Summary: A reimagining of the team scene at The Grand from Chapter 12, involving flirty Grayson and Laurel.
When she and Eva walk over to the booth at The Grand, Laurel is taken aback for a second. She introduces Eva to Kenji and Grayson, trying not to stare, but her gaze keeps flickering back to Grayson as she slides in to the booth next to him. Grayson looks at her with a half-smile on his face, noticing the way she keeps glancing at him.
“You wear glasses?” she asks him in surprise as Eva settles next to her.
“Not usually. I got something in my eye and can’t wear my contacts. I’d go without them, but I’m pretty blind otherwise,” he explains, adjusting the frames slightly.
“They look good. You should wear them more often,” Laurel assures him, biting her lip to keep the smile from creeping across her face.
Laurel sees Poppy’s mouth open out of the corner of her eye and shoots her a warning look, knowing exactly what she’s about to say. Poppy winks at her, smirking, and turns to talk to Eva.
Grayson’s lips quirk up. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
When he goes to the bar to get drinks, Poppy scoots over to her. “So, you’re not going to tell Grayson you have a thing for a man in glasses?” she asks, grinning.
“I do not have a thing for a man in glasses,” Laurel protests.
“You’ve literally told me you do!” Poppy reminds her with a laugh.
Laurel groans. “I’ve got to stop telling you stuff. You remember everything.”
Grayson returns, and Laurel gratefully takes a sip of her drink as he scoots back in next to her. He’s on her mind when she proposes a toast to love, and she can feel him watching her, is acutely aware of his hand just inches from hers on the booth when he clinks his glass in and says, “And old flames burn bright.”
He smiles at her when she leans back in the booth, their fingers brushing together, and she can’t help but smile back, not realizing how long she keeps her eyes locked on his until she hears Eva laugh next to her.
“Do you two always do this?” she asks in amusement, gesturing between them, and Laurel drops her gaze immediately, feigning fascination with her coaster.
“Do what?” she asks nonchalantly, taking a sip of her drink, just as Poppy says, “All the time.”
“Poppy!” Laurel says, feeling her cheeks turn pink.
Grayson just chuckles, his fingers finding hers on the seat and squeezing gently.
“I’m kidding!” Poppy says, but she’s almost shaking from trying not to laugh.
“You’re the worst,” Laurel grumbles, then shoots Poppy a grin as the first round of shots arrive at their table.
The first one burns her throat going down, though she giggles at Dax’s disgusted face. The second shot burns too, but she doesn’t notice it as much when she realizes Grayson is still holding her hand, his thumb running circles over her skin absentmindedly. The third shot fills her with a pleasant warmth, and she can feel her inhibitions melt away as she leans against him and catches the faint scent of his cologne.
“You good?” he murmurs, looking at her in amusement as she peers up at him.
“I hate tequila,” she sighs.
Grayson smiles. “So do I.”
“We should dance!” Poppy suddenly announces, and she grabs Dax’s hand and nearly hauls him out of the booth.
“I don’t dance!” Dax protests, his words slurring slightly.
Kenji makes a grand gesture of bowing and holding his hand out to Eva, who raises an eyebrow and pointedly slides out of the booth without taking it, saying, “Let’s go, pretty boy.”
Laurel can hear Kenji protest being called pretty boy as they walk off, can feel Grayson laugh against her. He asks her if she wants to dance, and part of her wants nothing more than to have him hold her on the dance floor, but a bigger part of her really just wants to stay curled up next to him.
“I kind of like it right here,” she says.
Grayson lets go of her hand and slides it around her waist. “I do too.”
Laurel tilts her face up, bringing her hand up to trace over his jawline, sucking in a quiet breath when she sees Grayson’s throat bob as he swallows. She lets her fingers wander down, ghosting lightly over his neck and playing with his top undone button. He makes a quiet noise, his hand traveling lower to rest on her thigh, his fingers tracing patterns over the denim of her jeans.
“Grayson,” she says in a whisper, and the look on his face when he tilts his head down to look at her makes her breath catch.
He’s looking at her like he wants her, which makes her stomach flip all on its own, but he’s also looking at her with so much warmth and affection that it makes her heart clench. He’s looking at her like he doesn’t want to look at anyone else, like he only has eyes for her. Like he might…love her, she dares to let herself think. She’s known him long enough now that she can usually read his expression, and this is one she’s only seen a handful of times. The night his father interrupted them. At the hospital. After their dinner date. Parked at the overlook.
“Yes, Laurel?” he says in a low voice, and she almost whimpers at the thought of him saying her name like that when they’re alone.
She leans in, gripping his collar, her lips hovering over his. She’s full of liquid courage and desire, her heart pounding and her face flushed from the alcohol and from being pressed up against Grayson, her hand wandering lower to rest on his chest. “I want-“
“Guys! We have more shots!” Laurel jumps, nearly cracking Grayson in the jaw as she whips her head up at Kenji’s shout and finds the rest of the team piling back into the booth, a waitress setting another tray full of shots down.
Laurel groans quietly at the interruption. She loves her friends, even though their timing is awful. Still, it’s nice being able to hang out with everyone like this, even though she torments herself with hazy, alcohol induced thoughts of Grayson as everyone grows steadily more inebriated. Eventually, when Dax is bleary-eyed and laughing at things that aren’t really funny, and Kenji slams his head on the table as he accidentally dozes off, everyone starts to call it a night.
“Wait!” Poppy suddenly blurts out as everyone stumbles out of the booth. “Laurel. Did you tell Grayson?” she asks, in a horrible attempt at a whisper.
Grayson looks adorably confused and intrigued. “Tell me what?”
“Nothing!” Laurel says hastily.
“Laurellll,” Poppy drawls, giggling as she leans on Dax. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Poppy, for the love of-“
“Laurel has a thing for men in glasses,” Poppy says in an exaggerated whisper.
“Oh god,” Laurel mutters, covering her eyes.
Kenji and Dax have apparently missed the whole exchange in their drunken stupor, both of them asking Eva why Laurel is suddenly so red and won’t look at anyone. Eva just chuckles, pushing them and Poppy towards the door and calling out, “Have fun, you two!”
She can’t look at Grayson. “Well, this is embarrassing,” she mutters.
When she finally dares to look up, he’s watching her with that same look on his face from earlier. She watches in slow fascination as he steps closer, taking her hand in his.
“Come with me?” he asks.
“Where?”
“My office,” Grayson murmurs, and she sucks in a breath, suddenly a little hesitant.
“Laurel. Not that,” he reassures her. “I want that, but…not when we’ve both had this much to drink,” he says, grinning.
Laurel flushes. It’s as if he can read her mind. “Oh, good,” she says quietly, relieved.
He raises an eyebrow, looking at her in amusement, and she feels her cheeks turn even redder as she desperately tries to backpedal. “That’s not what I meant,” she blurts. “I meant, I mean, I want that too. But not when we’ve been drinking.”
Grayson smiles. “You’re cute when you babble.”
She doesn’t even protest about the babbling, just shaking her head with a wry smile and twining their fingers together as they walk to his office. Once they’re inside, she reaches for him, gripping his shirt as she leans against the door.
“I’ve been waiting all night to kiss you,” he murmurs, pressing his lips gently along her neck.
“Me too,” she sighs, tilting her head.
“This okay?” Grayson asks, his hands sliding around her hips.
“More than okay. I’d be upset if you stopped.”
She hears him laugh quietly as he guides her to the couch. “So you like the glasses?”
Laurel groans. “Yeah. I do. But mostly I like you in them.”
Grayson nudges her to sit down, sitting beside her. She glides her hand over his chest, feeling his warmth, the outline of muscle. He tilts her chin up with his thumb as he leans in to kiss her, and she groans when he gently bites her bottom lip.
“Mmm,” she whimpers, closing her eyes and fisting her hand in his collar when he kisses her more insistently.
She curls into his side, desperate to be closer as their kisses grow deeper, almost frantic, until finally she slides one of her legs over his and settles on his lap. Grayson groans, his blue eyes flying open to stare at her.
“You’re going to make it difficult to stop,” Grayson says hoarsely.
“I just…I want you,” she admits.
“Oh, Laurel,” Grayson says, running his hands down her back and settling them around her waist. “Believe me, I want you too.”
She knows it won’t go any further than this tonight, doesn’t want their first time to be a drunken mess in his office at The Grand anyway, but kissing him and being this close to him just feels so damn good. Laurel leans down, her lips just barely touching his, sighing when Grayson pulls her in closer and presses his lips to hers.
She loses all track of time as they kiss again and again, his hands gently wandering under the back of her shirt and exploring the bare skin of her low back. Her hands find their way into his hair, scratching over his scalp and tickling at the back of his neck. Grayson finally wrenches away with a groan when she starts rocking her hips against him.
“Sorry,” she murmurs, sitting back and sighing when he runs a hand through her hair.
“What are you apologizing for?” he asks her.
“I don’t know, actually,” she says after a minute, and starts laughing when he grins at her.
She moves to sit back beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. Grayson threads their fingers together, tracing over her knuckles. It makes her sleepy, the soothing motion combined with his warmth, the steady thump of his heartbeat quiet in her ear.
“We should probably head out before you fall asleep,” he says after a few minutes, nudging her gently.
Laurel mumbles her agreement, letting Grayson help her to her feet. “Hey. Can I ask you something?” she asks as they walk back through the bar.
“Of course,” he says, helping her into her coat.
“That night of the gala…you were going to tell me something, but your dad interrupted us,” she begins, putting her hands in her coat pockets as they walk out into the cool late night air.
“And again at the hospital,” she continues, “And after dinner…” she trails off when she sees a flash of recognition cross his face. He knows what she’s talking about.
Grayson sighs, running his hand over his hair and looking at her a little sheepishly. “We do get interrupted a lot.”
“So…are you going to tell me?” she asks hopefully.
“I am. But not tonight.”
He smiles at her sweetly, affectionately, taking her hand. “I want to tell you when you’ll remember it.”
“Hey,” she protests. “I’ll remember tonight. You’re kind of unforgettable.”
There’s a long silence, and then Laurel says, “That was really cheesy, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” Grayson laughs. “But I like cheesy.”
“You’re in luck then,” she giggles. “I have lots of cheesy lines.”
“Laurel, I promise I’ll tell you what I’ve been trying to say,” Grayson assures her. “But at the right time. Preferably when we’re not going to be interrupted. Okay?”
“Promise?”
He nudges her chin up as their cab arrives, brushing his lips sweetly over hers. “I promise.”