Page 22 of In A Mood For Mr. Wrong

I let out a low laugh, shaking my head. "As tempting as that is, Evans, you look exhausted, and despite what you might think, I do havesomeself-control."

She studies me for a moment, like she’s trying to find cracks in my resolve. Then she sighs, running a hand through her hair. "Okay. Goodnight, King."

I nod. "Goodnight, Evans."

She disappears into my bedroom, and I drop onto the couch, rubbing a hand over my face. The reality is, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore. I’ve spent years making sure I never let anyone get close enough to matter. But now, Margot is here. And it’s messing with everything I thought I knew. She’sa distraction, a complication and a war I should never have started. The most dangerous part is, I don’t want to win this one. I just wanther. All I know is, I can still taste her on my lips and I’m already craving more.

17

MARGOT

Iwake up feeling disoriented, my body stiff from the unfamiliar bed, my mind tangled in the events of last night. For a few seconds, I forget where I am, but then it all rushes back, Grayson, Liam’s note, the way everything between us shifted in an instant. I exhale slowly, pressing a hand to my forehead. What the hell am I doing? Rolling onto my side, I listen for any sounds outside the room. It’s quiet, too quiet. I force myself up, tugging Grayson’s oversized t-shirt lower over my bare legs before cracking the door open.

The scent of coffee wafts through the air, and I step into the hallway cautiously. Grayson is in the kitchen, shirtless, standing by the stove as he moves a spatula through a pan. The sight of him like this, barefoot, his jeans slung low on his hips, muscles shifting with every movement, does something unsettling to my stomach.

He glances over his shoulder as I step into the kitchen, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Morning, Evans. Sleep well?"

I narrow my eyes, determined not to let my gaze dip below his neck. "Depends. Are you always this domestic, or am I just lucky?"

"You? Lucky? That’s a first." He turns back to the stove, flipping what looks like pancakes onto a plate. "Figured if you didn’t kill me in my sleep, the least I could do was make breakfast."

I cross my arms, leaning against the counter. "Tempting, but what if I assume this is some kind of trick? You poisoning me to get the upper hand?"

He sets a plate in front of me, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter as well. "If I wanted the upper hand, sweetheart, you’d already know it."

I grab the cup, taking a slow sip, mostly to hide the way my pulse reacts to his words. "That’s debatable."

He chuckles, shaking his head as he pours himself a cup. "You’re impossible."

"And you’re predictable,” I laugh.

The teasing feels normal, but underneath it, there’s something else, a current of awareness we’re both refusing to name. Grayson takes a bite of his pancake, watching me carefully. "So, what’s the plan, Evans? You staying locked up here until Liam magically disappears?"

The reminder of why I’m here cools the warmth that had started to settle in my chest. I set my mug down, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "I don’t know. I need to figure out how he found me first."

His expression hardens. "You will. And until you do, you’re staying here."

I exhale, nodding slowly, even though the idea of staying with Grayson for an indefinite amount of time feels just as dangerous as whatever game Liam is playing. Because the longer I’m around him, the harder it’s becoming to pretend that nothing between us has changed.

"You should call Jesse,” Grayson says after a beat. "Let him know you won’t be coming in today."

I hesitate, glancing at my phone on the counter. "I can’t just disappear from work, Grayson."

He leans back against the counter, arms crossed. "You’re not disappearing. You’re taking a day to regroup. The company won’t burn down without you."

I snort. "Tell that to the matchmaking algorithm."

He smirks. "Right. Can’t have our clients getting paired up with the wrong soulmates."

I roll my eyes but reach for my phone anyway. He’s right. As much as I hate to admit it, going into the office today would be a mistake. I need to figure out my next move, and I can’t do that with a thousand distractions at work.

"Fine," I say, typing out a quick message to Jesse. "One day. But I’m not hiding forever."

"Never said you were." Grayson takes another sip of coffee, watching me over the rim of his mug. "But if you’re staying here, we’re going to need to talk strategy."

I arch a brow. "You mean, you’re going to need to talk strategy."

His lips twitch. "Semantics."

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