Grace’s POV

Max’s apartment surprised me. No sleek bachelor pad—instead, warm colors, actual bookshelves, framed art that wasn’t just expensive for the sake of it. It felt like a home.

I had accepted Max’s invitation. Helena was out tonight and Hunter was working late again. I hadn’t wanted dinner alone again in Hunter and Helena’s big house.

“Wine?” he asked, already moving to the kitchen.

“Please.” I followed, watching him select a bottle. Everything about him was ...