Page 37 of Life of the Party

He was referring to my stupid little song and dance number. I put my head in my hands and laughed. “We were doing tequila…”

“Mackenzie?”

“Yes?” I looked up at him, biting my lip. He stared at me, and I watched as his eyes traced over my figure, from my calves to my face, slowly, taking in every detail.

I felt heat in my cheeks. “What?”

He glanced up at my eyes again, distracted from his study by the sound of my voice. Grey’s expression was hard to read, but his blue eyes seemed…soft somehow. Like he was thinking tender thoughts.

“Um…” he smiled at me, pointing downwards.

Then I realized. I gasped in renewed horror.

Looking down, I had expected to see my shirt and jeans…but was greeted instead by the sight of my pink bra, the tight skin of my stomach, my belly button ring and my black VS boy shorts. I was in my bra and panties. I was in my underwear. In front of Grey. I looked up at him quickly, mortified.

His face comforted me, though. Grey was staring at me with admiration. He smiled and looked me over again. I didn’t know what to do; I was torn, wanting to both cover myself up but also wanting him to see. I hoped I looked okay. I hoped I looked skinny and pretty. I knew if I hadn’t been so drunk, I’d neverstillbe standing there in my underwear.

I would’ve died of embarrassment by now.

“I threw up…” was my explanation. I shrugged and smiled at him.

“Thank goodness for that.” He grinned.

“What are you…what are you doing here?” I wondered. “This was supposed to be girls only. Hence…” I waved a hand over myself and the obvious lack of clothing.

“This is what girls do at sleepovers?” he smirked again, “I’m getting invited to the next one.” I giggled with him. “No. I don’t know. Zack told me to meet him here after practice. He just had to go pick up some shit. Oh, wait.” He turned and looked out the window at the headlights that shone up suddenly. “Here they are now. Take this.”

Quickly Grey unzipped his hoodie, revealing a plain white tee underneath, and stepped over to me. I prayed I didn’t smell like tequila vomit. He held up the sweater, and I turned to shove my arms through the sleeves, my skin tingling at the proximity of his body to my bare flesh. I turned around again, and he slowly zipped the sweater up, his fingertips brushing me lightly as he did so, sending shivers through me.

My body sang at his touch, however slight.

I somehow found the courage to meet his eyes. We stood so close…the air between us was charged, thick almost. I swallowed and parted my lips…

“Oh yeah. We’re going to kick ass tomorrow.” The front door slammed, jarring us out of our moment. I stepped back from Grey, taking a deep, steadying breath, hiding behind the island as Zack and Alex barged through the door. My cheeks were still flushed. I hoped they wouldn’t notice.

Grey’s hoodie smelled amazing. While the guys greeted each other, I buried my nose in the soft, warm fabric that had rested near his neck. It was warm, sweet but masculine, with a hint of cigarette smoke. I breathed deep.

“What the fuck?” Charlie came down the hallway, her hands on her hips. She smiled as Zack kissed her. “I thought I told you we were having a girl’s night.”

“Oh, yeah. We vetoed that.” Zack grinned, his box of beer clinking as he set it on the counter.

“Mac. Nice sweater.” Alex winked at me, passing by on his way to the fridge, his long, browny-blonde hair in a knot on the top of his head.

“Looks good on her, don’t you think?” Grey asked. He was alarmingly close again, standing just behind me. His hand trailed lightly down my arm.

“Looks better off.” He murmured, for my ears only.

After I changed, I handed Grey back his sweater. Charlie had lent me a snug, long-sleeved black t-shirt and some jeans to wear, her eyes bright with laughter when I told her what happened with Grey, how he’d seen…basically everything. And didn’t seem to mind. It didn’t mean anything, though; of course, it didn’t—what heterosexual guy would object to seeing a half-naked chick?

He was just in it for fun. He was just in it for fun. I had to keep running the sentence over and over in my head. I wouldn’t be the stupid, naïve seventeen-year-old again. I could be mature like them. I could keep my cool. I could have fun and make out with a boy without forming any kind of attachment.

Yeah, right.

I knew I didn’t have a hope. I knew I’d be passionately in love with Grey, no matter what I told myself. He just had that hold on me. Like Riley said, he had a “power” over me. It was true.

I watched Grey from the couch…watched the way he moved, the way he chased a rail, the way he smiled and laughed and adjusted the hat on his head….wishing he felt more for me than just a passing interest. Wishing he saw me as more than just someone to fool around with.

I also knew it didn’t matter, not now. I would be whatever he’d let me be.

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