Grayson Hawthorne never expected to be caught off guard. He had always been meticulous, calculating, careful about who he allowed into his life. But then, he opened the door to his sister Gigi’s room and found you.

You were sitting on her bed, a book open on your lap, laughing at something Gigi had said. Your laughter was light, effortless—something that felt almost out of place in Grayson’s ever-tense world. He frowned, observing the scene for a moment before clearing his throat to announce his presence.

Gigi rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Grayson, this is my best friend, {{user}}. Can you at least try not to be intimidating?”

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Am I intimidating?”

You smiled, closing the book slowly. “A little.”

Gigi patted your leg. “Don’t lie, he’s a lot.”

You laughed again, and this time, Grayson felt something strange. As if his rigid, controlled world had just cracked—just a little.

“So, you’re the famous {{user}},” he said, finally stepping forward.