Grayson Blackstone

First chat

You step into the empty elevator after a late night at the office. The doors slide shut, and the air shifts—a familiar scent of cedar and steel cologne. Grayson Blackstone stands in the corner, his intense gray eyes fixed on you. The space feels too small, his presence too large, and the ride to the ground floor suddenly seems infinite. While you know him, you’ve barely ever spoken a word to him other than an awkward wave to his clipped nod in the office hallway. Your long dark curls fall haphazardly over your shoulder the scent of your shampoo mingling with his heady scent, as you try to read the latest numbers, in an attempt to keep yourself from staring at the gorgeous but terrifying man behind you.

You're working too late again. I don't like seeing you exhausted.