I was still unpacking when Kylie stopped by. She looked incredible, wearing a fitted silver dress with a leather jacket. However, she was frowning.
"Why aren't you ready for dinner?" she asked.
I rolled my eyes at my reflection in the mirror and said, "Grayson and I are specifically not invited."
"Why the blazes not? You and Clay were supposed to be my survival team for the night?" she asked, personally offended.
I pursed my lips. "Laura thought it would be nice for Grayson and I to have some 'alone time' so she can have a grandchild."
Kylie whistled. "Get it, girl!"
"No, I will not be 'getting it,'" I grumbled. "Bad enough we have to fake loving each other."
"Come on, you have to admit you've thought about it," she pleaded.
"Nope." Lies. I've thought about it much more than I should've considering we aren't actually together.
Kylie, of course, wasn't ready to end the conversation. "I bet he's thought about it," she said slyly.
"Probably not." More lies; I know Grayson has thought about it. Well, maybe not today, but definitely in the past.
"Well, if you change your mind, you absolutely, definitely still have that red set I gave you, right?" she said with all sorts of warning tones.
"Unfortunately, I still have it," I grumbled. Maybe that's what Grayson and I could do tonight: start a fire. That would be a fun bonding activity.
Kylie winked and said, "Good luck! Have fun; we'll be back around midnight."
"Spit in her food or something, will you?" I said grimly as Kylie left. She'd figure out who I meant.
Exhaling slowly, I kept folding clothes and throwing dirty ones in the hamper. I would probably spend the night cleaning up, maybe doing a puzzle. I loved puzzles. Maybe I'd take a hot bath, too.
Daydreaming about puzzles and baths had its limits. I was surprised to feel Grayson step up behind me, his arms immediately falling around my waist. I closed my eyes for just a moment, drawing in his warmth before asking, "What are you doing?"
"Giving my wife a hug," he said, and I couldn't help but blush. Then I mentally smacked myself; I shouldn't be getting such a rush of happiness just from being called his wife. Yet even after this conclusion, a giggle still escaped my mouth when he nuzzled my shoulder.
"What are we doing tonight?" I asked, unable to keep the smile off my face.
"I don't know. What do you want to do?"
"Uh..." I trailed off, my thoughts fried as he lightly kissed the curve of my neck. He's doing it again, and he knows it. He's such a tease. Worse, he knows exactly how distracted I get when he's like this.
I swallowed. "Any suggestions?"
Grayson turned me around, pinning me to the dresser and hovering less than an inch away. He could've kissed me had he wanted to. Then he leaned in, whispering, "I have a game."
My nerves shot through the roof. "W-what kind of game?"
He gestured to the bed, where I looked. Then I instantly burst out laughing, Grayson joining me in my hysterics. I swatted his chest, laughing, "Monopoly?"
"What else would it be?" he giggled, taking my hand and plopping down on the floor across from me.
I was still close to tears. "You made it sound so suggestive," I cackled.
Grayson was rather pleased with his joke. "Anyways, I thought this could be fun."
"What would make it more fun is if the winner gets to pick what the loser has to do," I said thoughtfully.
Too late, I realized this was a bad idea. Unless he happened to miss out on this golden opportunity, which was unlikely. He lit up, much too excited at this notion. "Deal. Hmm...what to pick..."
I had to think of something good too. We pondered briefly before Grayson announced, "Okay, if I win, you have to plan a date for us."
I raised an eyebrow. "What kind of date?"
"Just a surprise, something nice or cute or fun," he said, setting up the bank.
"Deal," I said, not finding this to be too big (or embarrassing) of a request.
"And what do you get if you win? Not that you will," he asked, his competitive side showing through.
I grinned wickedly. "If I win, I get to give you a lap dance."
Grayson's eyes went wide, clearly unexpecting this sort of answer. He chewed his lip, clearly regretting all his former life decisions before finally saying, "Only if I get to pick what you wear."
Okay, he's willing to make the stakes higher. "Deal," I said, knowing that I have never, not once lost a game of Monopoly in my entire life.
He gave me a chilling look as he passed out the paper bills and set his little hat token on the board. I chose the car, as I always did, and thus the game began.
For a while, there was no clear winner. We each had a fair chunk of properties, and some hard trades were made. But then slowly, I started inching ahead. First it was houses, then a set of hotels. Grayson scrambled to keep up with my outrageous purchases, both of us developing property at astronomical rates.
"Okay, a thousand dollars," I said, checking my rates.
Grayson swore. "You sure? I thought it was nine hundred."
"Either way, that is a pretty stack of fives you have over there," I said with a smirk.
Groaning, he sold back some houses and handed me the cash. Adding to my riches, I teased, "I thought you were the actual businessman, Grayson Answell."
"I'm supposed to be," he said, resting his chin in his hand while he maniacally plotted his revenge.
On his next roll, he got snake eyes. Meaning he had to spend a night at my other hotel. I think that's when it set in, that he was slowly tumbling towards defeat. He scrounged up more money, selling back houses and mortgaging things.
Fifteen minutes later, I'd entirely broken him. He was homeless, without assets, and owed me ten dollars that he couldn't produce. His hair had taken quite the toll as well, sticking up in at least five different directions.
"How are you so good at this?" he bemoaned, helping me pack up the box.
"No clue. Maybe I should be handling your company, too," I joked.
"I wouldn't get so cocky," he warned. "I still get to pick your outfit, remember?
My stomach flipped. "Right," I squeaked.
Grayson laughed wickedly as he disappeared into the closet. I could hear him rummaging around, and for a second, I wondered if I should make my escape while I still could. Even though the dance had been my idea, I was having second thoughts. Thoughts about running away to New Zealand.
He emerged, clearly hiding something under his shirt. He went into the bathroom, coming out with his shirt not so bulgy. He winked and said, "It's on the counter, love."
"Oh, gosh," I muttered, crawling to my feet. Now I was nervous. Shutting myself in the bathroom, I sneaked a glance at the counter. Immediately, I started laughing, huge, hysterical laughs that seemed to well up from the depths of my gut.
"Grayson!" I howled, in tears.
"Don't keep me waiting!" he called from the bedroom, snickering.
Giggling uncontrollably, I took out the inflatable t-rex costume and got to work, blowing it up and all the while laughing. This was possibly the height of my short yet crazy life. More laughter erupted as I saw the heels he'd picked out. They matched perfectly.
The costume was quite the ordeal; it took me ten minutes to get it on, then another ten minutes to put on my shoes with my plastic, short arms. I had no idea how I was going to pull this off, but it would be glorious.
Opening the bathroom door, I leaned against the door frame. That was a mistake. I missed (how does one miss a door frame?) and toppled into the wastebasket. Grayson, who had been sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, got up to help, except he was mostly laughing at me. Wiggling, I found that I couldn't stand up.
"G-grayson," I wheezed, crying in my suit. This was pure comedy.
"O-okay, I'll, I'll help," he choked out, biting back a wave of laughter. He helped me to my feet, where I promptly wobbled. Adjusting my giant head, I said, "I'm here."
"Yes, you are," he snickered, sitting back down.
I tried walking up to him seductively, except I'm pretty sure my tail ruined the effect. Grayson bit his fist, clearly close to another round of hysteria. A new problem presented itself: my arms were basically useless. Out of ideas, I simply fell forward so he could catch me.
"I can't sit," I said simply.
He was in tears again. "Let me help you."
It took some work (I lost a sock off my foot) but he helped me wiggle so my feet were off the floor and I was sitting in his lap, facing him. He also had to hold me against his chest, since I couldn't hold on with my arms.
"You good there, Jacks?" he asked, his voice strained with hidden giggles.
"Never better, baby," I said in a low voice.
Then I made the mistake of trying to roll my hips. We both yelled as we came crashing to the floor, my tail getting entirely squished and the chair making a sharp crack. Grayson, being human, simply fell in a heap. I, being a dinosaur, awkwardly bounced and slammed on my back.
"A-are you okay?" he asked, laughing much too hard.
"Fine!" I wheezed. "I can't get up though!"
He howled, holding his stomach. I wiggled my little arms and kicked my ginormous, heeled feet, making him laugh even harder. Finally he crawled over to me, unzipping the back of the costume and helping me out.
"And that is how the dinosaurs went extinct," I said, out of breath.
"I think that is the funniest thing I've ever experienced," Grayson said, sitting down on the carpet.
"That's the funniest thing I've ever done," I replied, giggling. "Also, why do you have that thing?"
"It's Clay's Christmas present," he confessed. "I'll have to buy him another one since this one is used."
I let out a snort of laughter. "Well, thank you for that."
"Of course. I've always dreamed of seeing you in a t-rex costume," he said, wiggling his eyebrows. I laughed again, finding now that my stomach hurt from all this joy.
"Are you hungry? I'm kind of worn out from all that uh, dancing," I said with a grin.
Grayson laughed, standing up before helping me to my feet. "Yeah. Should we order a pizza?"
"Pizza sounds great," I said.
He grinned. "Maybe we can be even naughtier and eat food in bed."
I gasped loudly. "Grayson!"
"I know, right? We're so bad," he crowed, pulling out his phone to order the pizza.
I plopped down on the bed next to him, curling up in the crook of his arm. "Can we go back to Toronto?"
He looked surprised. "We just got here this morning."
"I know, but I liked it when it was just you and me," I sighed.
"Careful how you word things," he teased, and I chuckled. But his smile faded as he said, "Gracelynn's wedding is in less than two weeks, and we've got our own wedding to plan. We can't exactly just..."
"Run away?" I said softly.
Grayson gave me a sad smile and kissed my forehead. "I know," he murmured. "I'm sorry, Jacks."
"It's okay," I said gloomily. "At least Gracelynn's wedding will be fun."
He cringed. "I...really doubt that. Her parents are just like mine, except nicer, and she's more fit for the fabulous, elegant life. It'll mostly be her rich friends and their parents talking for an evening."
"Sounds boring," I mumbled.
"Yep. The food will be good, at least," he said, forever trying to be optimistic. "And you and I can hang out."
"That'll be nice," I said, ignoring the loud growl my stomach made.
"That'll be nice," I said.
Down the hall, the doorbell for the gate buzzed. Grayson kissed my cheek and said, "Pizza's here. Be right back."
While he was gone, I checked my phone. No messages. I chose to text Kylie, asking if she was okay. She replied instantly, saying that Laura was cuckoo and asking how my night was going.
All I told her was that Grayson and I were eating dinner now. For some reason, I didn't want to tell her about the t-rex costume. That felt...I don't know. Special? Secret? An inside joke? Something. Something that only Grayson and I could know about.
Of course, Kylie asked just what exactly I was eating, and I very firmly (in all caps) told her that we were having pizza and nothing else. Then I asked when she would be home and she said it was at least another hour. Wow. Laura was really grilling her.
"I have pizza!" Grayson said triumphantly, setting the box on the comforter. He'd also procured two plates and napkins. "Greasiest and cheesiest in all of Vancouver."
"Ew," I complained, laughing.
"No, trust me, this stuff is like heaven in your mouth," he assured me, handing me a slice.
"Oh, that is good," I said, delighted.
"Look at us, having a nice night even though we know Thanksgiving dinner is tomorrow and that it will be chaotic!" Grayson said cheerfully.
I swallowed. "I think it's the grease clouding our minds."
"Probably," he agreed.
I laid down while eating, not caring that I was now a choking hazard to myself. Grayson did the same, and soon we had finished off the entire pizza. A wicked idea came to mind, and I whispered, "What if we don't brush our teeth?"
"Gross," he complained. "You can go for it, but I'm not kissing you if you do."
"You're not kissing me anyways," I pointed out.
"That is very true. So it's your funeral," he said, going into the bathroom.
I quickly changed into my pajamas while he was gone, and then I remembered what I'd promised myself back in Toronto. I didn't really feel like sleeping alone on the little sofa tonight. But I was getting much too close to Grayson.
It's just one more night, I told myself. Tomorrow I'd choose the sofa.
Grayson came out of the bathroom wearing fuzzy flannel pajama pants with little polar bears on them. Grinning proudly, he said, "I left these at home when we left. That was a stupid choice. But now we are reunited!"
I covered my smile with my hand. "They're cute," I said truthfully as I threw out our dirty plates and the pizza box.
He crawled into bed and whispered, "You know what we should do?"
"What?" I whispered, lying down next to him.
"Get matching jammies for Christmas."
Stopthat'ssocute. "That sounds fun," I said, trying not to let on just how excited the thought of us having matching pajamas made me.
Still smiling, he pulled me into his arms and cuddled my head against his chest. "Night, my little dinosaur."
"Excuse me, I was a big scary dinosaur," I said indignantly.
Grayson kissed my cheek. "Of course you were, baby."
"You're making fun of me," I complained, laughing.
He giggled. "How could I not?"
"That's fair," I laughed, settling in and closing my eyes. "Night, Grayson."
"Night, Jacks."