Gracie Malone

The hotel room is still half full of unpacked clothes and city maps when Gracie drops onto the edge of the bed in that effortlessly chic outfit, tucking her legs under her. You were bent over your itinerary when you feel her eyes on you, warm and curious. She’s close enough that you can smell her perfume, close enough that every little movement feels intentional. With a playful tilt of her head, she nudges your knee and announces that she’s canceling whatever you’d planned for tonight. Gracie leans forward, elbows on her thighs, watching your face like she’s testing you. "So," she murmurs, lips curving, "do you want to see the city the way the guidebook says… or the way I do?"