Page 94 of Life of the Party

“I’d already heard enough.” I could see my parents from the corner of my eye, watching from the entrance. Mom had her arms crossed in disapproval, staring at us. I ignored her, turning my gaze back to Grey. I looked up into his gorgeous face and waited for his answer, his explanation. Our whole relationship hung on it.

“Mackenzie.” His face softened with concern and he grasped me by the arms. His touch on my skin was enough to make me tremble, and I could feel all the pain and all the anger start melting away. I grasped at it, trying to remember, trying to hold on to the hurt and the anguish like I knew I should, though every bone in my body was screaming to forgive him. Aching to forgive him.

“Mackenzie,” Grey repeated. “That was nothing. I promise you. We met one night after the studio, and we danced a couple times, and that’s it. She’s nobody. Please, look at me.” He lifted my chin with his hand, forcing me to stare into his gorgeous blue eyes, deep and sincere. “You have to believe me. I told you I wouldn’t screw this up. I would never…I could never…”

“I want to believe you,” I admitted breathlessly, daring to hope. But I had no proof. Only his word. I stared up into his face—so honest, so innocent and concerned—and my eyes burned with fresh tears. I loved him enough that suddenly, none of it mattered. Grey’s expression told me everything I needed to know, restored to me all the hope that had been lost.

Maybe someone stronger, someone better than me would’ve held out, would’ve demanded some proof, more of an apology, a better explanation.

I just didn’t care anymore. I wanted him too badly.

Wordlessly, I stepped into his arms. The moment I felt them wrap around me, I knew I was exactly where I needed to be. He kissed my hair as I nuzzled my cheek against his hard chest, letting his warmth and his scent envelop me. I could hear his heartbeat through the soft fabric of his suit, and I shut my eyes, savouring the sound.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke softly in my ear.

“I missed you,” I whispered. “So much.”

“Ahem.”

Regretfully, I opened my eyes. My father was standing near us, his arms crossed impatiently. “The reception’s about to start, young lady.” His tone was thick with disapproval. I just nodded at him. I didn’t want to leave the strength and comfort of Grey’s arms for him or anybody.

But then Grey pulled away from me, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Hello, sir,” he stretched his hand to my father. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Grey Lewis.”

“Grey.” Gruffly, Dad shook his hand. “We really need to get going.”

Completely unaffected by my father’s obvious displeasure, Grey and I followed him through the grand marble foyer. Grey’s hand held mine; my fingers laced through his. Every now and then, I’d look up at him cautiously and smile like I couldn’t believe he was there, like he was too good to be true. He’d smirk at me, just like I loved, and squeeze my hand as if he felt the same way.

“So, that’s the great Marcy, is it? The one in white?” Grey wondered quietly as we approached the rest of the wedding party waiting outside the ballroom.

“Yeah, how’d you guess?” I smiled. “Pretty gorgeous, huh?” I couldn’t keep the sour note of jealousy from leaking into my voice.

To my utter amazement, Grey just shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess so. She’s definitely pretty, but she doesn’t do it for me.” He looked pointedly my way. “I don’t think she even compares to some.”

I looked up at him, surprised. “You don’t mean that.”

“The hell I don’t.” If it hadn’t been for his eyes, smiling and sincere as they studied me fondly, I never would have believed him. I found myself beaming at his words, moved by his sentiment, by far the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me.

“Mackenzie.” My mother’s sharp voice interrupted my bliss. “They’re waiting.”

“Sorry. Mom, this is Grey.” I introduced.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Taylor.” Grey held out his hand. Mom stared at it a moment, as if it might bite her, and then hesitantly shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you.” Her voice sounded like it was anything but. “You’ll be joining us then? Come, I’ll show you to the table.” Her voice was brisk and clipped. “Mackenzie.” She warned.

“Okay, Mom.” I rolled my eyes at her, flashing Grey an apologetic smile, trying to compensate for the obvious lack of welcome shown by my parents.

“I’ll see you in there,” I promised.

Grey nodded and turned to follow my mother, who was already rampaging ahead.

CHAPTER 38

The banquet hall was decorated as lavishly as the church had been: all satin and silver, dripping with fragrant white flowers, glowing with soft white candlelight. It was extravagant, and elegant, and expensive. I wondered how much my parents had spent. Obviously, nothing was too good for their little girl.

I couldn’t help but feel for Grey, trapped at a table with them. I’d never thought of my parents as snobby before, but the way they were treating him—like he wasn’t good enough to be sitting there, like they resented his very presence—told me otherwise. They weren’t even giving him a chance.

To earn my eternal gratitude, Aunt Linda made up for my parents’ disdain, talking with Grey from across the table as they looked on, listening in with a frown.

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