The One I Want

Summary: Laurel has a bad day, but it ends on a good note. Set sometime before their first actual kiss in Book 1.

Laurel thinks if her Thursday gets any worse, she might scream. Or cry. Or maybe both. First, she wakes up late. She runs out of favorite body wash. Her ancient coffee maker finally decides to give up completely. She misses the train while she’s waiting in line at the coffee shop down the street from the station.

Just as she’s about to duck around a corner and fly to work, the sky opens up, drenching her, and thunder starts booming overhead. By the time she hastily texts Grayson that she’ll be late while she runs home, she’s completely soaked and freezing. She gets changed, then accidentally dumps her latte all over her clean shirt.

“Unbelievable,” she mutters as she changes yet again.

By the time she gets to work, she’s incredibly late, and quietly slips into the meeting room, trying to ignore the raised eyebrows at her tardiness as she sinks into the seat next to Grayson. She takes over jotting down notes, but her pen dies halfway through, naturally. Grayson wordlessly slips her another one, giving her a brief smile. His fingers brush hers, and it sends a jolt through her and distracts her momentarily, and she flushes as she hastily tries to catch up and Grayson looks at her curiously.

When they take a break for lunch, she drops her forehead to the table in relief and sheer frustration. She jumps when someone asks if she’s alright from behind her, thinking the room was empty. Grayson is there, looking at her with mild concern.

“I’m fine,” she insists. “Just a bad morning.”

“Anything I can do?” he asks.

He steps closer, retrieving his phone from the table, the scent of his cologne lightly wafting over her, and he’s close enough that she could reach out and pull the loose thread off his dress shirt if she was feeling daring.

“Laurel?”

She jerks her head up, giving Grayson what she hopes is a convincing look. “I just need food and coffee and I’ll be fine. I’ll get caught up on the notes from this morning while you’re at lunch.”

By the time everyone gets back from lunch, she’s mostly caught up on the morning’s work she missed, and she’s feeling a little less frazzled and more put together.

She’s surprised when Grayson ends their last meeting early and gets ready to head out. He looks mildly annoyed and a little apologetic as he puts his coat on and explains that he has a function and needs to go meet his date.

Laurel almost blurts out, “Your date?”, but she manages to swallow the words down, and instead says something that she hopes sounds neutral and friendly. It’s none of her business who Grayson dates. He’s her boss and her friend, even though she sometimes feels like they’re inching, slowly, towards more than that. But maybe that’s just her imagination. She swallows hard against the ball of emotion forming in her throat as Grayson pushes his desk chair in and gets ready to head out.

“Have fun,” she says, wincing internally at how her voice is an octave higher and how forced her cheerfulness sounds.

Grayson sighs, taking his keys out of his pocket. “My father and her father are in the middle of some financial negotiations.”

His jaw clenches slightly. “It’s a play on both their parts to try and swing things in their favor.”

Someone knocks on his office door, and they both turn. Laurel doesn’t recognize the tall, pretty brunette, but Grayson greets her warmly as she leans in to kiss his cheek.

“Laurel, this is Jennifer,” he says.

Jennifer gives Laurel a faintly condescending look as they shake hands and says, “Grayson’s assistance, right? Silas has mentioned you.”

The way she says “assistant” makes Laurel bristle, and in her head, Poppy is half-jokingly reminding her that she has super strength.

“I’ve known Laurel for years,” Grayson interrupts, obviously trying to alleviate the tension. “She’s a good friend.”

Laurel hides a smile at the pinched look on Jennifer’s face as she glances at Laurel again. “Of course,” she says with a thin smile. “Grayson, we should go. We’ll be late.”

Laurel tries to ignore the way her stomach drops watching Grayson walk out with Jennifer, her hand on his arm and her laughter echoing back into his office. She could go home, but she doesn’t really feel like sitting alone in her apartment, so she grabs a few stacks of paper she’s been meaning to get to and heads back to the board room. The documents aren’t particularly thrilling, but they do require her concentration, and she loses track of time as she works her way through them.

The elevator dinging startles her after a while, and she curses quietly as her finger slips against an envelope and begins bleeding. She reaches for a Kleenex in the middle of the table, and sends a stack of documents drifting to the floor. Laurel huffs out a sigh, pressing the tissue to her finger and glaring at the papers now scattered around. Everything from the day hits her all at once, and much to her dismay, her vision starts swimming as tears pool in her eyes.

“Laurel? What are you still doing here?”

Grayson is standing in the doorway. Her eyes dart to the clock, and she realizes it’s almost ten o’clock. At least he’s alone now.

“I…” Laurel goes to explain, feeling the tears welling up even more and swallowing hard.

She will not cry over a bad day in front of her boss.

“I…” she goes to try again, but she can’t get the words out.

Grayson is suddenly sitting in front of her, pulling his chair close, his fingers gently touching her hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just had a bad day,” she mumbles, staring down at the floor.

She blinks a few times, trying to discreetly wipe away the few tears that fall, but it’s hard to be discreet when Grayson is sitting right in front of her and looking at her with such concern. She’s a little surprised when he reaches out, his thumb gentle over her cheekbone as he brushes at her tears, and Laurel sighs, leaning into his touch.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do?” he asks, his fingers warm against her skin.

“It was just a bunch of little things,” she mumbles.

His brow furrows as he gazes at her.

“I overslept,” she finds herself saying. “My coffee maker broke. It started raining when-“ she catches herself, “-when I was trying to make the train and I got drenched. I spilled my coffee when I went home to change. I just gave myself a paper cut. You-“ she catches herself again.

She won’t, can’t, admit to Grayson that seeing him head off on a date made her heart clench and made her feel worse. That’s not his fault. But of course he hears her, his mouth opening as he goes to say something.

“It was just a bad day,” she says again, hastily, before he can ask her what he did.

Grayson lowers his hand from her face after a minute, standing and reaching for her hand instead.

“Come on. I have bandages in my office,” he says, tugging her to her feet.

His fingers are long and warm and gently squeeze hers as she rises, following him down the hall to his office. Grayson rummages in a drawer, his touch gentle as he pulls the tissue away from her finger and wraps a bandage around it.

“Thank you,” she murmurs.

She’s leaning back against his desk, suddenly aware of how close he is as he slowly lowers their hands.

“You’re welcome.”

With the way her day has been going, Laurel isn’t really all that surprised when they both slowly start to lean in, his eyes locked on hers, his hand drifting up to cup her face, and his phone suddenly goes off.

Grayson frowns as he pulls it out of his pocket, glancing at it and then setting it down on his desk.

“Your date?” Laurel asks.

“No,” he answers. “My father, asking why her father is suddenly being even more difficult about this negotiation.”

Laurel looks at him curiously. “What happened?”

Grayson shrugs. “I didn’t really want to be there with her. She figured it out pretty quickly.”

“Oh?”

Laurel sucks in a quiet breath at Grayson’s heated gaze. He won’t make the first move, she knows. He’s her boss and too much of a gentleman to just assume anything, so she lightly grips his dress shirt and he leans in.

“Who did you want to be there with?” she asks softly, and Grayson smiles at her gently.

“Do you really have to ask, Laurel?”

“No,” she answers, sighing as he tilts his head down and their lips finally meet, soft and slow.

Grayson threads his hands into her hair, pressing his lips to hers a little harder, and she groans, leaning into him. His stubble tickles pleasurably over her skin, her hands running around the back of his neck and into his hair.

“I wanted to be there with you,” Grayson murmurs against her mouth when they part briefly.

“Mmm,” she whimpers, finding his lips with hers again.

Grayson chuckles quietly at her impatience, his hands trailing down her side and wrapping around her back, holding her close as he kisses her again and again. When she finally, reluctantly pulls back, she’s flushed and he’s smiling, his eyes bright as he looks at her. She can feel her eyes start watering again, from the day and finally, finally, kissing Grayson, and she laughs quietly as she swipes at the tears again.

“Sorry,” she says. “It’s been…a weird day.”

He takes his face in her hands, his lips brushing the tears off her cheeks, then moving back across her lips, a slow, sensual kiss that makes her moan low in her throat.

“Grayson,” she whispers.

His lips spread into another smile against hers as she slowly opens her eyes, staring at him. She burrows into his chest as his arms come back around her.

“I have to confess something,” she says, her voice slightly muffled as she presses her face to his shirt.

“What is it?”

“I’m kind of glad your date didn’t go well,” she admits.

His chest rumbles underneath her as he laughs. Grayson tilts her chin up, craning his head down to kiss her again.

“That date wasn’t going to go anywhere, Laurel. But speaking of dates…what are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Working,” she reminds him. “It’s the end of the quarter, remember? Lots of paperwork.”

Grayson frowns, then gives her a playful smile. “We really need to talk to your boss about your schedule.”

Laurel grins. “He’ll be there tomorrow night, you know. Maybe you can have a word with him.”

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