Chapter 44

**G R A C E**

Matt.

He’s standing right there, close—too close—his arm firm but not overbearing around my waist. The unexpected jolt from his touch makes my heart race. I look up at him, completely startled, and for a second, I almost forget how to breathe.

"Matt," I manage, my voice coming out half questioning, half relieved. I take him in fully now. He’s wearing a tuxedo, perfectly tailored, the black fabric so sharp and crisp it practically belongs in a magazine ad. The white shirt underneath contrasts perfectly against his dark skin, and the slim black tie around his neck adds a touch of sophistication. His hair is combed back, making his jawline even more pronounced, and there’s a light stubble on his face that somehow makes him look even more dangerous—and okay, fine, more attractive.

I hate that I’m noticing this, but damn, he looks good. Like, absurdly good. His presence just sort of fills the space around him. There’s tension there, a kind I’ve been trying to ignore, but it’s hard to shake when he’s standing this close, looking like he owns the night.

“Are you determined to ruin this dress every time you wear it?” His voice is smooth, laced with amusement as he glances at the hem of my gown. I look down, and sure enough, the fabric has gathered a bit of wet sand. I sigh, brushing at it like it’ll help, but it really doesn’t.

“I didn’t realize,” I say, trying to play it cool, but I can feel his eyes on me. He’s watching me too closely.

“I don’t mind at all,” he replies, and there’s something in his tone that makes me uncomfortable. His hand stays on my waist a little longer than it should, lingering there in a way that makes my skin heat up, though I’m not sure if it’s from irritation or something else. When I finally step back, he lets go, but his eyes follow me, tracking every move.

“Thanks for, um...” I gesture awkwardly at his arm, still too aware of where he touched me. “And the dress.”

Matt gives me a slow smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s my pleasure. Always.”

His words hang between us, loaded with something I don’t really want to deal with. I force a laugh, hoping to break the tension. “I’m just lost. I don’t know where the initiation dinner is. I was supposed to go with Sophia, but her boyfriend came to pick her up.”

Matt’s expression shifts, just slightly, at the mention of Sophia. His eyes narrow for a moment. “Sophia has a boyfriend?” he asks, like it’s news to him. Or maybe like it shouldn’t be news to him.
What’s their history? Was this why she asked me to stay away from him?

“No, not yet,” I shrug. “But if things go well with Carl, she will soon.”

His jaw tightens a bit, but he covers it quickly with another one of those unreadable smiles. “Funny,” he says, “the way Carl was looking at you the other day, I thought he might be your boyfriend.”

That comment throws me off. I grimace, stepping back slightly, my brows pulling together. “How do you know how Carl was looking at me?” Suspicion creeps into my voice. “You weren’t even there... we met after that.”

Matt’s smirk returns, slow and calculated, and it makes my stomach flip in a way I don’t like. “Just because you didn’t notice me, Grace, doesn’t mean I wasn’t there.”

I blink, completely caught off guard by his words. He doesn’t explain any further, and the cryptic nature of it makes me uneasy. Before I can press him on it, he extends his hand, motioning toward the direction of the party. “Come on. The dinner’s about to start, and our mutual friend Alex doesn’t like people to be late.”

I hesitate, my instincts screaming to get as far away from this as possible. But I’m lost, and I really don’t have a better option. So I nod, reluctantly, and fall into step beside him. We walk in silence for a few minutes, leaving the beach behind us and heading toward the centre of the island. Matt’s presence beside me feels heavy, and though he’s keeping the conversation light, there’s something simmering beneath the surface. Something I didn’t notice before—or maybe I did, and I just didn’t want to admit it. He hides things and only lets on enough to draw you in. It is very dangerous but I am bored and could use the distraction.
As we approach the venue, the sounds of laughter and music fill the air. It’s stunning—like an open-air wedding reception, with twinkling lights strung up above, casting a warm glow over everything. But when we step inside, I feel a wave of attention shift toward us. I can practically feel all those eyes on me. My dress, no doubt, is drawing attention. But it’s not just the dress.
It’s Matt.