The restaurant buzzed with a gentle, understated energy. The delicate clink of silverware resonated against fine porcelain, creating a rhythmic symphony that mingled with the soft murmur of intimate conversations floating through the air. Rich and inviting laughter drifted from a nearby table, adding warmth to the ambiance. Glasses met with a soft, resonant chime in leisurely, celebratory toasts. The atmosphere was both warm and sophisticated, with dim, golden lighting casting a cozy glow over the elegantly set tables. It was the kind of place where time seemed to pause, inviting you to linger just a little longer than you had planned, wrapped in its inviting embrace.
At their table, silence reigned with an almost palpable weight. It wasn't the awkward kind that prickles the skin or the tense kind that coils like a spring ready to snap. Instead, it was a profound silence that was bursting at the seams, a tangible presence that filled the space between them like a living, breathing entity.
Olivia sat across from Grayson, her plate nearly empty, the steak flavor fading on her tongue. She stared at her wine glass, thumb tracing the rim, her mind spiraling.
Maybe.
Why the hell had she said maybe?
She told herself she was going to seize the day. That she would live fully, boldly, without fear. And yet… when he'd looked at her across that table and asked her to stay when he gave her that soft smile with the stupid dimple and eyes that asked for more than just a night, she flaked.
The word had slipped out before she could catch it.
Maybe. Coward's answer.
Her flight was tomorrow, just past noon. She hadn't told him yet. Time with him wasn't measured in days anymore, it was hours now. Maybe less, depending on how this night unraveled.
And then what? He'd go back to Texas. Austin, wasn't it?
Yeah. Austin. That sounded right. Eventually, he'd head back to headquarters, back to his real life. And what would this be? A memory? A strange story she might tell Haley over wine?
She glanced up at him. Grayson was still eating, sort of, mostly pushing vegetables around like he'd been waiting for her to speak.
He caught her stare and gave her a soft, crooked smile. God, that smile. It made her chest ache in ways she wasn't prepared to unpack.
And then there was that call. She'd overheard that strange, tense conversation in the hotel suite when he was in the bathroom. She hadn't told him she'd heard it. How could she?
"Hey, so I eavesdropped on your very private moment. Who was that, by the way?" Yeah. That wouldn't go over well.
Was she being paranoid? Maybe. But the way his tone had shifted on that call, the words he used it stuck with her. And it made her feel something she hated: unsure.
So she ate. Because eating meant not talking. Eating gave her something to do while her brain looped every unanswered question in his direction.
Should've ordered a T-bone, she thought grimly. Something big enough to stretch this silence into hours.
The waiter came back and asked if they needed anything else.
"We're fine," they both said in unison.
Her plate was clean. The moment was here.
Chicago born and raised. Gut of iron. Buns of steel. She could do this.
Olivia reached for her wine and knocked back the last sip like it was liquid courage.
"Grayson," she said finally, voice more steady than she felt.
He looked up instantly. His plate was also cleared he'd barely touched the food. His fork hovered over a lonely carrot.
"Little fox," he replied, his voice smooth and impossibly low.
God, he didn't even try. He just sat there, doing his Grayson thing, looking like he belonged on the cover of a magazine while she sat across from him sweating out her soul.
"Grayson…" she repeated, eyes narrowing at herself for hesitating again. "My flight leaves tomorrow afternoon."
He blinked once, then nodded. "Okay," he said simply. "So stay with me until then."
Like it was no big deal. Like he was asking her to pick a Spotify playlist.
She blinked. "Umm. You do know I have a perfectly unused hotel room? One that I'm currently paying for?"
Grayson smirked. "That's very responsible of you." He leaned back, elbows resting easily on the arms of his chair. "How about we check you out of that hotel so you won't pay for another night, hmm? Stay at my hotel… that way, I don't have to check out."
Olivia arched a brow. "Now that's an option. I don't oppose."
He leaned in, voice dipping lower. "As long as I'm in you... Excuse me, by you, I'm fully content with any sleeping location."
Olivia dropped her head with a groan. "You're impossible."
He tilted his head, all charm and zero shame. "Impossible, maybe. But effective."
"How about this?" she offered, folding her hands under her chin. "I'll stay in the hotel room tonight. Just to spite you."
Grayson was absorbed in his phone, fingers dancing rapidly over the screen as messages flowed beneath his touch. The waiter approached the table with the check, a small leather folder tucked under his arm. placing it gently beside Grayson. Without lifting his eyes or pausing his typing, Grayson reached out, taking the folder with one hand and sliding his credit card across the table with the other practiced motion, barely acknowledging the waiter's presence or glancing at the amount on the bill. The scene was one of practiced nonchalance, as if this routine had been repeated countless times before.
"Grayson..." she started, but didn't even finish the sentence. She just watched him. Fingers flying and already making arrangements.
"Grayson."
"Hmmm?" he replied, eyes still on his phone.
The waiter returned with the check. Grayson handed over his card without a glance at the bill.
Olivia narrowed her eyes. "I never actually agreed to your plan."
He looked up at her then, grin blooming like he'd been waiting for this exact line. "Oh, little fox. Shall I assume you'd rather sleep alone, just a few blocks from me?" He placed a hand over his heart dramatically. "How could you? My pride. My soul. My heart is breaking."
She laughed. "Please. If anything's hurting, it's not your pride. More like the dirty little wolf inside you."
"Wolf? That's the second time you've called me that."
"That's because you're hungry like one. You know... like the song."
Grayson blinked, then burst out laughing. "That is not what I thought you meant."
Olivia began humming the chorus of Hungry Like the Wolf, making him laugh harder.
"You never cease to amaze me," he said, still chuckling as he signed the receipt.
He stood and reached for her hand. Olivia let him pull her up as they walked toward the coat check.
We were supposed to have a serious talk, she thought as she slipped her arms into her coat. And now we're back to square one. Flirting. Laughing and avoiding the bubble that's about to pop.
But at least now he knew she was leaving. Technically, he always knew. But now it had a countdown.
Grayson nearly dragged her out the door, hand tight in hers.
"Whoa, sir, slow down," she laughed, stumbling in heels.
The car door was already open. He pulled her in right into his lap.
"Grayson, this is not a safe way to travel."
"I know," he said, already nuzzling her neck. "And if I don't want a repeat of this afternoon, I'll have to move you. But first... one kiss."
He gave her a quick, surprisingly tender kiss before lifting her and setting her gently in the seat beside him.
"Thank you, kind gentleman," she said with mock formality.
He leaned in again, clicking her seatbelt in place. Then his own.
Rufus was already merging into traffic.
Grayson picked up his phone again, typing out a quick text.
Then he dialed. "Make it happen," he said, his voice low and serious. "I need one of each… Before. Not after. Don't care."
He hung up, then glanced at her.
"What time is your flight?"
Olivia fished for her phone. "Um… 12:45. Out of JFK."
He nodded and started texting again, no change in his expression.
She narrowed her eyes. "Do I even want to know what that was about?"
Grayson grinned. "Maybe."
Maybe? Did he just maybe her?
She narrowed her eyes. "Grayson, did you just maybe me?"
He shifted toward the window, avoiding her eyes. "Maybe," he said again, this time quieter.
She folded her arms. "Are you facing the door intentionally?"
"May…be," he said, voice teasing.
"You're paying me back for my 'maybe,' aren't you?"
He laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Ugh, fine. You win," she said, rolling her eyes. "It was a bad set of words. A false promise. I won't maybe you anymore, okay?"
He turned to her, suddenly serious. "Little fox… I am about three seconds from tearing your clothes off again, so I'm staying over here by this door, as far from you as possible, because I respect you. Too much. But I can't promise what happens when we get home."
His voice dropped, and his hazel eyes darkened, stormy and full of everything she felt.
She swallowed. She knew how to distract him. She knew she could take this moment somewhere else. Back to play. Back to heat. But...
No.
She was going to pop this bubble. Tonight. Before she left. She looked at him, heart hammering.
"Grayson," she said quietly. "I have a question."
He turned toward her, his jaw tense, his body still braced against restraint.
"Yes, little fox?" he said, his voice like velvet.
She looked straight at him. No smile. No mask.
"What are we? I mean… what is this, really?"
Grayson's body tensed, his shoulders stiffening just slightly as her question landed.
His brow furrowed deeply, casting shadows over his intense eyes, and his mouth parted slightly, poised to deliver one of his dangerously smooth remarks. However, Olivia swiftly intervened, raising her hand in a decisive gesture that halted his words before they could escape.
"Before you respond with one of your lovely, sexy remarks," she said gently, "I want you to think about it, Grayson."
She took a breath, then continued, quieter now.
"Let's be honest. We don't even live in the same city... or time zone. You seem like a structured kind of person. And I'm... a free bird."
She looked away for a second before meeting his eyes again.
"It took me a long time after that asshat to admit that I was part of the reason we didn't work. I didn't want to give up this kind of freedom. My independence."
Her voice softened further. "That's something he wanted me to quit, and... I guess I would've, if I'd married him. Or if I married someone like him."
"What I'm saying is, I can't be that person, Grayson. If that's what you're looking for. I really enjoy your company. I want to be with you. But I can't label this. I can't define it."
"Then don't." His voice was calm but firm, interrupting gently. "Little Fox... Olivia, I like you for you. Not because I want to mold you into someone else."
He leaned closer.
"I love your freedom. I wouldn't change it. If you want to travel, I hope you take me with you. Or at the very least, come back to my bed."
His gaze locked with hers, full of something deeper than she was ready to name. "I can admit it, I'm addicted to you. Even now, just thinking about you not being with me after tonight... it bothers me more than I like to admit."
He shifted in the seat, moved closer, and reached for her face, his hand warm against her cheek.
"I told you I'd chase you, Little Fox," he whispered, voice husky. "Didn't I say I'd find you...wherever you go...you're mine."
Grayson leaned in and kissed her gently, his lips brushing against hers with a tenderness that seemed to linger in the air. The kiss began softly, a delicate brush of warmth slowly opening into something deeper, more profound.
The kiss was soft and inviting, an open gesture that spoke volumes beyond words. It was not merely a kiss but a vow whispered between them. It spoke not of guarantees or forever, but of deliberate intent and conscious choice, a silent agreement sealed in that intimate moment.
Olivia melted into him. Her chest rose sharply, her lips parting as his tongue slid against hers. The kiss stole her breath, but filled something in her, too. Her walls cracked a little further. That last piece of her shield crumbled.
Olivia wasn't just attracted to him, nor was she simply swept up in the moments of passion. Her mind buzzed with the undeniable realization that the Love virus had thoroughly infected her. A gentle electricity coursed through her veins, and her heart beat faster, as if keeping pace. Her skin tingled with anticipation and intensity that left her breathless. She was undeniably falling this time. Olivia found herself uncertain if she was willing, or even able, to resist the pull any longer.
When Grayson finally pulled back, his breath was shallow. He leaned away, shaking his head with a crooked smile.
"I'm trying to behave," he said, "but if you keep looking at me like that, and touching me like that…"
She laughed softly, still catching her breath.
"So," he said, clearing his throat, "want to distract me? Maybe talk about literally anything else before I forget I'm trying to respect you?"
She nodded, barely able to speak.
"You're a betting man, right?" she finally said, regaining her voice. "I bet I can tell you who won each of the last three games in the NFL, NHL, MLB, and NBA. Without checking my phone."
Grayson raised a brow. "Little Fox, I know baseball. But that's a tall order."
"Are you nervous?, Afraid to put your mouth is Big Boy?" Olivia asked, grinning. Olivia was knowledgeable about sports. She understood that both needed a distraction, and sports were the perfect way to help them stay calm and collected.
"Oh, not at all." Plus, I like to put my mouth on something other than money." His grin was back.
"Grayson...Distraction, remember." She said, smiling with a blush
Ah, yes, I know...I know... let's raise the stakes," he says, looking at Olivia mysteriously.
"Okay," she said, intrigued. "What are you putting up?"
"If you lose... You stay with me. Until your apartment's ready."
"What?" Olivia blinked. "I… I can't do that. That's not something I planned for."
"Why not?" he said with total calm. "The penthouse is big enough. And as you said… you're waiting for your apartment to be finished, right? Instead of staying at a hotel… stay with me."
She stared at him. "Why are you so confident I'll lose?"
He just smirked. Before she could respond, the car pulled to a smooth stop in front of his building.
The door opened. Crisp winter air swept through the cabin, sharp and bracing, swirling with the sounds of the city: the faint honk of a horn, footsteps along the sidewalk, and the low murmur of passing voices.
Grayson stepped out first, then turned and extended a hand toward her.
She hesitated for just a second. Living with him? Even temporarily? That wasn't something she'd planned for.
But her hand slipped into his anyway. As she stepped out, she stood face to face with him beneath the glow of the awning.
"So, Little Fox," he said, looking far too handsome for her mental health, "what will it be?"
She smiled slowly, lifting her chin.
"Yes. I'll take this wager. But be warned, Mr. Steel, I never lose."
He leaned in, lips brushing her ear.
"Funny," he whispered, "that's the same thing I said when I went hunting for you."
And with that, he led her through the doors into the building.
Olivia was uncertain about their future and what would happen after tonight. The only thing she was sure of was the outcome of the bet.