngest girl in front of me. Her big sister starts laughing, which immediately makes the little girl relax. I look at Grayson, who’s chuckling at me. “You didn’t tell me this was ahauntedhayride.”

He leans down to whisper in my ear. “I know. I just like watching you cause a scene.”

The ride is only about five or so minutes, and each time someone pops out, I jump a little, which makes Grayson laugh. The sisters in front of us don’t even flinch, and they join Grayson in laughing at my expense. I can tell the little girls look out for one another by how the older one’s presence comforts the younger one. Growing up, I’d see how my friends were with their siblings, and a part of me always envied them. It would be nice to have someone constantly by my side. By the time it’s done, I’ve scooted as close as humanly possible to Grayson out of pure instinct.

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