shaking her head. “Everybody has a drinking story.”
Lauren rolled her eyes. “I have one, but it’s not crazy or anything—just one of those ‘you had to be there’ type funny stories.” Seeing Grey nod expectantly, she sighed. “Fine. Back when I was in my final year of culinary school, my girlfriend at the time and I spent our spring break touring Britain. After doing the whole London thing for a week, we hopped a train north to Edinburgh.”
“Because haggis is amazing?”
“Ha ha, no. It’s not as bad as everyone makes it out to be, though.” Lauren grinned at the way Grey’s face twisted in disgust. “It’s kind of like black pudding. Anyways, we were on our way back to the taxi queue at the bottom of the hill after exploring the castle, when we saw a sign for The Witchery. Being the culinary geeks that we were, we had read about the bed and breakfast’s restaurant, so we decided to go check it out. We wandered through a corridor that led to a little courtyard, and ended up in a vestibule that was elevated above a stunning dining room. Painted ceiling, french doors overlooking a private terrace, it was amazing. If you’re ever in Edinburgh, you need to go there.”
“Sounds like it.”
“Anyways, we ordered a bottle of wine with our dinner, which later became two with dessert, and, well, you’ve seen how clumsy I can be…”
Grey arched a brow in agreement as she lifted her glass to her lips. “Are there knives involved in this story?”
“No.” Lauren chuckled and shook her head. “So, clumsy ass that I am, I knock the bottle of wine off the table with my elbow, and it shatters on the floor, spilling what had been a rather excellent Pinot Noir all over the place. Our waiter comes running over with a stack of towels in his hands and we’re both apologizing and everybody’s watching us, and he just looked at us, grinned, and said, ‘What a waste of perfectly good alcohol’ as he started cleaning up the mess.”
“What a waste of perfectly good alcohol,” Grey repeated with a laugh.
Lauren nodded. “Exactly. So we start giggling like mad because, well, we’re both pretty well toasted, and, that was it. I wasted perfectly good alcohol.”
“Aww, that’s cute,” Grey drawled, smiling at Lauren over the rim of her glass.
“Shut up,” Lauren muttered, rolling her eyes. “I told you it wasn’t a good one. So, your turn. Best drinking story.”
Grey sighed dramatically. “Junior year of college, a bunch of us went out to dinner at Benihana’s before a concert.”
“Which concert?” Lauren interrupted.
“Does it really matter?”
Amused that Grey obviously did not want to reveal that bit of information, Lauren grinned and nodded as she lifted her glass to her lips. “Absolutely.”
“’N Sync,” Grey admitted, and laughed when Lauren spit her drink all over the table. “Don’t be wasting perfectly good alcohol!”
“Oh my god,” Lauren chuckled, shaking her head as she reached for a napkin. “You really went to an ‘N Sync concert?”
“It was for my friend Cody’s birthday and he had a massive crush on Lance Bass and yeah, we took him to see ‘N Sync. Anyways, do you want to hear the rest of the story, or do you just want to tease me about the concert?” Grey retorted, feigning annoyance.
“Can’t I do both?”
Grey laughed and shook her head. “No.”
“Fine,” Lauren huffed. “Continue.”
“Thank you, your majesty,” Grey murmured sarcastically. “So, we went to Benihana’s for dinner before the concert. We all knocked back like 3 shots of tequila before the chef ever came out, and by the time he actually started cooking, we had polished off another shot and were working on bottles of Sapporo. We were, needless to say, not feeling any pain at that point.”
“I’ll bet.”
Grey just smiled and nodded. “Right, well, the chef starts doing the whole choppy-flippy-thing, and I decide that I could do it, too. I still don’t know why
Lauren rolled her eyes. “I have one, but it’s not crazy or anything—just one of those ‘you had to be there’ type funny stories.” Seeing Grey nod expectantly, she sighed. “Fine. Back when I was in my final year of culinary school, my girlfriend at the time and I spent our spring break touring Britain. After doing the whole London thing for a week, we hopped a train north to Edinburgh.”
“Because haggis is amazing?”
“Ha ha, no. It’s not as bad as everyone makes it out to be, though.” Lauren grinned at the way Grey’s face twisted in disgust. “It’s kind of like black pudding. Anyways, we were on our way back to the taxi queue at the bottom of the hill after exploring the castle, when we saw a sign for The Witchery. Being the culinary geeks that we were, we had read about the bed and breakfast’s restaurant, so we decided to go check it out. We wandered through a corridor that led to a little courtyard, and ended up in a vestibule that was elevated above a stunning dining room. Painted ceiling, french doors overlooking a private terrace, it was amazing. If you’re ever in Edinburgh, you need to go there.”
“Sounds like it.”
“Anyways, we ordered a bottle of wine with our dinner, which later became two with dessert, and, well, you’ve seen how clumsy I can be…”
Grey arched a brow in agreement as she lifted her glass to her lips. “Are there knives involved in this story?”
“No.” Lauren chuckled and shook her head. “So, clumsy ass that I am, I knock the bottle of wine off the table with my elbow, and it shatters on the floor, spilling what had been a rather excellent Pinot Noir all over the place. Our waiter comes running over with a stack of towels in his hands and we’re both apologizing and everybody’s watching us, and he just looked at us, grinned, and said, ‘What a waste of perfectly good alcohol’ as he started cleaning up the mess.”
“What a waste of perfectly good alcohol,” Grey repeated with a laugh.
Lauren nodded. “Exactly. So we start giggling like mad because, well, we’re both pretty well toasted, and, that was it. I wasted perfectly good alcohol.”
“Aww, that’s cute,” Grey drawled, smiling at Lauren over the rim of her glass.
“Shut up,” Lauren muttered, rolling her eyes. “I told you it wasn’t a good one. So, your turn. Best drinking story.”
Grey sighed dramatically. “Junior year of college, a bunch of us went out to dinner at Benihana’s before a concert.”
“Which concert?” Lauren interrupted.
“Does it really matter?”
Amused that Grey obviously did not want to reveal that bit of information, Lauren grinned and nodded as she lifted her glass to her lips. “Absolutely.”
“’N Sync,” Grey admitted, and laughed when Lauren spit her drink all over the table. “Don’t be wasting perfectly good alcohol!”
“Oh my god,” Lauren chuckled, shaking her head as she reached for a napkin. “You really went to an ‘N Sync concert?”
“It was for my friend Cody’s birthday and he had a massive crush on Lance Bass and yeah, we took him to see ‘N Sync. Anyways, do you want to hear the rest of the story, or do you just want to tease me about the concert?” Grey retorted, feigning annoyance.
“Can’t I do both?”
Grey laughed and shook her head. “No.”
“Fine,” Lauren huffed. “Continue.”
“Thank you, your majesty,” Grey murmured sarcastically. “So, we went to Benihana’s for dinner before the concert. We all knocked back like 3 shots of tequila before the chef ever came out, and by the time he actually started cooking, we had polished off another shot and were working on bottles of Sapporo. We were, needless to say, not feeling any pain at that point.”
“I’ll bet.”
Grey just smiled and nodded. “Right, well, the chef starts doing the whole choppy-flippy-thing, and I decide that I could do it, too. I still don’t know why
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