16. Grayson
16
GRAYSON
I shouldn’t have touched her. I knew it the second it happened, hell, I knew it before it happened. It was inevitable, like gravity pulling us toward something neither of us could resist. But knowing better has never stopped me from making bad decisions, and Margot Evans is the worst kind of temptation. The kind that sneaks up on you, wraps itself around your thoughts, and doesn’t let go. The kind that ruins you in the best and worst ways. Now, there’s no going back. No pretending it didn’t happen. No convincing myself that she’s just another challenge to overcome, because the moment I touched her, I knew, I wasn’t going to stop wanting her.
I watch her from the driver’s seat as she stares out the window of my car, the city lights reflecting in her eyes. She’s quiet, too quiet, and it’s messing with my head. I don’t know if it’s because of Liam, because of what happened between us, or both. But the weight of it is heavy, pressing into the space between us like a loaded gun.
She’s always been in my life as a constant, a challenge, someone I knew how to fight. But this is different. She’s in my car, heading to my place, and I can’t even lie to myself anymore, this is personal now, and I don’t know how to deal with that.
"You okay?" I ask, gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary.
She exhales, her fingers brushing over her lips absently before dropping into her lap. "Yeah. Just thinking."
"Careful, Evans. Too much thinking might lead to feelings, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?" I smirk, trying to lighten the mood, but it falls flat.
She lets out a dry laugh, shaking her head. "Trust me, King, if I was going to start catching feelings, it wouldn’t be for you."
I arch a brow, glancing over at her. "Ouch. And here I thought we had a moment."
"We had something," she mutters, barely audible. "But it’s complicated."
I grip the wheel a little tighter. "Yeah? What part? The part where you kissed me back, or the part where you haven’t stopped thinking about it either?"
She shoots me a sharp look. "Cocky as ever."
"Confident, sweetheart. There’s a difference."
She scoffs but doesn’t argue, and I take that as a win. The tension between us is thick, laced with something we both refuse to name, but at least she’s still here. That has to mean something. I want to push. I want to know exactly what’s running through that brilliant, frustrating head of hers. But I don’t. Instead, I focus on the road ahead, forcing my voice to stay even. "You know you’re safe with me, right?"
She glances at me, her expression unreadable. "That’s the problem."
My jaw tightens. "Margot…"
"I’m serious, Grayson. This…" she gestures between us, then shakes her head. "This changes things. And I don’t know if I like that."
A humorless chuckle escapes me. "You think I do?"
She presses her lips together, then turns back to the window. Silence stretches between us again, but it’s different now. Tighter. Unforgiving. I think back to every moment we’ve had leading up to this. Every argument, every pointed look, every lingering glance we both pretended meant nothing. She’s always been under my skin, a permanent fixture in my thoughts. But now, I feel her everywhere, on my skin, in my bones, wrapped around every breath I take. And that scares the hell out of me. By the time I pull into my driveway, I feel like I’ve run a marathon I wasn’t prepared for. I kill the engine and turn to her. "Come inside. We’ll figure this out in the morning."
She hesitates for a second before nodding, unbuckling her seatbelt. "Fine. But only because I don’t feel like arguing with you tonight."
I smirk despite myself. "That’s a first."
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t fight me on it. Small victories.
Inside, I toss my keys onto the entry table and turn back to her. "Take the bed. I’ll take the couch."
Margot arches a brow. "What, no attempt to lure me into some elaborate seduction?"
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’s a 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.