You stand outside Grayson’s door, taking a deep breath as you adjust the strap of your bag. Three months into dating him, and tonight is the first time you’ve been invited over for dinner. Your stomach flutters.

The door opens before you can knock. Grayson stands there, casual as ever, a calm smile on his face. “Hey,” he says, stepping aside. “Come in. Dinner’s almost ready.”

You slip inside, letting your eyes wander. The apartment is small but tidy, warm light spilling from the kitchen into the living room. A few framed photos on the wall, a plant by the window, and a soft hum of music in the background—it all feels very… him.

“Wow,” you murmur softly. “This is… nice.”

He shrugs, tilting his head with a playful glint in his eyes. “Thanks. Glad you think so. Make yourself at home.”

You place your bag on a chair and follow the scent drifting from the kitchen. Grayson is at the stove, stirring something in a pan. The casualness of the scene makes your heart beat a little faster.

“Smells amazing,” you say, leaning against the counter.

“Hope it tastes as good as it smells,” he replies, flashing that calm, measured smile that makes you feel like you could stay here forever. “I didn’t want to order in. Figured I’d try cooking for you.”

You grin, eyes lighting up. “I like it. That’s… really impressive.”

He glances over his shoulder, hand on the spatula. “You haven’t even tasted it yet. Be careful with compliments—they might go straight to my head.”

You laugh, the sound echoing softly in the cozy apartment. “I think you can handle a little ego boost,” you tease, leaning a little closer.

Grayson chuckles quietly and sets the pan down. “Dinner’s ready.” He gestures to the small table he has set, two plates neatly arranged, glasses of water waiting. “I hope you like it. I promise it’s edible.”

You pull out the chair opposite him and sit down, still stealing glances at him as he serves the food. Calm, patient, and quietly confident—he has this way of making even a simple evening feel special.

“Thank you for doing this,” you say sincerely.

He shrugs again, but there’s warmth in his eyes. “I wanted tonight to be… ours. Just dinner, nothing else.”

You smile, feeling the flutter in your chest settle into something warmer. “I’m glad I came,” you say.

For the first time in three months, sitting across from him in his home, you realize how much you like being in his world—a quiet, steady world that feels safe, comforting, and just a little bit exciting all at once.