17. Margot
17
MARGOT
I wake 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."
I sigh, pushing my plate away. "Alright, King. What’s the plan?"
His smirk fades, replaced by something more serious. "We figure out how Liam found you. And we make sure it doesn’t happen again." The weight of his words settles over me, but for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I have to carry it alone.
"First step, we figure out how he got your number and address," Grayson says, setting his coffee down with a firm thud. "You changed your number after you cut him off, right?"
I nod. "Yeah. And I don’t use my personal address for anything work-related. There’s no way he could’ve gotten it through the company."
Grayson runs a hand through his hair, his expression darkening. "Unless someone gave it to him." The thought sends a chill down my spine. "You think someone at Perfectly Matched …"
"Not necessarily. But we can’t rule out the possibility. Either way, we need to lock down all points of access. First, I’ll have my guy sweep your phone for tracking software. If he has any way of monitoring you, we cut him off."
I exhale, pressing my fingers to my temple. "Okay. And after that?"
"We change all your passwords, double up on security, and you stay here until we’re sure he doesn’t have a way to track you."
I tense at the last part. "Grayson…"
"Don’t argue, Evans. He knows where you live. He left you a note. That’s not casual. That’s planned. Which means I’m not letting you go home alone until we know exactly what we’re dealing with."
I clench my jaw, but deep down, I know he’s right. I hate feeling powerless, but I hate the idea of being reckless even more.
I take a deep breath. "Fine. We do it your way. For now."
Grayson smirks, but there’s something softer in his expression. "Good. Now, let’s get to work." Grayson wastes no time, grabbing his laptop and settling onto the couch while I sit beside him, my phone in hand. He pulls up an encrypted security program, his fingers flying over the keys as he sets up a scan. I watch in silence, impressed despite myself.
"Didn’t peg you as a tech guy," I murmur.
He smirks, not looking up. "I have many talents, Evans. Some more surprising than others."
Rolling my eyes, I unlock my phone, scanning my messages again. If Liam had a way to track me, it wasn’t obvious. But just as I’m about to set it down, a new message appears on the screen: You can’t hide from me forever.
A chill rushes down my spine. My breath catches, my grip tightening around the device. Grayson must see the change in my expression because his smirk disappears instantly.
"What?" he demands, already reaching for my phone. I swallow hard, my pulse hammering as I turn the screen toward him. His jaw clenches as he reads the message, his entire body going rigid. Then, his eyes flick to mine, dark and unreadable. "Looks like we just ran out of time."