Page 27 of Matched with the Grumpy Secret Prince

He stops walking and turns around to look at me, a sharp look in his eyes. “It’s not something you said wrong. It’s everything. The things you say, the things you don’t say. The way you act and carry yourself. It’s you!”

His voice carries a tone of exasperation laced with annoyance. I can also see in his eyes that he is not angry at me. He genuinely looks frustrated right now. But it also feels strange that he would say all that to me for no good reason. My stomach twists as I wait for him to speak.

“I really should get going. We can communicate via email moving forward.” And with that, he’s off. I’m too stunned to call after him or even utter a word.

What was that?

The drive back to Mia’s house is peaceful, the kind of quiet that lets my thoughts wander without interruption. By the time I pull into Mia’s driveway, the sky is a deep indigo, the last hints of daylight fading behind the treetops. I step inside, greeted immediately by the smell of garlic and herbs wafting from the kitchen. Mia is at the counter, chopping vegetables with her usual flair, humming along to a playlist of pop classics.

“You’re just in time,” she says, flashing me a grin as I walk in. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

I drop my bag by the stairs and go to the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cabinet. “Perfect. I need a drink first.”

Mia arches a brow as I pour myself a generous glass of wine. “Rough day?”

“Not rough,” I say, leaning against the counter. “Just… interesting and weird.”

She pauses mid-chop, tilting her head curiously. “Interesting how? Did something happen?”

I wish I could understand what happened between Graham and me today, but I am so confused.

I take a sip of wine, savoring the way it warms me from the inside. “Let’s just say Graham Cole isn’t exactly the easiest person to work with.”

Mia laughs, resuming her chopping. “Oh, but that’s general knowledge already. Did something else happen between you two?”

“I don’t know, Mia. One second, he’s stirring up conversation, and the next, he’s completely guarded,” I say, swirling the wine in my glass. “He’s polite though, but it’s like… I don’t know, he’s hot and cold around me. Plus a little bit of a jerk, too.”

Mia looks up, her smile fading slightly. “What did he do? If you want me to talk to him, I can.”

“No,” I admit, setting the glass down. “You don’t have to talk to him or do anything. I don’t need my big sister swooping in to save me, I have it covered.”

Mia sets down her knife, leaning against the counter. “Are you sure?”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Absolutely.”

“All right then, if you insist. Just give him time,” Mia says, her voice softening. “He’s not a bad guy, Soph. He just… keeps to himself. If he doesn’t come around after a while, find someone else to help.”

I take another sip of wine, considering her words. “Maybe,” I say finally. “The Holloway mansion looks promising, though. I can see why Riley and Ethan chose it. It’s elegant, and Riley loves it, but there’s still a lot of work to be done to make it special.”

Mia nods, reaching for the pan on the stove. “Riley and Ethan will love whatever you come up with.”

“Thanks,” I say, smiling faintly. “I’m going to shower and change before dinner. I also need to make a couple of calls with my Manhattan clients. My work is never done.”

“Don’t take too long!” Mia calls after me as I head upstairs.

In my room, I kick off my shoes and let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. My bed, neatly made and practically calling my name, looks like the most inviting thing in the world. But there’s no time for that—not yet.

I grab my phone and laptop, set them on the desk, undress, and head into the bathroom to shower. The water is warm, washing away the day’s dust and tension, but my thoughts are still tangled.

Graham Cole.

As I dry off and pull on a fresh pair of leggings and an oversized sweater, the questions refuse to leave me alone. There’s something about him beyond the gruff exterior and clipped responses.

He’s hiding something—or could it be that he’s just scared to let people in? I feel this strong sense of push and pull with him. I know it isn’t anything grave or mysterious, but the way he looks at me at times makes me want to unravel every piece of him.

I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it. And the more I think about it, the more I want to understand him.

GRAHAM

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