Chapter 12 Olivia/Grayson
The moment Olivia stepped into Daniel K. Inouye International Airport, she exhaled heavily, rolling her stiff shoulders beneath the weight of her carry-on bag. The familiar hum of overhead announcements, the shuffle of travelers dragging their luggage, and the scent of airport coffee filled the air. After a week of non-stop wedding chaos, this—an overly air-conditioned terminal and a somewhat lifeless food court—felt almost… peaceful.
Almost.
She was exhausted. Emotionally drained. And overwhelmed with the reality of what she was heading back to—a possibly flooded apartment, uncertainty about her belongings, and a whole mess she wasn't ready to face.
But first, she had to survive this journey home.
Haley and Daniel stood beside her near the security line, both looking much more refreshed than she felt.
Daniel, ever the early riser, clapped a hand on her shoulder. "You sure you're okay to travel alone? We could always—"
"I swear," Olivia cut him off, stifling a yawn. "If one more person asks me that, I might collapse out of protest."
Haley smirked. "So dramatic."
Olivia shot her a look. "I just escaped a week of forced romance, capsized kayaks, sunrise cult meetings, and karaoke dictatorship. I have earned my dramatics."
Daniel chuckled. "She's not wrong."
Haley sighed and pulled Olivia into a tight hug. "Alright, fine. But text me the second you land, okay?"
"I will," Olivia promised, squeezing her back.
Daniel gave her a one-armed hug next. "Safe travels, Liv. And don't let DFW airport break you."
She groaned. "Ugh. Dallas layover. I almost forgot."
"Thirty minutes," Haley reminded her. "You better run between gates."
Olivia exhaled dramatically. "If I miss my connection, I am blaming Emma."
Daniel grinned. "Honestly, that's fair."
With one last goodbye, Olivia grabbed her bag, adjusted her carry-on strap, and stepped into the TSA line—the final barrier between her and getting the hell off this island.
Olivia ran through the terminal, her legs burning as she dodged travelers and rolling suitcases, her carry-on strap digging into her shoulder. Terminal C to Terminal A in thirty minutes? Who planned this madness?
She barely made it onto the Skylink train, exhaling in relief as the doors slid shut.
She grabbed onto the rail, heart still pounding, when she heard—
"Olivia?"
Her head snapped up.
Standing across from her, looking just as shocked as she felt, was Grayson.
Grayson.
She blinked, her brain taking a moment to process reality. He looked… the same but different. The same sharp jawline, the same broad shoulders, the same easy confidence in the way he stood. But there was something more now—a depth behind his hazel eyes, a flicker of something unreadable.
"Grayson?" she breathed, still catching up to what was happening.
He let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Didn't expect to see you here."
"Same," she admitted, gripping the pole as the train lurched forward.
For a moment, they just stared at each other, as if their minds were both trying to piece together how this was even happening.
"So… where are you headed?" he finally asked.
She huffed. "Home. Chicago. You?"
He nodded. "Same. Layover?"
She nodded back. "DFW."
He smirked. "Ah, the chaos hub of America."
She actually laughed at that—because God, wasn't that the truth?
But reality came crashing in as the train slowed, the robotic voice overhead announcing her stop. Her gate was at final boarding call.
Shit.
She pulled her bag tighter over her shoulder and stepped toward the doors. "I have to—"
But before she could even finish, Grayson stepped off with her.
She shot him a look. "You—this isn't your stop."
He shrugged. "I know."
She shook her head, too rushed and breathless to process it.
She walked fast, scanning through her bag with one hand while maneuvering through the crowded terminal. Where was her damn boarding pass?
Grayson kept pace beside her, watching her with that unreadable expression of his.
She smiled but kept moving. She didn't have time to stop, didn't have time to think.
Then, in one sudden decision, she yanked out a permanent marker from her bag, grabbed his hand, and wrote her number on it in bold, thick strokes.
Grayson stared at it, then back at her, brows raised in surprise.
But before he could react, she did something she hadn't planned.
She looked up at him, really looked at him, and then she kissed him.
Not a polite peck. Not a casual goodbye.
A real kiss. A heated, desperate, overwhelming kiss.
And what she didn't expect was how quickly he reacted—how **he grabbed her back like it was instinct, like it was necessary.
His hands slid around her waist, pulling her against him, and the world melted away.
She felt the sound of his soft groan, the way his fingers tightened against her back, the way his mouth parted against hers in a way that made her forget she was in the middle of a terminal.
She felt the heat between them, undeniable and unchanged, as if time had never passed.
Then—
"Sir."
A quiet but pointed voice.
Grayson broke away, breathing heavy, his forehead almost against hers.
Olivia's pulse pounded, her lips still tingling.
Then, reality hit her like a truck.
She turned, catching the flight attendant's gaze as the final call announcement echoed through the terminal.
She didn't look back. She couldn't.
She just walked forward, handed over her boarding pass, and disappeared down the jet bridge—leaving Grayson standing there with her number written on his skin and the taste of her still on his lips.
***Grayson ***
Grayson stood frozen in the middle of the terminal, stunned.
The taste of her still lingered on his lips.
The warmth of her touch still burned on his skin.
And right there—written across the palm of his hand—was her number in bold, black ink.
His chest rose and fell as he tried to catch up with what the hell had just happened
Olivia.
Olivia.
She had kissed him like she needed him. Like she had been starving for it just as much as he had.
And the way she walked off—didn't even look back—like she hadn't just flipped his entire damn world upside down?
He dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.
"Sir."
Grayson turned, realizing the same flight attendant who interrupted them was still there, watching him with a knowing smirk.
"You okay?" she asked, raising a brow.
He let out a breathless laugh, glancing down at his hand again.
"Nope," he muttered, shoving it into his pocket. "Not even a little."
The attendant chuckled and walked off, leaving him standing there, still rooted in place, still feeling the ghost of Olivia's lips against his.
What the hell was he supposed to do now?
Option 1: Call her right away? No. Too soon. Desperate.
Option 2: Wait a few days? Hell no. He knew himself—he'd drive himself crazy.
Option 3: Show up in Chicago? Too much. Right?
He shook his head, trying to clear the haze she left him in.
But one thing was clear—he wasn't letting her slip away again.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling him back to reality. A flight alert—his own connection was boarding soon.
He sighed and grabbed his bag, forcing himself to move.
But as he walked, all he could think about was her. Olivia had the power to knock the breath out of him without even trying.
Grayson exhaled as he stepped out of the airport, the warm Hawaiian breeze hitting him immediately.
After hours of travel, he was finally here.
He ran a hand through his hair, hailing a cab, and tossed his bag into the backseat before sliding in.
"Where to?" the driver asked.
Grayson pulled up the text Daniel had sent him earlier with the wedding party's hotel information.
"Marriott Resort," he said, leaning his head back against the seat.
The cab pulled away from the curb, weaving through the streets toward the resort, and Grayson let himself think.
He still hadn't fully processed seeing Olivia—hadn't processed the way she had grabbed him, kissed him, and then disappeared down the jet bridge without looking back.
His hand curled into a fist, thumb brushing over his palm where her number had already begun to fade.
Did she even expect me to call?
Did she even want me to?
The thought nagged at him the entire drive.
By the time he reached the Marriott Resort, he grabbed his bag and texted Daniel.
Grayson: Just got here. Where are you?
Not even a minute later, Daniel responded.
Daniel: Ohhh shit. About time. Meet me in the lobby.
Grayson chuckled to himself and stepped inside. The resort was massive, with high ceilings, large glass windows overlooking the ocean, and guests moving through the sleek lobby with colorful drinks in hand.
He barely had time to take it in before Daniel appeared, Haley in tow.
"Look who finally decided to show up!" Daniel called, slapping Grayson on the back.
Haley grinned. "Man, it's about time. You missed all the fun."
Grayson raised a brow. "I highly doubt that."
Daniel smirked. "You don't even know."
They led him to the front desk, where he got booked into a suite—one of the same ocean-view rooms as the rest of the wedding party.
When he stepped inside, the room was pure luxury.
A king-size bed sat in the center, crisp white linens folded perfectly, while floor-to-ceiling windows opened up to a private balcony overlooking the ocean. The decor was modern but inviting, with soft neutral tones, plush seating, and dark wood accents that made it feel both elegant and relaxing.
The living area had a large sectional, a glass coffee table, and a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. Off to the side, the bathroom was just as lavish—complete with a rainfall shower and a deep soaking tub that looked ridiculously tempting after a long flight.
Haley whistled. "Damn. They really set y'all up nice."
Daniel threw himself onto the couch like he had already claimed it. "You're welcome."
Haley rolled her eyes. "Alright, I'm gonna go back and join the party before Emma notices I'm missing. Try not to cause too much chaos while I'm gone."
She pointed a finger at Daniel specifically before heading out, leaving the two men alone.
Grayson wasted no time, grabbing his toiletries and heading for the bathroom.
"Gonna shower real quick," he said, already pulling off his shirt.
Daniel stretched out on the couch. "Take your time. I've got nothing better to do."
Fifteen minutes later, Grayson stepped out of the bathroom, freshly showered, wearing black athletic shorts and a fitted tee. His hair was still damp, and he felt significantly better after the long flight.
Daniel sat up slightly. "Alright, now that you're human again—let's recap the week."
Grayson grabbed a water bottle from the minibar and sank into one of the armchairs. "This should be good."
Daniel smirked. "Dude. This week has been insane. Emma has had us on the most ridiculous itinerary—I'm talking couples kayaking, sunrise meditation, wedding crossword puzzles."
Grayson laughed. "You actually did all that?"
"Oh, you bet your ass we did. And there were outfit changes. Like, mid-event wardrobe swaps."
Grayson shook his head, amused. "I don't know if I should be impressed or scared."
Daniel grinned. "Both."
Then, Daniel stretched, kicking his feet up on the bed. "Oh, and you missed Liv."
Grayson stilled for half a second, barely noticeable—except Daniel noticed.
"She just left," Daniel continued, oblivious. "Had some emergency she had to handle back home. But man, she's great. Too bad y'all would've been perfect together."
Grayson took a slow sip of water before raising a brow. "Umm, sure, buddy. That's what you said about the other girls you tried to set me up with."
Daniel smirked. "Yeah, yeah, but this—this was different."
Grayson tilted his head. "Was it? Because if I recall, this was not a setup, remember?" He lifted his hands, making quotation marks in the air.
Daniel snorted. "Okay, okay, technically no—but, like…" He waved a hand. "If it were? You guys would've been fire together."
Grayson rolled his eyes, leaning his head back against the chair. "Right. Sure."
Daniel studied him for a second, then grinned.
"Man, I mean this in the nicest way… but she's the one."
Grayson stared up at the ceiling, sighing.
Was it too late to leave already?
Grayson groaned, rubbing his face as he stared up at the ceiling. "Alright, fine. I'll bite. What exactly makes Liv so damn great?"
Daniel grinned, stretching lazily on Grayson's bed like he had all the time in the world. "Oh, man. Let me tell you about Stargazing Night."
Grayson lifted a brow. "Stargazing?"
Daniel smirked. "Yeah. Emma had this whole romantic under-the-stars event planned. 'A night to share with the one you love' or whatever the hell she called it."
Grayson grimaced. "I already hate this."
"Oh, we all did." Daniel laughed. "So, naturally, Liv bailed."
That got Grayson's attention. He sat up slightly. "She left?"
"Oh yeah," Daniel continued, grinning. "Slipped away before the event even started. Just dipped out and went back to her room."
Grayson let out a small huff of laughter, imagining Liv sneaking away from a painfully romantic night just to avoid the awkwardness.
"So then," Daniel went on, "Haley and I got bored. And we figured, hey, let's go check on Liv. Except when we got to her room?"
Grayson lifted a brow. "What? She was asleep?"
Daniel cackled. "Oh, hell no. We walk in, and she's having the best night of her damn life—room service spread out all over the bed, dressed like she doesn't give a damn, watching a game, living her best life."
Grayson smirked, leaning forward. "Let me guess. You two crashed the party."
"Oh, not just us." Daniel snorted. "Everyone started showing up."
Grayson narrowed his eyes. "Wait… what?"
Daniel grinned wider. "Dude. Her room became the official escape zone. Eight more couples bailed on Stargazing Night and ended up hiding in Liv's suite."
Grayson laughed, shaking his head. "You're telling me half the wedding party abandoned Emma's big romantic event to crash in Liv's room?"
"Exactly." Daniel pointed at him. "Beer, chips, betting on sports—it turned into a full-on game night. Liv even started running bets—she's a low-key bookie, by the way."
Grayson barked out a laugh. "No way."
"Oh, yes way," Daniel confirmed. "She was in her element. Talking sports, handling bets like a pro, destroying this dude named Micah in football trivia." He shook his head. "It was hilarious. She wasn't third-wheeling or being the awkward single friend. She was just Liv, having the best damn time of the trip."
Grayson exhaled something warm curling in his chest.
He could see it now—Liv, completely unbothered, sitting cross-legged on the bed, surrounded by desserts and a room full of people, running bets and cracking jokes.
The thought made him smile.
Daniel stretched. "Emma didn't find out until brunch the next morning. And when she did?" He snorted. "Man, she was shocked. Thought everyone had been having some deep, romantic Notebook-style night."
Grayson shook his head, amused as hell. "And Liv just got away with it?"
"Oh yeah. She just sat there, sipping her coffee, like 'Oh yeah, Emma, it was definitely an event'." Daniel grinned. "Didn't even break."
Grayson let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.
Grayson was impressed by the woman who found a way to escape forced romance, turn a whole damn wedding itinerary on its head, and somehow pull everyone into her orbit without even trying.
Daniel's voice broke through his thoughts.
"So tell me." He folded his arms behind his head. "Still think I'm overselling her?"
Grayson didn't answer immediately.
Liv did sound great, and she really might be someone special for and fun to hang out with.
Damn.
He can't stop thinking about meeting her again, the kiss, and the timing.
It was Olivia —a walking, breathing collision course that he kept running into,
He looked up at the ceiling again, his mind racing.
Was it too late to leave already?
"Wait, if Liv had already left, why the hell was I still here?" He states frustrated.
Daniel laughed, shaking his head as he pushed off the bed and made his way toward the door.
"My friend," he said with a knowing smirk, "You are so screwed."
Grayson raised a brow. "Am I?"
"Oh, absolutely." Daniel pointed at him. "Because Haley's here, and she's my soon-be-wife. And you're my best friend. Which means if I'm stuck, then guess what?"
He grinned.
"So are you."
Grayson sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "Fantastic."
Daniel threw an arm over his shoulder as they walked out. "Come on. We're late to Karaoke Night."
The second they stepped inside the karaoke bar, Grayson had to pause and take it all in.
The place had been completely transformed into Emma's wedding-themed karaoke extravaganza.
The bar was draped in white and gold decorations, with balloons tied to every table. A large banner that read Emma & Ryan's Wedding Countdown! stretched across the back of the stage.
Emma was, of course, dead center, wearing a "Bride-to-Be" sash and a short white dress, a veil pinned to her perfect curls.
Around her, several sorority sisters and their significant others had already taken over the space, drinks in hand, laughing loudly.
The DJ booth was set up at the front, and someone had already started warming up the microphone, a screen displaying song lyrics on the back wall.
"Oh my God," Grayson muttered. "This is... a lot."
Daniel smirked. "Emma doesn't do chill."
Grayson nodded slowly. "I'm noticing that."
As they made their way toward the tables, Daniel spotted Haley sitting near the stage.
Without hesitation, he walked right up to her, leaned down, and kissed her—long and slow—like they had all the time in the world.
Grayson exhaled. "You two are disgustingly cute."
Haley smirked, still holding Daniel's hand. "We try."
Daniel dropped into the seat next to her, stretching his arms out. "Alright, now the real question…"
He turned to Haley, a serious look on his face.
"What song do you want to do as a duo?"
Haley grinned, eyes lighting up. "Ooooh. Do we go with Will Smith and Jazzy Jeff? Or something gangsta like… Warren G?"
Grayson stared at them, deadpan.
Then, slowly, he turned to Daniel.
"No, Dan. JUST. NO."
Daniel threw his head back, laughing. "Oh, come on, man! Don't be boring!"
Haley leaned in. "Grayson, you two could do something classic. Maybe 'Endless Love'?"
Grayson gave her a flat look. "I would rather fight a shark."
Daniel cackled. "Damn, Liv was right."
Grayson blinked. "Wait—what?"
Daniel just smirked, raising his glass.
"You two would've been great together."
Grayson groaned, dreading the night ahead
Grayson had seen some things in his lifetime, but wrangling a group of intoxicated wedding guests back to their rooms might've been one of the most exhausting.
It started with Daniel and Haley, who had one too many celebratory shots and were loudly arguing over their karaoke performance as he half-dragged them toward their suite.
"I definitely carried that song," Daniel slurred as Grayson hoisted him up by one arm.
Haley snorted, stumbling slightly. "Carried it where? Into the ground?"
Grayson sighed, shifting Daniel's weight. "I swear, if either of you falls, I'm leaving you on the floor."
"Rude," Haley mumbled, but she let him guide her through the hall anyway.
After depositing them safely in their room, Grayson turned—only to find three other couples in varying states of intoxication needing assistance.
"Alright," he muttered, rolling his shoulders. "Let's get this over with
During karaoke, Grayson got his first real introduction to Emma's infamous outfit changes.
The night started with her in a short white dress, her Bride-to-Be sash and veil perfectly in place.
Then, halfway through the performances, she disappeared for six minutes and returned in a pink, glitter-covered cocktail dress—as if she had just stepped out of a pop music video.
Grayson had blinked, trying to understand how she had managed it so quickly.
Then, right before the night wrapped up, Emma vanished again and came back in a gold sequined mini-dress, still perfectly on theme, complete with matching heels and a bold red lip like she was about to win an award.
Grayson shook his head. The woman had a vision and committed to it.
But her final act of the night?
That was something else entirely.
Emma, tipsy but still standing strong, grabbed the microphone, swayed a little, and declared to the entire room,
"I am leaving now because I love my soon-to-be husband… and his huge penis."
The bar fell silent. Then began to cheer.
Grayson froze mid-drink.
Daniel wheeze-laughed so hard he almost fell off his chair.
The sorority sisters scattered like birds, grabbing intoxicated guests and ushering them out before she could continue.
Meanwhile, Emma—completely unbothered—continued,
"And I plan on making full use of it tonight, THANK YOU VERY MUCH."
Grayson choked on his drink.
By the time he managed to escape the chaos, it was well past 1 AM.
By the time he finally reached his own hotel room, he was exhausted.
He tossed his keys onto the dresser, kicked off his shoes, and stared at his phone.
The time difference meant that it was early morning on the East Coast.
If Olivia was home, she was either dealing with the aftermath of her apartment situation or asleep.
He wanted to text her.
But then came that nagging feeling—the one creeping from the back of his mind.
His past history.
The hesitation that came from his ex-wife, from getting it wrong before, from not knowing if this was just another missed moment waiting to happen.
Grayson sighed, stepping out onto his balcony, letting the sound of the ocean crashing against the beach fill the silence in his head.
For a long moment, he just sat there, phone in hand, debating.
Then, finally, he just typed out one simple sentence.
And hit send.
By the time his head hit the pillow, sleep pulled him under—
And Olivia's name was the last thing on his mind.