Grayson stepped out of the mecha simulation room with the ghost of a smile still tugging at the corner of his mouth. The quick kiss barely left its trace on his lips, but it was enough to make him feel full.
As his gaze swept across the room, his smile died.
Grayson took a few slow, unhurried steps away from the door so that the sightlines of the seaside estate's first floor opened up to him properly.
It was a deliberately designed space, the sort of place where everything was arranged so that a host could see the whole floor with one lazy turn of the head.
The ballroom area to his left, where the modular parquet had been retracted into the walls.
Meanwhile, the gaming room was left empty after everyone moved to the living area.
The bar along the far wall, its back-lit shelves stacked three deep with crystal decanters, enzyme liquors, and the luminous greens and violets of synthesized nebula wines.
