Delaney James was wearing Chanel the night her husband told her he didn't love her anymore.
In an instant, her picture-perfect Manhattan life-complete with a brownstone on the Upper East Side, a blossoming career as a fashion journalist, and a devas...
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Greyson gives the best hugs. He always has. There's something about the way he holds me that makes it seem as though wrapping his arms around me isn't quite enough, like he needs to pull every inch of me against him just to be certain I'm really there.
The moment his arms close around me, something inside me gives.
I sink against his chest and close my eyes, breathing in the familiar combination of laundry detergent and woody cologne I haven't smelled in almost eight months. His face settles against my neck, and his hands press firmly into my back as mine clutch the fabric of his suit jacket. For the first time since my dad told me to come home, my mind goes quiet.
For the first time in almost eight months, I feel like I can breathe.
I feel like I'm home.
Neither of us seems willing to be the first one to let go, and it isn't until Jo clears her throat beside us that I realize we've probably been standing like this much longer than two people who aren't together should.
Reluctantly, I pull away.
"I'm so sorry, Grey." I tuck my hands behind my back, mostly because I don't trust them not to reach for him again. "Your dad... I don't even know what to say. I'm just really sorry."
Greyson clears his throat and brushes a finger beneath his nose. "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." I give him a small smile. "Thanks for having me."
He looks at me for a second, amusement slowly replacing some of the sadness in his eyes. "Um..."
The words replay in my head.
"Oh my God." I close my eyes. "I'm sorry. That was a weird thing to say."
"It's alright."
"I made it sound like you're hosting a dinner party."
That earns me the smallest hint of a smile, and seeing it does something painful and wonderful to my heart at the same time.
"I'm happy to see you," he says.
"Me too."
That's when I notice his tie is crooked, and before I can think better of it, I reach up and straighten it, smoothing the knot into place the way I've done a hundred times before. Greyson looks down at me but doesn't move, and for one strange second, it feels as though the past never happened.
I'm about to ask if he would mind if I sat with his family when a woman with thick auburn hair suddenly steps between us.
I immediately drop my hands.
She's tall and striking in a fitted charcoal-gray dress, with the kind of effortless beauty that would catch my attention anywhere.
Under normal circumstances, I'd probably admire her dress.
