Page 45 of In A Mood For Mr. Wrong

“That was one time,” I grumble.

“And how long did they last?”

“…A week. But that’s beside the point,” I reply.

His laughter is deep, rich, and entirely too distracting. “Face it, Evans. You can’t live without me.”

Before I can fire back, a familiar voice cuts in.

“Oh, for the love of God, can you two stop eye-flirting for five minutes?” I turn just as Elliot appears beside us, his arms crossed in exaggerated exasperation. Tessa stands beside him, looking thoroughly amused.

“You’re just jealous,” I say sweetly.

Elliot sighs dramatically. “Margot, Grayson, look, I love you both, but this engaged version of you is disgustingly adorable, and I simply will not stand for it.”

Tessa nudges him. “Ignore him. We’re actually here to offer you some very important newlywed wisdom.”

“Oh, this should be good.” Grayson folds his arms, looking amused.

Elliot nods solemnly. “First piece of advice, Grayson, whenever Margot starts a sentence with ‘We need to talk,’ immediately fake an emergency. A fire, an earthquake, an alien invasion, doesn’t matter. Just run.”

Grayson chuckles, shaking his head. “That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea.” Elliot sighs. “The other day, Tessa called a ‘serious conversation,’ and do you know what it was about? The correct way to load the dishwasher.”

Tessa glares at him. “Because you do it wrong!”

“There is no wrong way to put dishes in a dishwasher!” Elliot argues, exasperated. “They go in, they get washed, end of discussion!”

“There is absolutely a wrong way,” Tessa counters. “You don’t just throw bowls in randomly like some kind of dishwasher anarchist!”

Elliot turns to Grayson, nodding gravely. “This is your future, my friend. Get out while you still can.”

Grayson smirks. “I think I can handle a few dishwasher debates.”

“Oh, it gets worse.” Elliot sips his champagne. “Wait until you try decorating a shared apartment. I suggested a minimalist, modern look. Do you know what Tessa wanted?”

Tessa grins. “Cozy, warm, lived-in vibes.”

Elliot groans. “Translation: throw pillows. So many damn throw pillows. I can’t even sit on my own couch without moving a mountain of cushions.”

Tessa rolls her eyes. “They make the space inviting.”

“They make me feel like I’m drowning in fluff!” Elliot exclaims. “There is one chair, ONE CHAIR, where I thought I could escape, and guess what? Last week, she added a blanket ladder next to it.”

Grayson chuckles, shaking his head. “Margot already tried sneaking scented candles into my place.”

I glare at him playfully. “Tried? There are currently three in your living room.”

His expression falters. “Wait. Three?”

I grin innocently. “Mm-hmm.”

Elliot pats Grayson on the shoulder. “It’s already begun. The invasion of unnecessary home decor. This is how they win.”

Tessa smirks. “You’ll survive.”

Grayson eyes me, amused. “I’m not sure I will.”

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