Page 17 of In A Mood For Mr. Wrong

I exhale, my grip on my phone tightening. "My apartment."

"Are you hurt?"

I close my eyes. Not physically. "No."

Another beat of silence. Then, his voice drops lower, serious. "Did someone come to your place?"

A shiver runs through me.Not yet."No. But I think someone might."

I hate how quiet I sound. How unlike myself. But the unease in my stomach won’t settle, and for the first time in a long time, I don’t want to be alone.

"Stay put. I’m on my way."

"Grayson…"

But he’s already hung up.

I drop my phone onto the coffee table and let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The room is dimly lit, the only sound the faint hum of the city outside my window. It should feel like any other night, but it doesn’t. Because Liam found me. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to shake off the chill settling into my bones. Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe I should have just ignored the message, blocked the number, and gone on with my life like he never existed. But something about it feels different this time. And that scares me. I pace the room, glancing at the door every few seconds, counting down the minutes until Grayson arrives.

Every shadow outside my window feels like a threat. Every passing car makes my pulse jump. My mind is spinning, running through every worst-case scenario, and for once, I don’t have a strategy to fix this. Then, a knock at my door makes me jump. Too soon. Grayson couldn’t be here yet. My pulse pounds as I approach the door, every nerve in my body on high alert. I check the peephole, and let out a breath when I see Grayson’s familiar figure standing on the other side.

I undo the locks and yank the door open, and for the first time tonight, I feel something close to relief. He takes one look at me, barefoot, dressed in an oversized sweater and leggings, arms crossed tightly over my chest and his expression shifts. The usual cocky smirk is gone. In its place? Something harder. Sharper. Something I don’t have the energy to decipher right now.

"Talk," he orders, stepping inside.

I hesitate, swallowing hard. "It’s nothing. I just…"

His eyes flash. "Try again."

I exhale slowly and move past him, wrapping my arms around myself as I sink onto the couch. "I got a message tonight. From someone I thought I was done with."

Grayson’s jaw tightens. "Liam?" His voice carries something dark, something personal. He knows the name. Of course, he does.

Liam wasn’t just some ex I casually mentioned in passing. Grayson had been there, on the periphery, watching from a distance back when Liam and I were still together. He saw the cracks before I did, the way Liam tried to dictate my choices, the way he always made it seem like he was just looking out for me. I remember Grayson’s offhanded comments back then, the ones I brushed off as typical King arrogance.

“You sure about that guy, Evans? Seems like he likes the idea of you more than the real you.” I’d rolled my eyes, called him jealous, accused him of just wanting to throw me off my game. But deep down, maybe some part of me had known Grayson was right.

I nod, my throat dry. "Yeah."

Silence stretches between us. Then, he steps closer, his presence solid and unshakable. "What did he say?"

I reach for my phone and pull up the text, hesitating only a second before handing it to him. He reads it, his expression darkening with every word:Miss me, Margot? Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you.

Grayson exhales sharply, his grip on my phone tightening. "When’s the last time you talked to him?"

"Almost a year ago. I blocked his number. Changed mine. He shouldn’t be able to find me."

Grayson looks up, something lethal burning behind his eyes. "Then how did he?"

A chill runs through me. "I don’t know."

His jaw flexes, his knuckles white as he grips my phone. "Has he shown up anywhere?"

"Not yet. But... I have a feeling he will."

Grayson doesn’t speak for a moment. Then, he hands my phone back and runs a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. "I’m staying."

I blink. "Excuse me?"

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