As the screen fades to black, I feel a few drops of moisture on my head. Looking up, I see Gray holding back tears to no avail. I smile up at him.

"Did you like the movie?" I ask, a teasing tone in my voice. He wipes the stray tears away, shrugging. "It was alright."

I raise my eyebrows up at him. "I see the tears on your face, Gray. A Walk To Remember changed your life, admit it."

He scrunches his face. "Fine. I guess my life is a bit sadder now that I've seen that movie."

I kiss his jaw. "I think I know a way to brighten up your life a bit." Moving onto his lap, I draw my face toward his again. I intend to take full advantage of Gray being in my bedroom while I have an empty house. He allows me to slide onto him with ease, completely on board with my plans.

We're about to lose ourselves once again, when the door suddenly slams shut. Both of us freeze, listening to the sound of high heels and dress shoes walking across the hardwood floors. Gray's hands are stuck on my hips.

My mom's voice carries up from the bottom of the staircase. "River! Who the fuck do you think you are, inviting people into our home without permission? Whose car is out front?"

I roll my eyes, and Gray tenses under me. I'm about to throw on clothes to deal with them downstairs when we hear footsteps clicking up the stairs. We look at each other, both thinking the same thing.

Fucking shit.

"They're not supposed to be home from the country club yet," I whisper-shout as we rush to throw on clothes. I almost fall over trying to tug on a pair of shorts, and Gray is searching the room for where he threw his shirt.

When my parents burst into my room, they find me and Grayson sitting on the bed unassumingly. Their eyes flit from Gray's stone expression to my apprehensive one. My mother takes in his broad frame and cold, refined features, and her lips quirk into a satisfied smile. My father notices this and straightens his back, wrapping his arm around my mother's waist.

My mom hits me with a hardened gaze, jerking her head in Gray's direction as if he's not sitting right there. Her voice softens to the tone she reserves for high-class social events. "Where are your manners, River? Introduce us to your friend here."

Her sarcastic emphasis on the word friend brings an unwilling blush to my face. To the public ear, her mocking tone is unnoticable. But after years of withstanding her subtle jabs, I hear her message loud and clear: how the hell did you manage to befriend such an attractive, obviously rich young man?

I roll my eyes. "This is Grayson Maddox. Gray, these are my loving parents."

My mom shoots me a warning look for the sarcastic tone in my introduction, smoothing her pencil skirt and rushing over to greet him. She widens her arms for a hug, clearly used to being accepted by those she greets, but Gray doesn't return it. I smile as I watch him stand up and hold out a stiff hand between them. She shakes his hand gingerly.

She shakes off the rejection, plastering a flattering smile on her face. Her white teeth gleam predatorily. "I'm Diane. Pleased to meet you. I bet you've been wondering where River got her plain looks from, and now you know it's certainly not from me." She laugh as if she just cracked the worlds funniest joke.

Less than a minute in and I'm already shaking with discomfort and bottled-up rage.

My father reaches toward Gray with a firm hand, executing a handshake I know he's perfected after years spent at social events. "That's one fine car you have parked out there. The newest model. I'd say that beauty costs about one-hundred fifty thousand, right son?"

Gray doesn't return the friendliness, only saying, "Actually, two hundred thousand."

My dad doesn't catch the coldness clinging to Gray's voice and forces out a jovial laugh. "I was only fifty thousand off. I'd say, with that kind of money, you probably have your pick of the litter. With that said, my wife and I have to wonder why you've chosen to spend your time with our daughter?"

You could have any girl. Why have you settled for our dull River?

Gray and I remain silent and still as my parents share a knowing laugh, bonding over their mutual distaste for their own daughter. I drop my gaze to my hands in my lap and feel the insecurity wash over me, like an old, heavy blanket that's been suffocating me my whole life. Its familiarity causes my throat to tighten with embarassment.

"So," my father continues, patting his stomach from the full laugh he just let out, "What do your parents do for a living? I assume that beautiful machinery in my driveway doesn't pay for itself."

Not anticipating him coming clean about his illegal street racing, I expect a smooth lie, which he delivers gracefully. Gray's voice is edged with eyes, sharp enough to cut. "My parents aren't in the picture. I trade stocks and own shares in multiple companies, sir."

My dad doesn't detect the scorn dripping off of Gray's last word. An admiring grin spreads across his face. My mom beats him to it, trying to fluff Gray's ego now that she knows his worth. "That's quite impressive," she purrs. I gag.

She glances at me momentarily before returning her provocative stare back to Gray. "I can't imagine what a self-made man like you is doing with River. She hasn't lifted a finger her whole life! I doubt my daughter even knows what a stock is."

I stand up, finding my feet below me despite the debilitating embarassment clouding my senses. Without looking my parents in the eyes, I grab Gray's arm and pull him out the door with me. Hoping none of them can see the pained expression on my face, I lower my head and just keep walking.

"Don't be so sensitive, River! We were just kidding around," my mother justifies as we leave. Neither of them even attempt to console me or keep me from leaving, which I wholly expected. Gray keeps up, not saying a word.

I slam the front door shut behind us and start making my way to Gray's car, not wanting to draw out this awful moment any longer. Even outside, I hear my mother's shrill laughter upstairs, and I know they're only digging into me even more. I wipe the skin under my eyes angrily.

"I hate how I'm always crying in front of you," I say, my voice thick with distress. Gray's hands grasp my wrists, keeping me from nervously pulling at my face anymore. I hiccup. "I'm sorry you had to see that. I hate how they make me feel."

"Hey, hey, look at me, Riv," he orders gently, wiping my tears away. Reluctantly, I look into his eyes, embarassed that he has to see me like this. I feel like I've been stripped bare by my parents, and I wish I didn't seem so weak.

Gray lets go of my wrists as I calm down more, and the only sound between us is the steadying of my uneven breaths. Looking into his attentive eyes, my emotions level out and I gather my thoughts.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he whispers, bringing me closer to him. I take a few deep breaths, taking in his comforting scent. I say, "It's just...I never wanted you to see me like that. They just bring out the worst in me and I don't want you to think less of me."

He laughs softly, trying to bring a smile to my face. "Your parents just humiliated you, and you think I have a lower opinion of you? Riv, I was infuriated by the shit they were saying about you."

I blink hard, focusing on his words. "They're just so...I don't know. I hate how they make me feel so small." Standing in front of Gray as he looks down at me from several inches above, I feel small now too, but in a totally different way. I feel protected, cared for.

I wrap my arms around his neck, glad that I don't have to weather my mini storm alone. "Thank you for putting up with that. I wouldn't have blamed you if had just left as soon as they got home."

"You're the one who's had to deal with that for the past eighteen years. I can't imagine how they are when guests aren't around," Gray assures. He studies my face for a few seconds, making sure that I'm alright. He adds on, "Nothing will ever change the way I feel about you. Especially not your shitty parents."

I laugh, agreeing with his assessment of my parents who are, indeed, shitty. My heart beats against his firm chest, and it's easy to forget everything that just happened. "I have to say, I am a bit concerned about how easily you made up that lie about stocks. They ate that shit up."

His raises his thick eyebrows at me, a half-smile forming at the corner of his mouth. "Who said I was lying? You think illegal street racing got me that penthouse?"

Now it's my turn to be confused. I observe his face traces of humor but come up empty. "You actually trade stocks? Gray, why have you never told me this before?"

He chuckles before answering honestly. "Trading stocks isn't exactly the most attractive thing a guy can do."

I grin roguishly. "Are you good at it?"

"My bank account balance seems to think so."

"Then I think trading stocks is the sexiest thing a man can do," I purr, grabbing the back of his neck. Gray's eyes flash with magnetism as I close in on his lips, showing him just how much I appreciate everything about him. How attractive I find every aspect of him to be.

With the way he pushes me against him, pressing us together until there isn't an inch of space between any part of us, I receive the same desperate message from him. When we pull apart, those three words are ready to fly out of my mouth and change everything as we know it. Feeling the intensity of his tender gaze on me, I want to tell him more than anything.

But it's too soon and I wait a second too long. Before I can take the plunge, he's giving me a soft goodbye kiss on my forehead, and the moment is gone.

I feel naked without the tight warmth of his arms around me, and I watch as he walks to his car. Crossing my arms across my chest and kicking myself for hesitating, I watch his car fade as he drives off into the night.

My heart aches in my chest, longing for the feeling of him against me and wishing I'd been just a bit braver.

♔ ♕ ♔

Author's Note

I LOVE constructive criticism — it helps me grow as an author and I appreciate it deeply. But straight-up mean comments that directly insult my storytelling abilities are not welcome (ie. calling my characters/plot 'pathetic' or 'spineless'). For any book, realize that you are reading something that the author poured their time, thoughts, and passion into, then think twice about tearing it down with a single sentence.

If you have something nasty to say, I'll be happy to take it up with you through direct messaging...unless you're too cowardly to confront me directly. It's easy to be mean when you don't have to deal with the one you're insulting, isn't it?

To all the kind readers, I love you so much and wish that I could kiss every one of you. On the lips.

- Kenzie <3