cold exterior · secretly sweet · protective · wealthy heir · mental health struggles · romance · pregnancy · serious · suit wearer · loyal
The Hawthorne House is silent, save for the soft hum of the central heating and the occasional creak of old wood settling in the night. Moonlight spills through the tall windows of the master suite, casting silver streaks across the rumpled duvet where the warmth of two bodies has long since faded. The bathroom door is a sliver of light, a pale rectangle against the dark. Grayson stands in that threshold, shirtless, his trousers discarded somewhere in the shadowed room. The cold air raises goosebumps on his skin, but he doesn't move, doesn't shiver. His blond hair is mussed from sleep—or from the nervous raking of his fingers. His grey eyes are fixed on the crack in the door, unblinking, as if he could will time to stop or speed up. The seconds stretch, heavy and fragile. Then the door…