All's Fair in Love and Las Vegas

Chapter Seventy-One

        He threw me down on the mattress, professional wrestler style. I was laughing so hard I was almost choking. It probably didn't help that he'd almost knocked the air out of me, either. I lay flat, staring at the ceiling and breathing hard. Still cackling at his success, he plopped down next to me and kicked back the blankets. 

        "No fair," I whined. "You're twice my size."

        "I'm five inches taller than you."

        "That's twice my size if you count the muscles," I complained.

        He flexed, saying, "You're so adorable when I toss you around."

        I groaned. "You're not supposed to toss me around!"

        Grayson laughed and bent down, pressing a warm kiss to my forehead. "Sorry, Jacks, I won't do it anymore if you don't like it."

        "I mean...it's not terrible," I grumbled. When he got his wicked grin, I held up my hand and quickly said, "But I'm too tired now."

        "Okay. Ready for bed?" he asked, getting up and grabbing his backpack. He was still dressed in his slacks and button-down shirt, which I didn't think was the best smackdown outfit.

        "I'm ready," I said sleepily, watching as he went into the bathroom.

        While he was getting dressed, I set my alarm. My awful, ungodly-hour alarm. The ceremony was set for two, meaning I had to get up at five thirty in the morning. Six hours from now. 

        I heard Grayson swear, so I checked the bathroom door. It was still there. "You okay?"

        "I must've not packed a pajama shirt," he said, the panic in his voice apparent.

        I snickered. "What, was having Clay around too chaotic?"

        "Clay is always chaotic," he reminded me. 

        "Just wear a t-shirt or something," I said, figuring that he could survive this Clay-induced crisis.

        "I don't have one," he replied. "I just have all these dress shirts that I can't wrinkle."

        Biting my fist, I had another brilliant idea. "You could borrow a shirt of mine," I said, keeping the laughter out of my tone.

        "Ha, ha. Didn't we just confirm I'm twice your size?"

        "Fair." My shirts would be eternally stretched out. "Do you even have pants?"

        More swearing ensued. Now I was belly-laughing as I asked, "What did you even pack in that bag?"

        "Essentials! Like deodorant and toothbrushes and hairbrushes and–"

        "Hairbrushes plural?" I teased.

        I could hear Grayson rolling his eyes. "You know what I meant!"

        "So you have zero pajamas," I summarized.

        "Yes. Gosh, this wedding is stressing me out," I heard him murmur.

        I sighed. "Grayson, it's fine. Just go to bed."

        "Bed? Where? In what?" I almost expected him to ask himself who he was.

        "Over here, duh," I said, trying so hard to be patient with him even though he was totally freaking out. "I don't mind if you don't have pajamas."

        The longest pause ever followed before he finally said, "Y-you sure you wouldn't mind?"

        "No, I don't mind," I said casually. Things were so normal between the two of us that the notion of Grayson sleeping next to me in just his underwear didn't bother me all that much. We were comfortable.

        I take it back. Things got uncomfortable fast.

        I gasped softly and immediately hid my face in my pillow, hating how hot my face felt. I tried thinking about anything else. Garbage trucks, angry kittens, ginger ale, literally anything other than the fact that not only was Grayson shirtless, but also the fact that his boxers left way too little to the imagination. There were so many facts right now, it was hard to think straight or act naturally.

        It got so much worse when he crawled into bed. Thankfully, he stayed on his own side. That was one fact going in my favor. Unfortunately, that was about all I had in my favor right now.

        "Night, Jackie," he said, his tone implying that he knew how awkward it'd gotten in a matter of minutes.

        "Night," I said thickly, squeezing my eyes shut hard. I told myself not to think about it, but of course, that was all I could think about.

        "Jacks, this is ridiculous, I'm sleeping on the couch," Grayson finally said, tossing the blankets back.

        "Don't be silly; that thing is lumpier than a pillowcase full of potatoes." This was a true statement, the couch was a disaster. If he slept there, he wouldn't be able to stand up straight tomorrow. 

        I exhaled slowly and said, "You can stay. Okay? Don't worry about it."

        "But you can't sleep," Grayson argued.

        "I can," I said, trying to convince both him and myself. "Just anxious about tomorrow."

        Doubtful, he slowly laid down again, pulling the blankets back up. I closed my eyes, now realizing that even if it was super, horribly awkward, having him next to me half-naked was better than not having him there at all.

        I was so...attached. It's probably not a good thing, to like being around him so much. But even as I drifted off to sleep, an entire ocean away yet less than two feet to his right, I couldn't help but feel comforted by the fact that he was there.

        Even though the wedding was tomorrow.