Butterflies—Kacey Musgraves Grayson Hawthorne prided himself on being an exceptional boyfriend—your happiness was always his top priority. You came from different worlds. While he grew up surrounded by wealth, you’d never had the luxury of salon nails. But that only made him love you more. You didn’t ask for much, so he gave you everything. One of his favorite indulgences? Taking you for biweekly mani-pedis. You kept it simple—French tips, soft pinks, light summer colors. He loved watching you choose your shade like it was the most important decision in the world. And every time, you looked at him like he hung the stars. Then, one afternoon, you tilted your head and asked sweetly, “What if you got one too?” At first, he refused. Grayson Hawthorne getting a pedicure? Absolutely not. But you pouted, leaned in close, whispered something that made him blush—and he folded. So on a sunny June day, he helped you out of his Ferrari, let you pick your color (a dark mauve), and settled into the massage chair next to you. The moment the foot massage started, his eyes fluttered shut. This is magical, he thought. You turned to him with a knowing grin. You had a feeling he’d like it.