Greyson gives the best hugs. He always has. They're stronger than anything I've ever known, but not in a way that makes me feel smothered, more so that holding me isn't enough for him. He has to feel every ounce of me pressed into every ounce of him, and in this moment of closeness, I'm awake somehow, and I feel more alive than I have in a long time.
His arms are warm and comforting as they wrap around my tiny frame and hold me against him, and for the first time in almost eight months, I feel like I can breathe. I feel like I'm home.
I close my eyes and stifle a moan as I inhale his recognizable scent of laundry detergent and woody cologne. Goosebumps erupt across every inch of my body when he turns his face and buries it in my neck – his soft lips brushing against my skin – and the heat of his palms burn into the material on the back of my dress. I don't want to let him go, and from the way he's digging his fingertips into my back, he doesn't either. It's only when I hear Jo clear her throat that I realize how long we've been holding on to each other.
"I'm so sorry, Grey." I pull away from him and tuck my hands behind my back. It's the only way I can be sure I won't reach for him again. "Your dad...he was...I'm just really sorry."
Greyson brushes his index finger under his nose and clears his throat. "Thanks for coming. I know how hard it must have been for you to get out of Manhattan. I really appreciate it."
"Yeah, of course. Thanks for having me."
He peeks at me from underneath his long back eyelashes, and the corners of his mouth curl up in an amused smile. "Um..."
"I'm sorry." I shake my head and laugh awkwardly. "That was a weird thing to say."
"It's alright." He reaches out and brushes my hair off my forehead. "I'm happy to see you."
"I wish I could have been here for you when it happened – for your family. I'm just – I'm sorry I wasn't here for you. Again."
"Delaney, it's really okay. None of us expected you to be here. It's been a while and we've all moved on. Right?"
Well...okay then.
"Yeah. Right." I settle into a fake smile. "Of course."
His tie is crooked, and on instinct I reach out and adjust it, and almost as soon as I open my mouth to ask if it would be okay if I sat with his family, a gorgeous, petite, yet curvaceous woman with thick, lustrous deep auburn hair sandwiches herself between us. She's dressed in a dark gray, sleeveless wool dress, with a belt that accentuates her narrow waist and sweetheart neckline that highlights her voluptuous chest. The dress fits her like a second skin. She's absolutely stunning.
"Babe, your mom is ready to start the service." She doesn't even notice me as she drags her obsidian black nails down the sleeve of his navy-blue suit jacket. "You ready?"
My shoulders sag, and I let out a hard sigh as I watch them together. I don't miss the way her eyes turn to animated hearts when she looks up at him, or the way she's comfortable enough to caress his body – like she's been doing it for a while now – and his face softens when she speaks. Greyson mentioned how we've all moved on, so is this beautiful specimen his new girlfriend?
YOU ARE READING
Where the Waves Whisper
RomanceDelaney James seems to have it all-a successful husband, a stylish Manhattan townhouse, and a thriving career in fashion journalism-until it all falls apart. Her husband leaves her, shattering the perfect life she once knew. Heartbroken and desperat...