“You sure you have everything you need?” My mom asks as we climb into her car. It’s an unusually dreary morning in Las Vegas and the bleak weather makes me glad to be leaving for Aspen today.

“I think so,” I tell her. “But if I don’t have it now, I’ll just have to do without it.”

She nods as she pulls out of the driveway and while we make our way through the early morning traffic towards the airport, we sing along to her favorite Pat Benatar CD. It’s actually been great spending time with her these past few days. Bob’s been busy at work so Mom and I have spent time going to her yoga class, spinning pottery, and trying new recipes we found online. The bonding has been wonderful and I’m actually sad to leave today,  but I’m also ready to be with Christian again. Despite the fun I’ve had with Mom, I really miss him.

His family left Seattle at 5:50 this morning, so by the time I board my flight, they, theoretically, should already be in Aspen. I was asleep when I got his text this morning that they were on the way to the airport which meant that I didn’t get to wish him a safe flight, so I hope that he calls me when he lands.

We pull up at the drop off outside the automatic doors to McCarran International Airport, and I briefly glance at the other travelers exiting the cars around us before I lean over and hug my mom goodbye.

“Thanks for the great week, Mom,” I tell her. “I’ve had a great time.”

“I’ll see you again before you leave, right?” She asks.

“Yes, I’ll be back next Friday,” I assure her.

“Have a wonderful time, sweetie, and tell Christian that Bob and I say hello,” She says. I promise that I will and get out the car, grabbing my luggage from the trunk before I step through the doors and into the terminal.

I’m running a little late, but thankfully Christian has booked me an early flight so the lines aren’t long at the counter which means it only takes me about 15 minutes to check my bag and get my tickets. With my winter coat draped over my arm, I pull my luggage behind me as I rush through the airport and security. When I make it to the gate, I find that they’ve already begun boarding, but I want to let Christian know I’m on the way before I get on the plane. I pull out my phone and I’m just about to text him, but the moment I select his name on the screen of my phone, he calls me.

“Hey, are you in Aspen? I’m just about to board,” I say as I answer the phone.

“Yeah, Kate just landed so Elliot is going to get her,” Christian says.

“Why didn’t she fly with you?”

“Her family was in Portland for something,” He says, and something changes in his voice. Suddenly, he sounds uneasy. “I need to tell you something.”

“What?” I ask apprehensively.

“She’s here.”

“She?”

“Elena.”

“What?” I snap, but he’s unable to answer right away as he’s interrupted by his sister on the other end.

“I’ll be right there, Mia. Go wait with Kate and Elliot,” He says away from the phone before returning to speak to me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know until we got off the plane and they were waiting at baggage check for us. I thought they were in Arizona this week but when my Mom called to invite them, they said they would meet us here.”

“Oh.”

“Do you still want to come? I understand if you want to stay in Vegas. Maybe I can leave here early and spend the rest of the break there with you?”

I roll my eyes as I immediately dismiss the thought of him spending days, no matter how few, under the hawk-like watch and influence of the bitch troll.

“No, no. I still want to come,” I assure him.

“Good,” He says, and I hear the relief in his voice. “We have to get a bigger cabin with all the extra people, so we’re going try to make a new reservation and then go out to breakfast. I’m hoping by the time we’re finished, your plane will just be landing.”

“Who’s all there?”

“My family, the Lincolns, Kate and her brother…”

“Ethan is there?” I ask brightly. I can’t remember the last time I saw Ethan, that almost makes up for the inclusion of Mrs. Robinson in the trip.

“Yes,” Christian says. “Are you close with him?”

“Well, yeah. He’s my best friend’s older brother. I’ve known him since he was nine years old.”

“I see,” He says, and I pick up on the tightness in his voice. I sigh with frustration. I mean, I know he can be jealous and all, I saw that with Carter, but Ethan? The guy is like a brother to me.

“May I have your attention please. This is the final boarding announcement for flight A1327, non-stop service to Aspen,” A disembodied voice announces over the intercom.

“I’ve got to go, Christian. My flight is about to leave without me.”

“Be safe,” He says.

“I will, see you soon. Bye,” I say, and I hang up the phone and hurry off to my flight.

I take my seat, on the aisle thankfully, and settle in for what is supposed to be a quick flight. I’m glad I’m leaving in the morning and not late afternoon because I think that I can sleep most of the way there. I know it’s probably smart to bank as much sleep as possible now before I’m left with Christian for the entire week. There is a blindfold in my carry on so I slip it over my eyes to block out the light and movement around me, and I’m asleep before the flight attendant finishes with the pre-flight safety announcement.

Attention passengers, we are making our final descent into Aspen, Colorado. Please make sure your trays are in the upright and locked position and please remain seated with your seat belt fastened for the remainder of the flight. We certainly hope you’ve enjoyed your flight with us today and thank you for flying United Airlines.”

The voice of the stewardess breaks into my unconsciousness, pulling me from my dreams. I lift the blindfold, squinting through the sunlight around me. It takes only ten more minutes before we’re on the ground and as soon as the plane comes to a stop I call my mom to tell her I’ve landed and then gather my things to de-board the flight.

The terminal is crowded, likely made worse by the fact everyone is wearing a huge coat. I pull the down jacket I bought with Kate last week over me, knowing it’s probably freezing outside. It takes me about  fifteen minutes to navigate my way through the unfamiliar airport to the doors that lead to baggage claim, but as soon as I make it to the waiting area, I see Christian standing there, waiting for me. I smile at him and rush forward into his open arms. He wastes no time before his lips quickly take mine in a deep, sensual kiss that is probably a little inappropriate for the public setting.

“I’ve missed you,” He whispers against my lips when he finally breaks the kiss.

“Me too,” I say, feeling a sense of relief wash over me, like all of my muscles are finally able to relax as a stress I didn’t know I was feeling is suddenly lifted.

“Ana!” I hear Kate say behind us and Christian exhales with irritation as he’s forced to relinquish me to her.

“Hi, Kate. How was your week?” I ask.

“Great! Are you excited for skiing? I can’t wait.”

“Banana!” Ethan calls, walking up beside us. He wraps his arms tightly, lifting me from the ground and swinging me around in a circle.

“Ethan, put me down!” I giggle as he sets me down and holds me at arm’s length as if to examine me.

“Hey, kid,” He says with a smile. “You look good.”

“You too. How was Italy?”

“Amazing. Wish I could have stayed there forever but I guess now I’m making my way back to lowly old University of Washington where I’ll have to look up at you in your Ivy League Ivory Tower and hope you won’t forget me.”

“Shut up,” I laugh, playfully slapping him in the arm. I feel Christian’s arm wrap around me and when I look up at him, I can see him glaring at Ethan, looking him up and down as if he’s sizing him up.

“We better get to the cabin,” Christian says to me, though he continues to look at Ethan. “My parents are waiting for us.”

“Okay,” I reply, giving a small apologetic smile to Ethan as Christian takes my hand and leads the way to baggage claim. I point out my suitcase as it comes around the carousel and Christian hands it to Elliot, who drags it along behind him as we make our way out to a rented black SUV in the parking garage.

“Shotgun!” Elliot calls once my bag is safely tucked in the back with the rest. Christian rolls his eyes at me while Elliot rushes forward to the passenger’s side. Kate, Ethan and I climb into the back and buckle in as Christian pulls out of the garage.

“So how’s Harvard, Banana?” Ethan asks. I feel Christian’s eyes looking at me through the rear-view mirror, but I ignore him.

“Great,” I respond. “Cambridge is beautiful and my classes last semester were really good.”

“I can’t believe you two went ivy,” Ethan says, wrapping his arms around Kate and I. “Freakin’ nerds.”

“Well, maybe if you spent a little more time studying math and science in high school instead of studying… anatomy, you’d be right there with us,” Kate says.

“But then I’d be lame like you, Sis,” He says. I laugh and look up to meet Christian’s eyes in the mirror. His gaze is cold as he stares at Ethan so I shrug awkwardly out from under his arm and direct the conversation to Elliot, who can’t seem to contain his excitement about hitting the mountain. He tells us about a new run that has opened since the last time they’ve been here until he is interrupted by Christian’s cell phone ringing.

Christian reaches into his pocket and pulls out his blackberry, looks down at the screen, but instead of answering, he rolls his eyes and hands the phone to Elliot.

“Hey, Dad,” Elliot answers. Hmmm… is Christian still not speaking with his father? “Yeah, just text me the address, we’ll put it into the GPS,” Elliot continues, and he hangs up. Several seconds later, the blackberry buzzes and Elliot types an address onto the screen on the dash. A robotic female voice comes over the stereo speakers and directs us step by step until we’re in front of a huge, storybook looking cabin.

There is a busy commotion as everyone is immediately in a rush to get out of the car. Elliot begins unstrapping several sets of skis from the roof of the SUV while Kate and Ethan open the back trunk and start pulling out suitcases. I step out onto the snow covered ground, glad I had the foresight to wear boots, and walk around the back of the car where Kate hands me a large duffle bag and a purple carry on suitcase that is mine. Christian helps me with the larger of my bags and we follow an overexcited Elliot into the house.

“Mom? Dad?” Elliot calls the moment he’s through the door.

“Ana’s here!” I hear Mia’s voice ring down through the hall. She rounds the corner into the hallway that leads to the front door and smiles broadly.

“Ana!” Mia calls, running forward and hugging me around the waist.

“Hey, Mia!” I giggle.

“You’ve got to see my new skiing outfit. It’s. so. awesome.”

“I can’t wait,” I say with a smile.

We follow Mia down the hall and enter into the living room/dining room combination. The kitchen is just off to our right and the first people I see are Carrick and Mr. Lincoln standing next to the breakfast bar talking to one another. Well, if Mr. Lincoln is right there, that must mean the bitch troll is lurking around here somewhere…

“Ana!” I hear Grace call from my left. I turn to look in the direction of her voice and see her setting a mug on a side table, getting up from a couch where she had been sitting with Mrs. Lincoln. Elena’s eyes glisten at me with malicious promise as Grace crosses the room and envelops me in a hug. I stare back stone faced at Elena so that she knows I’m not intimidated by her.

“We’re so happy for you and Christian, dear. You two seem so good for one another,” Grace says.

“Thank you, Grace,” I say, smiling at her. “And thank you for the Christmas gift you sent to Ray. It really was so unbelievably kind and I can’t tell you how much that will mean to him or how much it means to me. So thank-you.”

“We were happy to do it, dear,” Grace says.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Elliot says. “Ana’s great, Mom’s really nice… let’s go skiing. What are we sitting around for?”

“All in good time,” Carrick says, joining us from the kitchen. “Let us get settled in and relax for a while. It’s still early, son.”

Elliot groans as Carrick claps him on the back.

“Kate!” Grace says when she finally lets me go. Kate steps forward to hug Grace and I smile at the both of them until I notice Elena getting off the couch. As slyly as possible, I take a step to the right to place myself in between her and Christian.

“Katherine!” Elena coos as she too embraces Kate. “You look just as beautiful as ever.”

“Thank-you, Mrs. Lincoln,” Kate says brightly. “I’m so happy you and Mr. Lincoln decided to come.”

“Andrew and I just couldn’t miss an opportunity to spend time with the kids. Especially with Christian and Elliot away so often now,” She turns to look at Christian, who scowls at her, but she pays him no mind. Instead she releases Kate and turns to me, her tone noticeably cooler.

“Hello, Anastasia,” She says.

“Mrs. Lincoln,” I say in a tight voice. Oh what I wouldn’t give to not have Grace standing literally two feet away.

“We didn’t think you’d be able to make it. I know that you have budgeting constraints that Katherine doesn’t.”

I feel anger begin to boil inside of me as I feel Carrick’s eyes turn to me. What do I say? This is exactly the reason why I feel so uncomfortable with Christian paying for everything.

“Ana is here because I want her here. That’s all you need to worry about,” Christian says, and Elena’s smile turns into a grimace.

“Christian,” Grace chides him gently. “Speak more kindly, son.”

Christian rolls his eyes and leans down to pick up my duffle bag off the floor.

“What room can Ana and I take?” He asks.

“You and Elliot will be in the room next to Mia. Kate and Ana will sleep in the room next to the Lincolns, and Ethan, you can take the room at the end of the hall, dear.”

“Come on, Mom,” Elliot complains. “I don’t want to share a room with Christian, he sucks. Put him and Ana together and me and Kate together.”

“I don’t think so,” Grace says. “While you’re staying in the house with us, boys and girls won’t share rooms.”

“Grace,” Carrick says in a careful voice. “The boys are adults and this is their vacation too. If they want to share rooms with their girlfriends, they should be able to.”

“I don’t know, Carrick,” Elena says. “Is that the best example to set for Mia. She’s only thirteen and so impressionable.”

“Exactly,” Grace says, nodding appreciatively at Elena.

“Fine, Ana and I will get a hotel room,” Christian says, turning for the door.

“Son, wait,” Carrick says. Christian turns around and looks at him expectantly. “You and Ana may have the room next to the Lincolns.”

Christian nods once as his father waves us to the direction of the stairs. Elliot and Kate pick up their bags, walking awkwardly in front of us as we hear Carrick speak to Mia behind us.

“No sleepovers with boys until college,” He says, and she laughs.

Once we reach the top of the landing, Kate and Elliot take the first room on the right and Christian and I walk down the hall to the last room on the left. He ushers me inside and closes the door behind us.

“This week is going to be great!” He says sarcastically. “I’m sorry, Ana. They didn’t tell me she was coming or I wouldn’t have asked you to come.”

“I’m glad you asked me, Christian. She can only ruin this vacation if we let her.”

He snorts and my eyes narrow.

“What?”

“She’s in my Dad’s head. Thankfully, my Mom doesn’t care either way, she’s just ecstatic that I have a girlfriend. I think she’s overwhelmingly relieved I’m not gay. I can’t overstate how much that woman wants grandchildren.”

“Well if your Mom is happy, your Dad will come around. Who cares what Elena thinks?”

“You think I give a fuck what Elena thinks? She’s not worried that you’re a gold digger, Ana. She knows you’re not. She’s just pissed that I’m fucking you, and pissed off Elena is a force to be reckoned with. But it doesn’t matter, she can stay pissed and she can say or do whatever she wants. It’s not going to change anything. I’ll fuck you against this wall every night we’re here if she wants to play games with me.”

“Is that all we’re doing? Fucking?” I ask, and he narrows his eyes at me.

“Ana, please. You know that I …” But his sentence is cut off by three loud bangs on the door.

“Dude, let’s GO!” Elliot calls, and Christian rolls his eyes and takes my hand. We walk downstairs where the Grey family and the Lincolns are waiting, dressed in clothes fit for a day of skiing.

“Why aren’t you ready?” Elliot complains, looking at my jeans and Christian’s canvas shoes.

“Ana and I need to go into town. We’ll join you on the mountain tomorrow,” Christian says.

“You don’t want to ski?” Grace asks.

“Ana’s never been skiing. She needs equipment and some lessons before she tries a run,” He tells her. Grace nods her head but Elena exchanges a knowing glance with Carrick. I watch him glance worriedly to Christian and know that I’m going to have to deal with this whole money issue sooner rather than later.

“You snooze, you lose,” Elliot says, picking up his skis and turning for the door. The rest of the Greys follow after him.

“See you tonight?” Kate asks, a little disappointed that I’m not coming along.

“Absolutely. Have fun!” I say with a wave. She smiles at me and turns to leave, closing the door behind her. The second the door is closed, I feel Christian’s arms wrap around me, behind my lower back and knees, and I’m lifted from the ground. He darts to the stairs and I giggle as he carries me off to our room.

An hour later, we climb into the black SUV, dressed in warm, waterproof clothes and pull down the long street towards town. We pass several red brick and gray stone buildings that look like frosted gingerbread houses under the blanket of snow that lies over their roofs and ledges. Christian stops in front of a store with a rack of skis out front and I following him through the glass door that tinkles as we enter.

“Hello, how can I help you today?” A young man standing behind the counter asks as we begin to look through the displays around the store.

“What would you recommend for a beginner?” Christian asks, and the salesman nods and takes us to the front of the store.

“These are the Volkl Aurena Skis with Essensa 4motion 10.0 bindings. They’re light but carve well and they’re going to give you a smooth float with minimal energy expenditure. You’re not going to get the speed from these you’d get from say the Atomic Cloud Nine Arc Skis, but these are much easier to turn and handle off groomed trails. If you’re looking for a quality ski, but are just starting out, this is the way to go.”

“Good, we’ll take them.”

“Boots?” The salesman asks, taking my new skis of the rack.

“Yes,” Christian says, and the salesman leads us to a wall with shelves filled with boots and large boxes. I try on a few pairs, answering the salesman’s questions about the fit and how they feel until eventually I end up with a pair of black boots that feel clunky and rigid, but secure. Christian pulls a bright fuschia ski jacket off a rack for me because he thinks the sky blue down jacket I’m wearing won’t be as easy to see against the snow on the mountain, and we follow the eager salesman to the register.

I cringe when Christian swipes his credit card for $937.86. This isn’t going to make it easier to squash this whole money issue with Carrick, but Christian has been adamant throughout the entire store that I need my own, fitted equipment, not some generic rental. Part of me wonders if the most important issue to quell is Christian’s idea that he needs to buy my affection, not Carrick’s concerns about my intentions with Christian’s money.

“Thank-you,” I say meekly once we’re in the car.

“You’re welcome,” He says, leaning over to the passenger’s seat and kissing me gently. He pulls out of the parking lot and drives to the ski resort on the outskirts of town. I step out of the car onto the hard packed snow and look up at Aspen Mountain looming overhead. I can see tiny dots of black that are the skiers flying down the white face of the mountain and the speed and the way they move is both awe inspiring and overly intimidating. A rush of fear swells inside of me and, for a moment, I think maybe my mom was right and skiing isn’t the best idea for me.

“Ready?” Christian asks when he’s taken my new skis off the roof of the car. I reach out and take them from him, nod my head hesitantly, and he turns to lead the way towards the lodge.

Once we get our lift passes, we head out to a wide flat area that lies at the base of several runs. While I strap into my boats and secure my skis, skiers and snowboarders whisk their way through the open area on their way down the hill or on their way to the lifts on either side of the clearing. I look at both of the chair lifts uncertainly, not sure if I’m ready for this, but Christian doesn’t lead me to either of them. Instead he takes me to a small area that is more of a gradual slope than a hill by any standards with a simple mechanical tow rope coming up the side and spends the next hour showing me how to keep my skis straight, how to turn, and most importantly, how to stop.

“Bend your knees a little,” He instructs as he moves alongside of me, far too graceful as he glides over the snow. “That’s it. Now, make the ‘v’ with your skis to stop, slowly now… Excellent! Well done, Anastasia.”

I exhale with relief as I manage to come to a full stop without ending up on my rear-end. He works patiently with me until I can manage the steepest parts of the incline without trouble.

“Do you think you’re ready for an easy run?” He asks hesitantly.

“I think so,” I reply, unsure. Even though I managed this without falling, the slopes are another matter entirely, and all I can see as I watch people race down the mountain side is the opportunity for pain.

“I won’t leave your side, baby,” He promises, nodding in the direction of the nearest lift. Digging my poles into the snow, I follow after him. We wait patiently together as the lift comes around and picks up group after group of nervous looking skiers. It doesn’t escape my attention that most of the people in line with us are small children with their parents. When it’s our turn, I glide forward and look nervously back at the chair coming for us.

“Hold your poles in your left hand and reach back with your right to grab the lift,” Christian tells me. I do as he says and am relieved when the chair hits me in the back of the knees, effectively doing all the work for me by forcing me to sit down. We are swept away from the ground and into the air, the chair swaying slightly as the track above us tugs us forward.

“I love it up here,” Christian says as he relaxes into the seat. “Snow is quiet and there’s almost a tranquility in the solitude of it all.”

“Yeah,” I agree, looking down at the snow covered branches of trees that sparkle in the sunlight beneath us. “It’s beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful,” He says. I smile, and he leans over, kissing me deeply. I welcome his tongue into my mouth and revel in the bliss of the feeling of his lips on mine as we gently sway over the slopes of Aspen mountain. When he pulls away from me, he glances forward assessing the distance we have left until the lift ends and then turns back to me.

“When it’s time to get off, keep your knees bent and your skis straight. Your poles won’t help you so just hold them in your hand and keep them off the ground. When it’s time to get off all you’ll need to do is stand up.”

“I feel like this is one of those things that’s easier said than done,” I say nervously. I can see the end now and the chair ends at the top of a high slope. One by one, the skiers in front of us stand and disappear as they move forward down what I can only guess is a hill on the other side.

“I’ll be right here if you need help,” Christian says. I nod and focus all of my concentration on the pending challenge ahead. The chair in front of us swivels out of the way and it’s our turn. I mimic Christian, letting my skis dangle over of the snowy mound ahead of us, and the moment I feel the skis touch the snow, Christian puts his hand under my left elbow and gently pulls me forwards in a gesture for me to stand. I follow after him and, with the help of his firm grip on my arm, manage to keep my balance and ski gently down below, successfully stopping myself only when I’m out of the path of the skiers departing the lift behind us.

“Well done, baby,” Christian says, and I smile back.

He skis forward and I follow him around a curve to the start of the run. It’s much more steep than the area he took me to practice, but under his gentle, encouraging instruction, I manage to make it down without falling. We do the run several more times and as I become more and more comfortable, I begin feel an excited elation in the speed and the smoothness of the snow beneath my skis when we race down the mountain. As my excitement grows, so does my confidence, and it ultimately makes me a better skier. When I am finally able to make it down without any help from Christian at all, he starts giving me more space. I watch him as much as I can, impressed as he seemingly does everything possible to make the easy run more challenging. He skis up onto the side of the mountain, takes the sides of the run that have drops in them, and as I watch him I wonder if he’s bored being stuck here with me all day. Clearly he’s a great skier, he probably wishes he was on the more difficult runs with Elliot and Kate.

“Do you want to try something a little more challenging?” I ask when we make it to the bottom of the hill.

“Oh, you’re not ready for that yet,” He says. “Difficulty in ski runs isn’t gradual, Anastasia. There is a huge difference between this run and the intermediate run and until I know you’re comfortable enough to keep a cool head if you get into some trouble, we’re going to stay right where we are.”

I frown but he leans down to kiss me gently.

“You’re doing great. I’m very impressed,” He says gently, eliciting a smile from me. “I’m also very hungry and it’s starting to get dark so what do you say we call it a night, head back to the house, and eat and relax for the rest of the night?”

“You’re done already?” I complain. Now that I’m not as scared of falling, I’m really starting to see how fun this is.

“We’ll be back first thing in the morning. Trust me, Elliot will have us all up at daybreak,” He promises. I nod and ski next to him back to the the lodge. We rent a locker to store our equipment in overnight and as Christian walks hand in hand with me back to the SUV, I notice how strange it is to feel my boots move. I guess it doesn’t take long to get used to the rigidness of the ski boots.

When we get back to the car, Christian opens my door for me and I stare out the window back at the lights of the resort as we pull down the hill. Snow begins to fall as we stop in front of the cabin. Each of the windows are brightly lit as if they are welcoming us home in the coming snow storm. Christian grips tightly to my hand as we hurry through the cold breeze to the front door. Now that the sun has gone completely down, it’s really quite cold out here.

“They’re back!” I hear Mia call when we step through the front door. The cabin is warm and filled with delicious smells wafting from the kitchen, which stoke the intensity of my hunger. Christian takes my coat to hang on the already overloaded rack next to the door, and by the time I’m out of my boots, Mia, Kate, and Elliot round the corner.

“So how was it?” Kate asks as we walk forward to the living room.

“Fun!” I say. “I’m excited to get out there again tomorrow.”

“But you did okay? You didn’t fall or anything?”

“No. Christian is a great teacher,” I say with a smile. Kate hooks her arm through mine and we lead the way to the kitchen where Grace is pulling large bowls out of the cabinet and serving a hot chicken and cheese tortellini soup. Christian and I sit at the table listening to Mia talk about her first perfectly executed jump on the mountain today. It sounds like everyone had a great time and again, I worry about Christian missing out on the fun.

“It’s just a shame you had to miss out on so many family memories that were made today,” Elena says to Christian, vocalizing my fears as she stirs her soup with a spoon.

“Ana and I had a wonderful time today, Mrs. Lincoln,” Christian says. “I’m very happy with this afternoon.”

“You’ll come on the mountain with us tomorrow though, won’t you, Ana?” Mia asks.

“Maybe,” Christian replies for me. “We’ll have to see when Ana is ready to go on the harder runs.”

“Not all of us can be expert skiers like you,” I tell her, and she smiles brightly back at me.

After dinner Elliot and Kate suggest we all go out and sit in the hot tub. We head upstairs to change into swimming suits, but Christian tells me to go ahead without him.

“I just want to have a word with Elena,” He says darkly, when no one else can hear us.

“Don’t,” I tell him, but he shakes his head.

“I’ll meet you down there in a minute.”

I sigh and head up the stairs to our room to change alone. Thankfully, Kate had the foresight that something like this may happen last week so one of the things I bought was a new swimsuit. I slip into the black and white polka dot bikini and then wrap a huge white bath towel around me, push my feet into the slippers that came with the room, and make my way down the stairs. Grace and Mr. Lincoln are seated in the living room so I assume Christian was able to pull Elena aside, and as I make my way through the house, I find myself peering around corners and listening intently, trying to discover where they are.

Grace smiles at me as I step through the back french doors onto a large deck. I peer through the flakes of falling snow and see there is a staircase off the right that I think leads to the hot tub where I can already hear Kate, Elliot, and Ethan. Off the the left, Carrick is leaning over the railing talking on his cell phone.

“Send the brief over to me and I’ll look it over this evening,” He says. I watch him hang up the phone as I turn to walk down the stairs but after a moment’s hesitation and surge of courage, I decide on something else.

“Mr. Grey,” I say, turning around to face him. He smiles when he sees me and puts his phone in his pocket.

“Anastasia,” He says with a nod. “You better get down there, it’s freezing out here.”

“Yes, sir,” I say. “But first, I was hoping I could talk to you for a moment.”

“Of course,” He says. “What is it?”

“I just want you to know that I really like your son,” I say, and he smiles.

“That’s wonderful to hear, dear.”

“I know you’ve had some concerns because Christian and I come from very different backgrounds but I’m not interested in him because he’s wealthy.”

Carrick’s face wrinkles with discomfort so I continue without offering him the chance to speak.

“Christian is kind, and smart, and generous, and he makes me feel like the most important girl in the world. I wouldn’t care if he didn’t have a penny to his name. It’s a privilege just to know him and even more to be his girlfriend because of who he is, not what he has. He’s an amazing man. I think… I think I’m falling in love with him and I hope that both you and Grace know that I would never do anything to take advantage of him or to hurt him in any way.”

He scrutinizes me for a moment but his eyes soften and he nods.

“Thank-you for sharing that with me, Ana. Christian has had a rough past and both Grace and I worry about him all the time. I suppose we’re a little overprotective so I appreciate you coming to speak with me. I am truly happy that he found you. I can see that you make him happy and in the end, the only thing I want for my son is happiness.”

“Me too, sir.”

“Please, Ana. Call me Carrick.”

“Carrick,” I correct myself. He smiles, and gives me a brief hug.

“Now get down there with the other kids and enjoy yourself.”

“I will,” I tell him, and I turn around and walk down the stairs. Kate, Elliot, and Ethan all sit around the edge talking animatedly so, once I’m down the stairs, I hang my towel on a peg by the wall and slowly sink into the steamy water. For the next few minutes I tell Kate about my first day skiing until Christian appears behind me and dips into the water at my side.

“How did it go?” I ask when the others are distracted by Elliot’s description of a new movie coming out that he wants to see.

“She’s not backing down,” He says in a low voice, and I nod, knowing that would be the outcome.

“I spoke with your Dad just now,” I tell him, and his eyes widen with fear.

“What did he say to you?” He asks, trying to suppress anger.

“Nothing,” I assure him. “I wanted to talk to him.”

“Why?”

“I just wanted him to know why I’m here.”

He gazes at me, unsure for a moment, so I lean over and press my lips to his. It’s soft and innocent at first but quickly develops into something deeper and more sensual.

“Ugh, you guys are disgusting now,” Elliot says as Christian’s hand brushes into my hair. He pulls away from me and turns to look sardonically at his brother.

“Your face is disgusting,” Christian says.

Elliot snorts before slamming his hand down into the water, drenching Christian and I. I giggle as Christian retaliates with his own wave of water and, while the two of them go at it, I move out of the splash zone, relax, and sit content with the knowledge that Elena can’t use Christian’s parents against me any longer.

Next Chapter

 

2008 starts off with a bang as the very first thing I do is make love with Christian Grey. He takes me in the small living room, on each of the couches, the coffee table, and on the desk across from the bed in the bedroom. We indulge in one another again and again, for hours. I lie panting on the unrelenting polished surface of the desk, reeling from the high, unable to speak or move. I’m exhausted, my body aching from exertion.

“Have you had enough?” Christian asks, in a low voice over me. I look up at him, still on top of me, holding my left thigh up with one arm, supporting his weight on his other forearm next to my head. There is a sheen of sweat on his brow and a delighted glint in the gray of his eyes. He presses his lips to mine, kissing me softly as he pulls out of me. I wince at the sensation but relish in the soreness. He lifts me and carries me to the bed, laying me down gently on the pillows, and then crawls into bed to lie next to me. I snuggle into him, resting my head on his shoulder, and he holds me, stroking my hair gently. We lie there for a while in silence and I wonder if he’s waiting for me to fall asleep. I don’t though. I won’t allow myself to because I don’t want to miss a single moment with him.

“Do you want to take a shower?” Christian asks when he realizes I’m still awake.

“Sure,” I tell him. I’m tired, exhausted even, but I haven’t had my fill of him yet. I wonder how long that feeling lasts? Is it just because this night still hasn’t technically ended? Will it continue into tomorrow? The rest of the week? It’s then that I remember that he’ll be leaving back to Seattle soon and I’ll still be here in Vegas. Kate said Elliot was only staying for one day, is that true for Christian as well?

“What is it, Anastasia?” Christian asks once he’s rolled out of bed. I look up at him as he stands over me, a Greek god carved from marble towering over me. I gaze longingly at his perfection, lost in the graceful curves of his muscles beneath his skin.

“Anastasia?” He goads me, and I blink from my distracted daze and look up into his expectant gaze.

“Will you leave with Elliot in the morning?” I ask.

“Yes,” He says simply, and I feel my face fall with disappointment.

“Come back to Seattle with me,” He suggests.

“Kate has already booked us through tomorrow and we promised my mom we would hang out with her,” I say regretfully. “I need to spend time with her.”

“What are you doing next week?”

“I don’t know. Hanging out at home, I suppose.”

“My family and I are going to Aspen on a skiing trip on Sunday. Come. Spend the week with me.”

“To Aspen? I don’t know how to ski.”

“We’ll figure it out. My mother would be ecstatic if you came, my sister would love to see you, and I don’t want to be away from you until term starts on the 14th.”

“Two weeks,” I say regretfully, knowing that time without Christian would feel interminable. “I’ll talk to my Mom about it tomorrow.”

“Can I meet her?” He asks.

“My Mom?”

“You’ve met mine,” He says. “And when else will I get the chance? Don’t you think your mother should meet your boyfriend?”

Boyfriend? I feel a rush of joy at the word.

“I suppose she should,” I say, a smile breaking across my face.

“It’s settled then. Come, let’s take a shower.”

I wait patiently by the glass door of the oversized shower while Christian turns on the water. It’s nearly two thirty in the morning and I’m fighting to stay awake. Hopefully, the shower with help with that.

When the water is hot, Christian takes two huge, fluffy towels from the shelf by the sink and hooks them through the bar on the shower. I step in before him and once he closes the door behind us, he envelops me in his arms, holding me close to him, and looking down at me in an adoring way no one has before. The water is a little hotter than I prefer, but the comfort of his arms overrides the discomfort of the heat and I don’t care. The water cascades over us, drenching my hair and ruining all of Kate’s hard work.

“How do you feel?” Christian asks, pulling gently on my chin so that I look up at him.

“Wonderful,” I tell him, actually now appreciating the hot water as I become accustomed to it and it begins to make my muscles relax.

“Are you sore at all?” He asks.

“A little,” I admit.

“Turn around.”

I do as he says and when I’m facing forward in the torrent of warm water he begins to massage my neck and shoulders. I moan approvingly, letting the water pour over my face. It’s a very relaxing sensation. After a few moments, he pulls me into him so my back his flush against his naked chest and he wraps his arms around me, cupping my breasts and kissing my neck.

“What are you doing to me, Anastasia?” He whispers. “I can’t seem to get my fill of you. Even after everything tonight, I could take you again, right here, right now.”

“I can’t get enough of you either,” I tell him. I bring my hands up and lay them over his, encouraging the movement of his hands on my breasts. “Do it, Christian. Take me again.”

“You’re sore, Anastasia, and I don’t have any condoms.” He says in a low voice. “Speaking of which, you’ll need to sort some birth control out as soon as possible. I hate wearing those fucking things.”

“What if I hate taking pills?” I say defensively.

“Then get a shot.”

I slip out of his grip, turning around to voice my indignation but as I do, he snorts, trying to subdue laughter.

“What?” I ask.

“Your mascara is running. It’s all over your face.”

I slap him playfully on the shoulder and tilt my head back so that my face is once again beneath the water. Carefully, I run my hands over my eyes and cheeks, hoping that I’m successfully removing the black smudges I’m sure make me look like a raccoon. After several seconds of this, I tilt my face back up to Christian, who wipes the last bit away with his thumb and smiles.

“There you are,” He says.

“You don’t like the make-up?” I ask.

“Not particularly. It hides how beautiful you really are and it gets all over everything. What would I say to my other girlfriend’s when I came back with lipstick on my collar?”

“You would tell them that at least you’re screwing someone who looked good,” I reply sarcastically.

“You do look good, just like this. You’re beautiful, Anastasia. I’m in awe of you.”

He leans down and kisses me, his tongue performing an erotic dance with mine. His hands move, first into my hair to hold me still as he deepens the kiss, and then slowly down over my neck, my breasts, my stomach, and then between my legs.

I whimper as his fingers begin to slowly circle my clitoris, the increasingly familiar sensation of heat beginning to rise deep within me after a few moments. He continues his ministrations until I feel my legs begin to weaken and my breathing comes faster and harsher. He gently eases a finger inside of me and I hiss slightly as the soreness is exacerbated. He freezes.

“Too much?” He asks.

“No, it’s fine. It’s just a little sore. Be gentle.”

“Like this?” He asks as his finger slides fully into me and begins to caress the front wall of my vagina. There is a new intenseness to this sensation and I gasp, clinging to him to stay steady on my feet.

“That’s it baby, feel this,” He says. His thumb begins work on my clitoris and after a few moments, he inserts another finger inside of me.

“Christian!” I moan as I begin to build higher and higher towards an orgasm.

“I love hearing you call my name, Ana,” He says, the careful movements of his fingers concentrating on my most sensitive spots. I squirm, feeling overwhelmed by the sensations but he doesn’t stop. The friction is mind boggling and it isn’t long before I feel my muscles clench and I fall off the edge, melting into him as I’m overpowered by my orgasm. His fingers continue to work until I come down from the high and when it’s ended, he slowly withdraws them from me and takes them into his mouth, moaning appreciatively. It’s extremely erotic.

“I love watching you come, Ana,” He says, leaning down to kiss me.

“Hmm,” I hum, too exhausted to say anything more. He’s now fully supporting me in his arms as I desperately fight off sleep.

“Let’s get you washed and into bed,” He says. “You look exhausted.”

He pours some shampoo in his hand, working it through my hair as I drift in and out. When he’s finished, he wraps me in a towel and dries my hair while I sit on the seat before the vanity, and then carries me to the bed. By the time he sets me down, I’m completely out.

I’m woken a few hours later by the harsh buzzing sound of my phone in my clutch sitting on the desk across the room. It takes me a few minutes to orient myself as the oblivion of a deep, restful sleep slips away from me. I’m very warm and I realize it’s because Christian is wrapped around me. Memories from the previous night wash over me and I flush.

I said yes to Christian.

He called himself my boyfriend.

I’m not a virgin anymore.

I bite down on my lip as a feeling of overwhelming happiness rushes through me. Last night was perfect. Christian has surpassed all of my hopes and wishes for what I wanted my first time to be like. I recall my very first orgasm, so intense as it ricocheted through me, pulling me down deep into an abyss where the only things that existed were pleasure, sensation, and Christian.

I’m pulled out of my reverie as my phone rings again. Sighing, I pull back the covers, carefully untangling myself from Christian so that I don’t wake him. When I stand, I immediately feel the effects last night had on my body. I’m extremely sore, almost to the point of painful. I wince as I walk to my phone, wondering how long the soreness between my legs will last, but also finding I’m pleased by the physical reminder of my night with Christian.

I dig in my bag and pull out my phone, answering it just in time.

“Hi Kate,” I whisper, conscious of the fact that Christian is asleep behind me.

“Good morning,” She says in a overly satisfied tone. I can almost picture the smug smile on her face. She knows what happened between Christian and I last night.

“Good morning,” I reply, trying as best I can for nonchalance.

“Elliot and I are going to breakfast, would you and Christian like to join us?”

“What time is it?” I ask, hoping my words are distinguishable as I yawn.

“You sound tired,” Kate says. “Did you have a late night last night?”

I roll my eyes at the phone, knowing she’s enjoying this. I think my virginity has been a bigger deal to Kate than it has to been to me.

“As a matter of fact I did,” I tell her. “Christian’s still asleep. Let me call you back in a few minutes to see what he wants to do.”

“Sounds good. Let him know that we understand if he’s too tired to come out with us. He must be exhausted.”

“Goodbye, Kate,” I say flatly.

“Goodbye, Ana.”

I hang up, shaking my head as I put the phone down on the desk. My fingers brush over the polished wood surface and I feel my cheeks heat as images from my time on this desk last night run through my mind.

“Pleasant memories?” Christian asks behind me and I whirl around to see him smiling at me with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Very pleasant,” I say, leaning back against the desk and drinking in the sight of him sitting in before me. I know he’s naked beneath the blanket and now, it doesn’t take much to imagine what is just hidden from my view.

“You look mighty fine this morning, Anastasia,” He says, glancing over my naked body. “Why don’t you come over here and I’ll see if I can leave you with more pleasant memories to carry with you throughout the day.”

I frown as the soreness I feel in the most sensitive parts of me body flames to the front of my mind.

“What’s wrong?” Christian asks, noticing the change in my expression.

“I think I’m a little… overused at the moment. I’m not sure how susceptible I can be to your salacious actions.”

He grins. “Feeling a little sore this morning?”

“I think the word ‘little’ falls short of what I’m currently experiencing.”

He gets up from the bed, crossing the room and wrapping his arms around me. I tilt my head up and kiss him and he reaches down and lifts me, carrying me back to the bed with him.

The heat between us intensifies as the kiss becomes a passionate expression of our need for one another. His lips are urgent, his hands insistent, and when we finally do have to break away from one another, his eyes are blazing with unrestrained lust.

“Can I try something?” I ask hesitantly.

“What?” He replies.

Slowly, I wiggle out from under him and sit up on the bed, wincing slightly with each movement.

“Lay down,” I tell him, and he looks at me questioningly, but does as I ask. I lean over to kiss him once and then slowly crawl down the bed. As I move, he props himself up on his elbows and looks down at me with creased eyebrows until I reach out and grasp him firmly at the base of his erection.

I take a moment to stroke my hand up and down his length, appreciating and marveling at him. I don’t apply much pressure as I gently run my fingers over the skin which feels silky smooth despite the slightly ribbed texture of the veins beneath the skin. As my hand moves, he groans and collapses back onto the bed. I bite my lip as I look up at him, his eyes closed and his mouth open as he is revels in the sensation. His hips buck up into my hand and I feel overly pleased with myself, knowing what I’m doing to him. My hand slides up to the head of his erection and I circle my thumb over the tip where I find a bead of dew, which I gently spread around with the pad of my thumb. In a moment of bravery, I lean over and kiss the tip of his erection and he groans, again elevating his hips upwards to urge me on.

I look down at him, hesitating for only a moment before I take him into my mouth, slowly enveloping him until I can’t manage anymore.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” He hisses in a labored whisper, his head rolling farther back in ecstasy. I ease him out of my my mouth, carefully shielding him from my teeth with my lips as, finally, he looks down at me. I can see the passion blazing in his fiery gaze as I move my mouth up and down his length.

“Harder, baby,” He presses me, and I tighten my lips around him, sucking harder as I take him back into my mouth.

“That’s it,” He groans. “Oh god, Ana!”

His euphoria in his voice urges me on and I begin to experiment with my hands and swirling my tongue over the tip of his erection.

“That feels so good, baby,” He says in a low carnal voice. I push him deeper into my mouth feeling him in the back of my throat. He groans as he feels my moan of pleasure vibrating through him. I move my mouth up and down his length, varying the pressure and speed. I can feel myself getting wet as the muscles deep inside of me clench with delight. I’m aroused by how powerful giving him this pleasure makes me feel. He writhes beneath me, flexing his hips up to meet me each time my mouth slides down his erection and after a few moments, I begin to feel a sense of urgency in his thrusts.

“I’m going to come, Ana,” He warns me breathlessly. “If you don’t want me to come in your mouth, stop now.”

The memory of him holding me in the shower, continually working his fingers in an out of me as my orgasm powered through me flashes across my mind. The intensity in that moment went on and on as he refused to let me come down from the ecstasy. I tighten my lips around him, wanting desperately to do for him what he has done for me.

“Ana!” He groans as his eyes roll back and he thrusts himself deeper into my mouth one last time. I feel the warm, bitter liquid drip into my throat and I quickly swallow it down. It’s… not pleasant, but the look of elation on his face wipes away my uncertainty. I sit back and stare at him expectantly, waiting for him to recover as lies there panting with his eyes closed. When he comes down, he rolls his head to the side and looks at me proudly.

“I didn’t expect that,” He says. “That was… incredible.”

“Good,” I say in a small, pleased tone. His brow furrows as he stares at me, unsure for a moment.

“Have you done that before?” He asks, he looks worried.

“No, some of us are just born talented,” I tease him, and he laughs.

“Good. I like being the first with you, Ana,” I smile and lay down next to him, letting him envelope me in his arms.

“Kate called me earlier,” I tell him. “She and Elliot are going to go get breakfast and they want us to meet them.”

“You don’t want reciprocation?” He asks.

“You can owe me,” I reply with a smile, and his eyes glint salaciously.

“That’s a debt I’ll happily take on, Miss Steele.”

We each take a quick shower, separately so we don’t become distracted again. While Christian is in the shower, I send a text to Kate asking where she wants to meet and she tells me that they’re on their way to Cafe Bellagio.

Twenty minutes later, we are led to the table where Elliot and Kate are sitting. They both give us ridiculous, knowing smiles, especially when I sit at a pace so slow, the soreness I’m feeling is blatantly obvious. Christian and I each take a menu from the waitress, doing our best to ignore the giddy energy beaming at us from across the table, but the moment the waitress departs, Kate stands and announces she needs to use the restroom. I glance up at her and she gives me a hard look that I know means she wants me to go with her. I raise an eyebrow at her but she gives up on any sense of social nicety and grabs me by the arm, dragging me away from the table with her.

“Tell me everything,” She says when the bathroom door closes behind us. I stare blankly back into her expectant expression.

“Don’t you have to use the restroom?” I ask sweetly, but she rolls her eyes and puts her hands on her hips to let me know she will not be diverted. I sigh.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t give me that crap, Anastasia Steele. You can’t hide that glow from me. You and Christian had sex last night, fess up.”

“Fine,” I say, having trouble hiding the ridiculous smile that crosses my face. I hope the even tone I try to use makes up for the blush that colors my cheeks. “Christian and I had sex last night.”

“Ahhh!” She squeals, reaching forward and pulling me into a hug. She holds me out at arm’s length and begins to bombard me with questions. “Was he gentle? Was it good or did it feel awkward? How many times did you do it? You were safe right, I mean, I know you’re not on the pill? Did he make you come?”

“Kate!” I exclaim indignantly, though it’s hard to pull off as I can’t stop smiling.

“Did he?” She asks again.

“Did he what?”

“Did he make you come?”

I take a deep breath as I decide that fighting her questions isn’t going to work.

“Yes,” I finally acquiesce and she smiles broadly.

“Way to go, Christian. Elliot must be lying. There’s no way he’s a virgin and could get you off on his first time. Sounds like he knows what he’s doing.”

I shrug, trying to fight the images of Christian and the Bitch Troll that immediately spring into my mind. They’re much harder to take now that I know Christian intimately.

“You’re okay, though?” Kate asks, the giddy exaltation fading away for a look of true concern from my best friend.

“I’m good, Kate. I’m really good.”

“So is this like a ‘what happens in Vegas’ thing?”

“I don’t think so. He seems pretty serious… he asked me to go to Aspen with his family next week.”

“What?” Kate exclaims. “Elliot didn’t ask me to go.”

“My boyfriend likes me more than yours does,” I tease. She glares at me and grabs my arm, dragging me back out to the table. When we get back into the dining room, Elliot looks simply radiant with happiness. Christian looks annoyed.

I take my place next to Christian and look curiously down at the cup of hot water in front of me, a bag of English Twinings Breakfast Tea laid neatly on the saucer. It’s my favorite tea, and I have to think back through months of memories to remember when I have ever ordered it in front of him. It was October, when Christian took me out of town for breakfast and told me he was sleeping with Mrs. Robinson. It’s hard for me to recall anything from that day besides that awful realization, and of course the life-altering kiss in the back alley. How does he remember the tea that I ordered? As I lift the dry tea bag and dunk it into the saucer, I add another personality trait to my list. Christian Grey remembers everything. Perhaps I should keep that in mind if we’re going to be dating.

“Thank-you,” I tell him, and he reaches for my free hand under the table and entangles his fingers with mine.

“So Elliot, what are you doing next week?” Kate asks innocently, although I know exactly what she’s doing.

“I don’t know,” Elliot says. He picks up his cup of coffee and drains it.

“We’re going to Aspen next week,” Christian reminds him.

“Oh, yeah,” Elliot says, genuine recognition crossing his face. He turns to Kate. “We’re going to Aspen.”

“I see,” Kate says, trying to hold his gaze expectantly, but he’s distracted by the waitress. I look down at the menu as Elliot recites what he wants. I’m starving this morning. Apparently my nocturnal activities have worked up quite the appetite. Unable to decide what I want, I ask the waitress to bring me the same omelette and toast Christian ordered. The waitress collects our menus and when she disappears, Kate starts talking about how much she loves Aspen, though Elliot doesn’t seem to get the hint.

Christian and Elliot don’t leave vegas until two, so after breakfast we make plans for the afternoon, which involve lunch with my mom. Elliot suggests that we all head up to the room upstairs so he and Christian can pack and then we can hit some stores before heading over to my house. I didn’t know anyone could be as excited to buy things as Kate, but Elliot seems to give her a run for her money. Christian excuses himself from the table and heads upstairs before the rest of us, I assume to hide the evidence of our sexcapades.

My assumption is proven right when we get to Christian’s room and it’s completely spotless, almost as if maid service has already been through, but since it’s only 07:45 in the morning, I know that probably isn’t the case. Christian is sitting on one of the couches we made love on last night, staring at the business news ticker at the bottom of the screen while some CNN anchor talks about Cyprus and Malta adopting the Euro. Elliot looks around at the tidy space and then down at the bed which is neatly made. He smirks and turns to me.

“So Ana, was it the worst sex of your life or just completely mediocre?”

My face flushes and out of the corner of my eye, I see Christian’s head turn towards Elliot so he can glare at him. Well, clearly both Kate and Elliot know… is there any point in trying to deny anything now?

“It was extraordinary if you need to know, Elliot,” I say. He snorts.

“You just must not have had enough experience to know better,” He says pointedly, though he’s talking to Christian more than me.

“I don’t know… Kate’s told me enough about you that I think I could recognize mediocrity,” I say. Kate and Christian laugh and to my relief, Elliot’s face breaks into a wide smile.

“Sick burn,” He says, “I gotta keep my eye on you, Steele.”

Christian finished packing while he was alone up here and since Elliot didn’t actually stay here last night, he simply takes a quick shower, changes his clothes, and puts the few things he did remove back in his bag before we head out. Christian holds my hand, wheeling a carry on size suitcase behind him with his free hand as he leads us all out to the parking garage. He and Elliot have rented a car, an expensive looking car, which they both look at with a lust that harkens me back to last night. It’s matte black with a winged B embedded into the front of the hood. I stare down at the impressive car with awe and trepidation as it once again reminds me of the income gap between Christian and I.

I think about the beautiful house the Greys own and all of the luxury they lavished on me when I stayed there this past Thanksgiving break. Today, I’ll be bringing Christian back to my small, late ’60s era house that is approximately 1/8th the square footage of the Grey home and where my mom will probably serve coffee in collector mickey mouse mugs that we got on our last trip to Disneyland. I worry how Christian will react when he sees first hand the differences between us when it comes to income. Maybe when he steps into the living room of my mother’s house, which is half the size of his entrance hall alone, he will see what his father sees. That it might just be too convenient that a girl from lower middle class Montesano has cozied her way into one of the elite families of the greater Seattle area…

“Give me the keys, Christian,” Elliot says as he closes the trunk now tightly packed with luggage.

“Good one, Elliot,” Christian laughs as he walks around to the driver’s side.

“Um, I’m the big brother. You have to listen to me when our parents aren’t around.”

“I’m an adult, I don’t have to listen to shit,” Christian says. Elliot rolls his eyes but climbs into the back seat with Kate. We take a tour down the strip, stopping at Thomas Pink, Paul Smith, and Tom Ford along the way. Kate drags the boys into a store called Scotch & Soda in Fashion Show Mall and lets loose.

I stand at the entrance next to Christian, who is texting with Ros on his Blackberry, while Kate rushes around the store like a mad woman.

“You’re not shopping?” He asks when he tucks his phone away in his pocket.

“Shopping isn’t really my thing,” I tell him, leaving out the fact that the closest shirt can see is $75.

“What about this?” He asks, reaching to his left and pulling out a simple, royal blue button down blouse that looks as though it is made of silk. “You look lovely in blue, Anastasia.”

“It’s pretty,” I shrug. He frowns and places the hanger back on the stand. He walks into the store, and says something to Kate that I can’t hear. She nods and he turns back to me.

“Kate and Elliot will meet us at the car when they’re finished. I need to get a coffee, will you come with me?”

“Sure,” I say, and he takes my hand and leads me through the mall to a Starbucks where her orders a latte for himself and an iced green tea for me. Once we have our drinks, we walk back to the car, hand in hand.

“Is that a Latte?” Elliot asks when we meet them in the parking garage, staring at the cup in Christian’s hand dubiously.

“Yes,” Christian replies, opening the front passenger door to the car for me.

“Real men drink black coffee,” Elliot says pointedly.

“Real men do whatever the fuck they want,” Christian says, and Elliot smiles. Both he and Christian climb into the car and my anxiety mounts as Christian asks which direction he should go to get to my house where my mother is waiting with her souvenir mugs.

Next Chapter

 

I grip tightly to Christian’s arm as he leads me through the casino after Kate and Elliot, thinking all the way of the questions I have for him. I wish he would walk slower so we could fall farther behind Kate and Elliot, not that we’d have much privacy with the sea of people milling about the casino around us. It’s getting so crowded we have a difficult time walking through the narrow hallways and I know it’s because everyone is coming out for the holiday. We head towards the front entrance of the hotel and Elliot tries to turn left towards the sky bridge that leads to the boulevard but Kate yanks him right to the line waiting for cabs.

“Aw, come on, babe. It’s barely a mile walk down to the Wynn and there’s a lot going on on the strip tonight,” Elliot complains.

“Then look at it out the window,” Kate says. “I’m wearing six inch heels, I’m not walking.”

Begrudgingly, Elliot allows himself to be pulled out the doors by Kate and Christian and I follow. My mood as we get in the long line of people waiting for cabs reflects Elliot’s. I would have liked to walk too, despite my heels. It’s going to be impossible to speak to Christian in the confines of a taxi and I’m desperate to find out what’s been going on since we spoke last.

We walk into the Wynn beneath a canopy of trees decorated in strings of white lights and giant red and silver balls. The opulence around us is staggering and I recall a vague memory of my grandfather saying once that the world would look like the Wynn if God had more money. Even in the buffet, we are served glasses of champagne with our dinner, surprisingly without being ID’d. I wonder if Elliot knows someone here too or if it’s assumed that anyone out on the Strip on New Year’s Eve is probably over 21. Maybe it’s just the air of importance Christian gives off, or possibly the ridiculously large tip Elliot hands the waiter who brings us each glass.

The food is endless, delicious, and overly decadent. Kate and I share a slice of rich chocolate cheesecake while Christian and Elliot book us tickets to the Cirque du Soleil show “O” on their cell phones for after dinner. Elliot promises us it’s the best show on the strip and describes the water acrobatics the entire way back to the Bellagio.

By the time the show is over, it’s 10:30 and Kate is ready for the club. She’s giddy as she and Elliot lead the way across the street from the Bellagio to the Paris. I still haven’t gotten a single moment alone with Christian to talk and I’m slightly frustrated, though the feeling is immediately diminished by the awe I feel staring up at the Eiffel Tower standing over the entrance of the resort.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He asks, looking down at me with a pleased expression on his face and intertwining his fingers with mine. “The real one is immeasurably more magnificent.”

“I’d love to see it,” I say softly, and he smiles.

“Perhaps I’ll take you there.”

I bite down on my bottom lip as my lips curve into a smile at the thought of spending time with Christian in Paris, having coffee (or tea) in a quaint cafe, exploring the magnificence of the Louvre, an evening stroll along the banks of the Seine, and a candlelit dinner below the Eiffel Tower glowing brightly beneath moonlit sky. The look he gives me intensifies into something dark and hot as he notices my reaction to his words, and he grips my hand more tightly, pulling me forward into through the main doors.

To the left of the main entrance, there is a flight of stairs that leads to the nightclub, Chateau. As we climb to the second floor, Elliot whispers something in Kate’s ear and she nods, lets go of his hand, and falls back to wrap her arm in Christian’s.

“What are you doing?” Christian asks, his brow creasing with displeasure as he turns to look at her.

“You aren’t 21, stupid,” Kate says. “Elliot thinks they’ll probably be less likely to check your ID if you’re with a group of hot girls.”

Christian rolls his eyes, but doesn’t shrug Kate off. When we get to the door, Elliot rushes forward and raises both hands in the air to high five the doorman.

“Elliot, my man! Where the fuck have you been?” The bouncer asks.

“I spend all my time flying to Massachusetts to see this asshole.” Elliot says, gesturing back to Christian with a nod of his head.

“Oh, that’s right.” The bouncer says. “I heard your baby bro went Ivy. Hey Christian, how the hell are you?”

“Well,” Christian says shortly. “How are you Carmichael?”

“Whoa, man. Cool it on the Carmichael shit. It’s Big Mike here. This ain’t the ‘burbs of Bellevue.”

Christian raises an eyebrow in amused incredulity, but doesn’t say anything more.

“And what’s your name, sweetheart?” Big Mike says to Kate, eyeing her up and down with a look of satisfaction. Kate smirks at his reaction.

“My name is Kate, I’m Elliot’s girlfriend,” She says.

“Damn son, did you bring a sexy lady like this up here to break my heart? Or… did you do me solid and bring me a hot brunette?” He asks, nodding to me with a knowing smile. Christian wraps his hand around my waist in an obviously possessive manner and pulls me closer to him. I glance over at him, noticing he’s glaring at Big Mike. His eyes are a dangerous, cold, gray steel.

“We cool to go inside, bro?” Elliot asks, turning back to his friend.

“Sure, have a good night. Take some shots for me,” Big Mike says, stamping the back of Elliot’s hand and waving him in. He stamps both Kate’s and my hand, but as we walk forward, Mike reaches out and stops Christian.

“Aren’t you like, 19 or something?” He asks, narrowing his eyes. Christian stares back at him, keeping his cool composure but clearly at a loss for what to say. Fuck maybe we aren’t getting in. Or maybe Christian and I could go somewhere else and talk? Mike eyes him up and down for a moment but his face breaks into a joking smile as he stamps the back of Christian’s hand.

“I’m just kidding, bro. Get the fuck in there and have a good time. Happy New Year’s.”

Christian nods and takes my hand as we walk into the hypnotic lights of Chateau. The music is extremely loud inside, too loud, and I’m glad when Elliot leads us out to the terrace where he buys a table and bottle service for the night. It’s a little chilly out here but after a few drinks and some time on the dance floor with Kate, I feel just fine.

The music is a mix of dance and techno beats, both fun and easy to move to. I have to dance without moving my feet as the dangerously high heels mixed with the three cocktails I’ve had don’t seem to be doing good things for my balance. There are several occasions where I have to reach out and grab Kate for balance and she laughs and pulls me into her to help keep me steady. I glance over to see Christian watching us, staring at me appreciatively as Kate and I dance pressed together on the floor. Elliot takes a long, draining drink from his glass, sets it down, and moves towards us.

“Mind if I cut in?” He asks me, wagging his eyebrows like a vaudeville villain. I’m wondering if he’s trying to make some kind of innuendo.

“Not at all,” I tell him, gesturing to Kate, who’s still dancing, seemingly entranced by the music. I turn from them, weaving through the crowd of people, and plop down next to Christian at the table, feeling immediate relief from the pain my shoes are causing me. He hands me a double old-fashioned glass filled with ice, Grey Goose, and a splash of lime juice, and as I take it, he moves in close to me.

“Your dress is very short,” He says, his voice torn between disapproval and pleasure. He gently runs his index finger up my thigh, tugging at the hem of my dress as he reaches it.

“Kate picked it out,” I tell him, feeling slightly out of breath, and I’m not sure if it’s the dancing or the fact that he’s so close I can feel his heat next to me.

“Your shoes, too? I was worried you might fall while you were dancing they’re so high. You would have given everyone here quite the show.”

“Is there anything you like about what I’m wearing?” I ask.

“Your earrings are lovely,” He says, reaching out to caress the diamond dangling from them.

“I was going to give them back,” I admit quietly. “Kate convinced me to wear them tonight.”

“I’m glad she did,” He says. “Why would you want to give them back? You look beautiful in them.”

“You were very over-generous,” I tell him. “I shouldn’t accept such expensive gifts from you. Not when I have nothing to give you in return.”

“There is something you can give me.”

“What?”

“Your answer,” He says in a low voice, and I watch his eyes as they bare into mine with expectation.

“Why haven’t you answered my calls or the texts I’ve sent you?” I ask, needing my questions answered before I can answer his.

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“I’ve called you. Several times.”

“I’m sorry, Anastasia, I had no idea. I changed my number when I got home for break so I haven’t gotten any of your calls.”

“Why?”

“So certain…people wouldn’t have my number anymore.”

“People? Like, Mrs. Robinson?”

“For instance,” He says simply.

“So why didn’t you give me your new number?” I ask.

“You told me you wanted time to think without any interference from me. No contact. I thought I was giving you what you wanted.”

“I was worried you were mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know… because I didn’t have an answer for you before you left. Kate said you’ve been moody since you got back.”

“Yes, well, there have been some problems that I have been unable to resolve over the last few weeks.”

“Such as?”

“Do you remember what I told you about Ros and I?” He asks.

“That you’re starting a company together?”

“Yes. We got several investment deals back in mid-October that were going to allow us to leave Harvard and start up our company by June. After Thanksgiving, we lost one major contributor and one by one, the other investors started to pull out. I went home to Seattle early to try and salvage what I could, but in this economic climate, people aren’t willing to take a chance on a couple of college students with big ideas and no experience.”

“So… what does that mean?” I ask.

“It means that I’m going to be at Harvard for a while,” He says. “Both Ros and I have enough in our trust funds to start up, but unfortunately, both of our parents are adamant that we will not get access to those funds until we have college degrees.”

“So, what if you don’t graduate?”

“Then my parent’s foundation will become several million dollars richer.”

“That’s harsh.”

“That’s Grace Trevelyan-Grey,” He says.

“But you’d need to stay at Harvard anyway, wouldn’t you? I mean, even if the investment deal had gone through, if you left Harvard, you wouldn’t get your inheritance.”

“What’s a few million dollars compared to a multi-billion dollar empire?”

“You’re that sure of yourself?”

“Unequivocally.”

“So… you’ve been in business meetings all week?”

“Some of the time.”

“What about the other times? Kate said you’ve been out with a friend.”

“Did you think I was out with another girl?”

“Well… sort of.”

“You thought it was Elena?” He corrects himself, and I nod.

“I’ve told you before, Ana. I’m through with her. Unfortunately, she doesn’t seem to accept that so she’s been sitting at my house waiting to corner me since I’ve come home. I find the easiest way to deal with it is by staying away as much as possible.”

“You won’t be able to avoid her forever, Christian.”

“I know. Eventually, she’ll have a new Sub and we’ll move past this. It shouldn’t take long. Elena isn’t a patient woman.”

“So that’s it then? Nothing’s changed since we last spoke?”

“Nothing’s changed, in regards to the way I feel about you anyway,” He says and I nod my head and reaffirm myself as I know I’m about to say the thing that will change everything.

“Then I have my answer,” I begin. “Yes.”

“Yes?” He whispers as if he didn’t hear me correctly.

“Yes,” I repeat.

He stares at me, unbelieving for a moment and then I see a look of triumph cross his face before he grabs me and brings me to him, so forcefully I fear that my lips will bruise as they crash against his. I kiss him back with equal fervor, feeling so much more in this kiss than any that we’ve shared before because now it’s real. It’s more, so much more, and yet still not enough.

“Get a room,” I hear Elliot say and as he sits down across from us a pours a drink for himself and Kate. Christian breaks the kiss and glares at his brother, before turning back to me, desire burning in his eyes. Kate glances between us with a smug smile that Christian ignores.

“Come back to the room with me,” He says quietly, turning back to me. I nod. Quickly, he stands and takes my hand to help me to my feet.

“Where are you going?” Elliot asks, handing the drink to Kate.

“Back to the room,” Christian says.

“But you’ll miss the fireworks!” Kate protests. I turn to wave back at her, hopefully reassuring her since Christian is already dragging me away from the table. I struggle to keep up with him in my shoes but I don’t want him to slow down. Excitement, trepidation, elation, worry… so many things rush through me as we cross the street to the Bellagio.

This is it. I know what’s about to happen. I’m about to have sex for the first time. I bite my lip as I try and remember everything I’ve ever been told about sex and everything I’ve read or seen in movies. Will I be terrible at this? Oh god, what if I’m awful? What if he doesn’t like it? What if this ends up being the most humiliating experience of my life? What if Mrs. Robinson is right…?

We rush through the casino of the Bellagio to the elevators. The doors open and a group of people flood out, excited to start their evening in Sin City. Christian leads me in and when the doors close, he pushes me against the wall, capturing my wrists and holding my hands above my head as he consumes me. His lips are unrelenting as he kisses me, and while we’re suspended in this moment of passion, my worries lift and I’m lost in him. I feel him press his erection into me and I groan, desperate for more contact. He grasps my wrists with one hand, holding them in place while the other gently brushes down my side, around to my behind, and up my thigh. He pulls on my leg, hitching it around his waist, and presses himself further into me, grinding his erection against me. I struggle against his grip on my hands, wanting so much to touch him, to investigate his body the way he does mine, but his grasp is unyielding.

A high ping, interrupts his ardor and he releases me just as the doors slide open. Again, he grasps my hand, and he leads me from the elevator and down the hall. I wait impatiently as he pulls out a key card from his wallet, opens the door, and reaches back to pull me into the room with him.

“Do you have any idea how much I want you, Anastasia?” He asks when the door closes behind him. His words are muffled as his lips take mine again.

“No,” I whisper, unable to fathom his feelings as I’m currently so lost in my own.

“Let me show you,” He says, and he leads me into the room to the bed.

I gasp as we pass the small living room suite into the bedroom. The east wall is made entirely of glass and there is an incredible view of the strip below, glowing with activity. I see the fountains of the Bellagio dancing below us, creating a mist of sparkles in the light from the hotel. The music from the fountain show is muffled, but still distinguishable, and as I stare down at the view, speechless, I feel one of Christian’s arms snake around my waist from behind.

“Let’s get you out of this dress,” He whispers in my ear. I feel his fingers slide up to my zipper as his lips brush against my neck in a line of sweet, soft, arousing kisses.

This is it. Am I ready for this?

“Wait!” I cry as I feel him begin to tug at the zipper. I maneuver out of his arms in sudden panic and turn to face him, apprehension most certainly etched in my expression. In my distraction with the view, he’s removed his jacket, button down, socks, and shoes. He’s standing before me, looking delectable in only his black slacks and a tight gray t-shirt. Yes, I want him… but I need this to slow down.

“What is it?” Christian asks, staring at me confused.

“Well… it’s just that, um…”

“You don’t want to fuck?” He asks, and I see a version of concern different from mine cross his face.

“No, it’s not that. I just, well…. Okay, um, Christian, before we… um, before we make love, I think you need to know something,” I stutter. I feel my cheeks redden as I struggle to get the words out, wondering in this moment how hard it actually is to get into Harvard’s English department if I could do it and I’m standing here bumbling like an idiot.

“What?” Christian asks, the concern turning into alarm. I know he’s misreading my queues, I need to get over the anxiety and explain. Right now, he probably thinks I’m about to tell him I have herpes or something.

Breathe, Steele, breathe.

“Okay, I, uh… I haven’t done this before.”

“Done what? This hardly counts as having sex on the first date, Ana, if that’s what you’re worried about. We’ve known each other for months, and have had several dates if that’s what you wanted to call them.”

“No, I haven’t done any of this before. Sex, I mean.”

“You’ve never had sex?” He asks as if I’ve said something in a language he doesn’t understand.

“No,” I say. He looks at me, confused for a moment, and then his face softens and his eyes enlarge with shock as he realizes what I’m saying.

“You’re a virgin?” He asks, his voice suddenly weak. I nod.

We stare at each other for a moment, the awkward silence lying between us like a thick blanket of snow.

“How?” He asks at last, his voice merely a breath.

“What do you mean?”

“How? How have you avoided sex? You’re beautiful! You’re everything. I’ve been dying to have you since I first laid eyes on you that day you asked me about the stupid name tag. How has someone never taken you to bed before?”

“I’ve just never met someone I wanted. Not until you.”

“But you’ve done other things?”

“Not really.”

His hands rush up into his hair as he considers what I’ve just told him. I watch him pace a few times, wondering what he’s warring over.

“Christian?” I ask hesitantly and he stops pacing.

“I don’t…” He begins, but changes tactic halfway through his thought process. “What do you want to do, Anastasia?”

“I, uh…” I stammer. My cheeks flush as I want to say that I want him to take me, here, now, but I’m too embarrassed to articulate the words.

“Do you want to do this?” He asks, seeing my hesitation.

“Yes,” I whisper. “I just wanted you to know, before…”

He crosses the room in two quick strides, cutting my words off with his lips. His kiss is more gentle this time, though still fervent. I feel his hand greedily move up to the zipper on my dress. He pulls it down slowly and then brings his hand up to the one shoulder covered by my dress, brushing his fingertips over my skin and peeling the dress away from me as his hand travels down my body. Once he’s past my hips, the dress falls into a pool at my feet. I’m naked except for my panties and I wonder if I should feel embarrassed, but I don’t. I want to be as close to Christian as possible, to feel his skin pressed against mine. If only he would take off his shirt.

I feel him lift me from the ground and I wrap my legs around his waist, allowing him to carry me to the bed. Gently, he sets me down and I’m enveloped in the luxurious pillows and bedding but I hardly have time to register the feeling of the silky sheets beneath me as he crawls over the top of me, taking my mouth once again. His tongue brushes gently across my bottom lip and I open my mouth, kissing him deeper, and relishing in him. His hands find my arms and he pulls them up over my head, pushing my wrists down into the pillow, silently telling me to keep them there. When he releases me, his hand rests gently on my forearm, waiting as he judges whether or not I’m going to move my hands. While he continues to kiss me, I remember him taking me home from that party where I got too drunk all those months ago. I wanted to reach out and touch his chest but he stopped me.

I don’t like to be touched.

His words echo in my head. If I can’t touch him, how can I…?

I can’t finish the thought as I think he’s decided I won’t move my hands and his fingers begin to brush down my arm and his lips leave mine and begin to journey south. I feel him gently kiss my chin, my neck, my collarbone… Every touch of his lips feels like a shock of electricity and I begin to grind my hips into the bed with anticipation.

“Don’t move, baby,” He says, moving his hands to rest on my hips and hold me down. I’m pinned beneath him, helpless. All I can do is experience the sensation of his touch. I feel the muscles deep within my core clench deliciously with anticipation and then, I feel his tongue begin to circle my nipple.

“Ahhh!” I cry out, feeling an overwhelming sense of pleasure. He sucks hard and, as he pulls away, his teeth graze my nipple. I’m whimpering, breathing too hard, but I can’t feel the embarrassment. I can only feel the unbridled lust that is leading me to a precipice, threatening to push me over into something beyond anything I’ve ever experienced.

While his tongue continues to encircle my nipple, his other hand reaches down and slips into my panties. He moves slowly, caressing every inch of my skin as he learns this new part of me, but once his fingers find my clitoris, the sensation I feel all over my body is suddenly heightened. I can no longer take it, I explode into a shattering orgasm that ripples through me, and because he’s on top of me, holding me down and keeping me from struggling against the overwhelming feeling of pleasure, I feel my orgasm pulse throughout my body again and again. Quickly, his mouth moves away from my breast and his lips take mine again, muffling my cries of ecstasy.

“Already, Miss Steele?” He says with a self-satisfied smile when my orgasm finally comes to an end. “You’re very responsive. I like that. I like that a lot. I can’t wait to show you what I can do to you, Anastasia.”

I look up into his fiery gaze, still panting uncontrollably from my orgasm. He sits up, and grasps my leg, deftly unbuckling the strap on my heel.

“These are unbelievably sexy, Anastasia,” He says. “But as much as I’d like to have them over my shoulder, I think we can do without them. I want to be able to move you and I don’t want you struggling with your shoes while I fuck you.”

I gasp as his words tug at my core, lighting me up again, ready for more. While he deals with the clasp on my shoe, I reach up to remove my earrings.

“Don’t,” He says. “I want you to keep those on.”

He slips the shoe from my foot and I find myself squirming again as he runs his thumb up my instep and brings his mouth to my newly uncovered foot. I feel his tongue and then his teeth on the pad of my toe and it feels wrong but so, so good. Quickly, he moves to the other foot and repeats the process.

“Christian!” I plead, desperation dripping from my tone as my need for him rises to a level I can no longer stand. I can feel an ache growing between my legs, a deep need that I know only he can satisfy.

“What do you want, Anastasia?” He asks, looking down at me, lust burning in his steel gray eyes.

“You. Please. Now,” I beg, incoherently, and he smiles down at me.

“So greedy,” He whispers. He leans over me and kisses me again. I lean into the kiss, desperate for whatever contact I can have with him, but he pulls away too soon, leaving me wanting.

“Let’s see if you’re ready,” He says and he lowers himself down my body, kissing my breasts, my stomach and each of my hip bones as he goes. I feel his fingers hook through my panties and tug them down. My legs lift into the air as he pulls them over my naked feet and I watch, stunned, as he brings them to his face and inhales.

“So sweet,” He whispers, tucking them into the pocket of his black slacks. Leaning back down, he kisses the inside of my thighs, travelling upwards, and I cry out, practically screaming with pleasure when he continues north and his lips make contact with my center. I feel his fingers touch me, easing gently into me as his tongue begins to circle my clitoris. It’s one of the most incredible things I’ve ever felt.

“Oh, Ana,” He whispers. “You are so ready.”

“Christian!” I plead again, but at this point, I don’t even know what I’m pleading for.

“I like hearing you call my name, baby,” He says. “I like hearing you beg for me.”

“Please,” I whimper again as he stands from the bed.

“I take it you’re not on the pill?” He asks.

“No,” I say, quickly, wishing in that instant that I was. Oh no, that’s not a deal breaker, is it? Shit, why didn’t I think of contraception? Well, I guess I didn’t know he would be here until a few hours ago… fuck!

“I think Elliot has some condoms in his bag,” He says, disappearing from the room. I hear a zipper, then some fumbling sounds, and finally the sound of a deadbolt falling before he re-enters the room, a blue foil packet in his hand. He throws the packet down on the bed and undoes his trousers. In one deft move, he removes his pants and his boxers, and I’m left awed and feeling slightly wary of the sight before me. It’s so… how will it…

“Don’t worry, baby,” He says as he rips open the foil packet with his teeth. “You can take it.”

I watch, mesmerized, as he rolls the condom onto his sizable erection. I want him so badly, every part of him. I bite my lip as, for a brief moment, I have the urge to lunge forward and take him in my mouth, to trace every inch of him with my tongue. He growls and pushes me back on the bed, taking my mouth again, his teeth catching my bottom lip as he pulls away from me.

“You bite your lip, often.” He says. “Do you know how erotic it is? What it does to me? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve fantasized about fucking you on the desk in Brit Lit because you were biting down on this delectable lip while you read.”

I reach forward and kiss him again, my tongue desperately exploring his mouth. He kisses me deeply, passionately, and the feel of him, pressing against my aching core is almost too much to take.

“Christian, please!” I gasp, my voice strained by my need for him.

“Do you want me, baby?” He asks.

“Yes!” I breathe.

“You’re sure you’re ready for this? You don’t want me to stop?”

“No, god no! Please, Christian!” I beg. I look up at him imploringly as he glances over at the bedside table and smiles before looking back down at me.

“By the end of this night, I will have fucked you on every surface of this hotel room,” He promises and in one, swift motion, he buries himself inside of me.

I gasp as I feel him rip through my virginity, overwhelmed by the pain and the pleasure mixed together in a confusing but wholly erotic cocktail. He gasps, and clenches his jaw as my body attempts to adjust to him.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” He hisses through clenched teeth. “Are you okay? Did that hurt?”

“I’m fine,” I whisper, tensely. It’s painful, but I don’t want to stop.

Gently he eases out of me and then thrusts forward again. I hiss through the pain but the look of absolute pleasure on his face as he continues to stroke slowly in and out of me urges me on. It takes several minutes, but eventually, I become accustomed to him inside of me and the pain evaporates, leaving only an overwhelming sense of pleasure in its absence. I begin to grind against him, meet him thrust for thrust, and he takes the cue that I’m ready and quickens his pace.

I scream, unable to hold back my cries of pleasure as he drives into me over and over again. I can feel the heat deep inside of me building as he pounds on and on, taking everything I have to give and more. He groans as I begin to writhe on him, determined to take all of him that I can manage.

“That’s it, baby. Feel me,” He growls. He leans down and kisses me hard again, pulling me into him. He’s still wearing his t-shirt and it’s the only barrier between us now. I need to be closer to him.

“Take off your shirt,” I plead, and he looks down at me, uncertain for a moment, his movement slowing.

“I won’t touch you,” I promise. “I just want to feel you against me.”

I can see him turning the decision over in his mind as he plunges into me again. I cry out once more and he growls as he reaches over to grasp the collar of his shirt and yanks the fabric over his head. I moan at the delicious contact of his skin pressing into mine as he lowers himself onto me again, resuming his relentless rhythm.

“Christian!” I moan as the quickening begins and I know I’m getting close.

“That’s it, Ana. Give it up for me,” He says. His pace quickens and I’m almost at the edge, feeling every satisfying inch of him deep within me.

“Come for me, Anastasia,” He orders, and at his words, I feel myself shatter into a million pieces as my orgasm rips through me.

“Fuck!” He yells, his fervor increasing as he pounds into me harder. There is a faint rippling sensation as I feel him come, emptying himself into me, and after his last quick thrust, he collapses on top of me.

“Jesus Fucking Christ, Ana,” He says breathlessly as he rolls over to rest beside me. I can’t speak. All I can do is breathe and focus on the blissful euphoria enveloping me.

“Are you okay?” He asks. I turn to look at him, a smile breaking across my face.

“Okay?” I ask, a short breathy laugh escaping my lips at the ridiculous question. “I’ve never been this good in my life.”

“That was pretty fucking incredible,” He says. “We’re perfect together, and now, you’re mine. In every way. Only mine.”

“Yours,” I agree.

He looks at the bedside table again and then back down at me.

“Kiss me,” He says, leaning down to press his lips tenderly against mine. I lift my head, angling it to kiss him back, and as I do, I hear the loud explosion of fireworks from outside the window.

“Happy New Year,” Christian says, and he rolls over on top of me again.

Next Chapter

 

The next morning, Kate scrambles around the room looking for things she forgot to pack. I stare at her impatiently, waiting at the door and holding tightly to the handle of my purple carry-on.

“Kate, we’re going to miss the train,” I complain.

“I’m meeting Elliot’s parents tonight,” She says. “I need to make sure I have everything I need to look perfect.”

“Psht,” I scoff. “They met me in jeans and chucks. You’re going to look flawless no matter what,” I assure her again, but my words don’t stop her from digging through her closet for a third time.

Finally, about 10 minutes later, she’s satisfied with what she’s packed and we wheel our suitcases out of our dorm, across the parking lot, and towards the train station close to campus. I feel a disquieting sense of sadness when I see Christian’s car knowing that, despite it’s presence, he isn’t here. Even Kate will see him before I do.

Kate and I wait in the cold at the train station, snowflakes slowly wafting around us. It’s weird that this break will be so long. I remember how long Thanksgiving break felt and this will be three times as long. I’m going to miss Cambridge, I’m going to miss Kate, and mostly, I’m going to miss Christian. I wanted to give him my answer in person rather than over the phone but I can’t wait for three weeks. I want him to know now.

We pull our luggage into the train crowded with commuters and Harvard students when it arrives a few minutes later. We’re packed in so tightly I can feel at least 3 people touching me as we begin the journey to Boston. The trip, though reasonably short, is extremely uncomfortable and I find myself longing for the town car I got to ride in the last time I left for break, and the man I got to ride with.

Relief washes over me when the train doors open at Logan International Airport and Kate and I are able to exit the train. We walk side by side through the crowded airport full of people trying to make it home for Christmas. I groan when, after already waiting in line for over an hour to get through security, Kate sets off the metal detector, and she’s pulled aside to be searched by the TSA with the wand. When they find nothing more than a bellybutton ring, Kate and I grab our luggage and hurry though the terminal.

When the time comes for us to separate, Kate hugs me tightly.

“I’ll miss you, Steele,” She says. “Text me everyday.”

“And call me to let me know how it goes with Grace,” I make her promise.

“I will, don’t get in too much trouble before I get to Vegas for New Years. I’ll be jealous and I don’t handle that well.”

“I won’t,” I laugh

“Love you,” She says.

“Love you too, Kate. Say hi to Christian for me.”

“I will.” She hugs me one last time and I watch her hurry off towards the flight leaving for Seattle.

When I get to my gate, I settle down in one of the seats and call my mom.

“Ana, sweetheart!” She greets me excitedly.

“Hi, Mom. I’m at the airport.”

“What time should I pick you up?”

“I land at nine,” I tell her.

“Bob and I will be there,” She assures me.

“Great, see you soon, Mom.”

“Bye-bye, honey.”

“Bye.”

I hang up the phone and since they haven’t called my section yet, I decide to call Christian. I just can’t wait any longer. The phone rings twice but goes to voicemail. I pull it away and look down at it with confusion. Did he reject my call?

“Uh, hey,” I say after I hear the beep. “I’m about to board my flight to Vegas. I was hoping to talk to you yesterday but Ros said you had already left for Seattle. So, um… I guess I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”

I hang up the phone as they call my section and hurry forward to take my seat.

The flight from Boston to my layover in Atlanta isn’t nearly as pleasant as my flight with Christian was last month. I grab a quick bite to eat at the Atlanta airport and check my phone but I have nothing from Christian. Okay, maybe I’ll text him.

Hey.

I walk back to the gate and sit nervously through the too long layover but by the time I board the plane, I still haven’t heard back from him. Is he ignoring me? Why?

Fortunately, I’m able to sleep most of the way to Vegas and as we make our descent into McCarran International Airport, I swallow my fear and lean over to look out the window at the bright lights of the Vegas strip below.

McCarran airport is loud as in addition to the general people milling around, slot machines and advertisements for shows, resorts, and exhibits blare at me. I’m grateful when I hop on the tram that takes me out of the terminal and to the waiting area.

My mom is nearly bouncing up and down with giddiness when I come down the stairs to where the baggage carousels are. She pulls me into a hug, swinging me from side to side in her excitement. When she releases me, Bob hugs me quickly and I give him an awkward hug back. I haven’t spent much time with him and even though he’s technically my stepfather, the man feels like a stranger to me.

“Are you hungry?” My mom asks, “We can have a late dinner.”

“Please,” I say as I really am starving. We’ve reached the car and Bob takes my bag and puts it into the trunk. I climb into the back seat and look at my phone. There still isn’t anything from Christian but there is a text from Kate.

Made it to Seattle. On my way to meet the Grey’s! Wish me luck!

Good Luck!

I picture her sitting next to Elliot in the Greys’ overly ornate dining room, easily chatting with them about shared experiences that come from growing up with wealth. Kate will fit in easily with the Grey family. Carrick won’t have any concerns about her intentions with Elliot. She’s the perfect match for him. Maybe that’s why Christian hasn’t texted me back or answered any of my calls. Perhaps he now sees what his father did when we were in Seattle.

Bob drives to a diner close to the house as most of the restaurants, minus the ones on the strip, are closed. I listen to my mom as she catches me up on everything she and Bob have been doing, her new business ventures, and their plans to move to Savannah. She asks me about school (still mooning over how proud she is I got into Harvard) and Ray and Kate.

“Kate is coming for New Years,” I tell her. “I don’t know what day but I think she plans to stay on the strip.”

“Oh, wonderful!” My mom says. “I have a few friends that work at a couple of the resorts down there. Let me know where you’re staying and on what days and I’ll see if I can arrange something special for you girls.”

“Great, thanks Mom!” I say.

After dinner, we make the short drive down Decatur RD to the house. I walk into the barely familiar living room and down the hall to the room my mom had put together for me when she still had hopes I’d come back after her divorce from husband number three.

The room is fairly small and the walls are painted the same tan color as the rest of the house. The wood floor is bare, but there is an antique looking dresser and a full size, white iron bed with a sky blue bed set covering it.

I unpack the few things I have, putting them in drawers and bringing my toiletries back into the bathroom in the hallway, the only bathroom in the house. I tell my mom I’m feeling tired and that I’m going to bed.

“Okay, sweetie,” She says. “It’s great having you home.”

“Love you, Mom,” I say, waving as I disappear back down the hall and into my room. When I close the door behind me, I crawl into the bed, taking my phone with me. There is a text from Kate, a picture of her and Grace in the Greys’ kitchen. They look like they’re baking cookies or something and as I try to divine the details from the picture, another picture comes through. It’s a care package filled with cookies, a few books, a Seahawks hat, a Sounders and a Mariners t-shirt, and an assortment of other homey goods and treats. On the end of the box is a card that says:

To Raymond Steele: A small thank you for your brave service and for raising such a wonderful girl who we’ve all quickly grown to love. -The Grey Family.

I feel a tear spring to my eye. Grace really is an amazing woman. What a wonderful thing to do and she hardly even knows me! I text Kate back.

I am beyond words. Thank you so much. Love you both!

I lay back and again thank whatever divine intervention made Kate my best friend. I lie there only a few minutes before my phone rings. I lunge at it, hoping it’s Christian, but it’s Kate.

“Hey, how is it at the Grey’s?” I ask when I answer.

“Great! I’m in love with Grace. You didn’t tell me how amazing this house was!”

“Unreal right? You should go try the guest bed, it’s amazing.”

“I will tonight. Grace invited me to go shopping tomorrow and we were having so much fun playing games, it seemed a shame to go home.”

I was right, Kate does fit perfectly into Christian and Elliot’s family.

“You’re staying in the guest room?” I ask suspiciously.

“Well, until Grace and Carrick go to bed,” She says slyly, and I laugh.

“What days are you coming? My mom wants to see if she can get us something special down on the strip.”

“The 30th through the 2nd, I think,” She says. “Are you okay with Planet Hollywood?”

“Yeah, just let me know how much so I can get you half when you get here.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Kate…” I protest.

“Seriously, Ana. My dad is paying for it. I’m literally out nothing.”

“You’re sure?” I hesitate.

“I’m sure. Save your money for the shopping. Those world class shops are calling my name.”

“Oh joy. You know there is a Tiffany’s in Seattle, Kate,” I remind her.

“I know,” She says. “But there is a Tiffany’s in every casino in Vegas.”

I laugh and take advantage of the break in conversation.

“How is Christian?”

“I don’t know. I’ve barely seen him. He was here for dinner but he didn’t say very much. He seems angry or upset about something. Then after dinner he just bailed. Said he had to go see a friend.”

“Oh,” I say. I wonder if he’s in a bad mood because he’s mad at me for not giving him an answer before he left or if something else happened. He has seemed particularly moody since we got back from Thanksgiving but I just assumed that was because I didn’t give him an answer.

“I’m gonna go,” Kate says. “I think Grace and Carrick have finally gone to bed.”

“Ok, have fun,” I say.

“Oh, I will,” She says suggestively.

“Good-bye, Kate,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“See you soon!” She says brightly, and I hang up the phone, tossing it onto the bed. I wonder where Christian is? Elliot said he didn’t really have friends and even though I know he was teasing him, I think there was truth to what he said. As far as I know, outside his family, he isn’t close to anyone but…

Oh. My. God.

I feel cold as I realize who he’s with. The person in Seattle who is already adept at getting Christian away from his family and has already promised me she would drive a wedge between us.

Elena Lincoln.

Fuck, did I wait too long to give him an answer? Is he tired of my reluctance so he just went back to her? Did he realize the Dominant/Submissive thing wasn’t something he was ready to give up on? Was he lying to me this whole time?

As the scene of Mrs. Robinson hitting him and then kissing him in Carrick’s office re-plays in my mind, I can’t tell if I want to be sick or cry. Nausea wins out and I have to run to the bathroom where I heave into the toilet, images of Christian and Mrs. Robinson spinning in my mind.

As I heave again and again, the tears start, and when I finally make it back to my bed, I bawl as quietly as I can into my pillow so my mom can’t hear me. It’s hours before sleep comes and when it does, my dreams are restless as I re-live that scene from Carrick’s office over and over and over again.

After breakfast the next morning, of which I only manage a few bites, I’m only able to escape my mom by telling her that I want to go Christmas shopping for her and Bob. She lets me borrow her car and I drive to the Meadows Mall around the corner from where I live, trying the whole way not to cry.

As I walk from store to store, I wonder why I wanted to be alone. I’m not distracted by the busy shoppers around me or the overly eager salesmen trying desperately to get me to leave the store with their products. All I can think about is Christian and Mrs. Lincoln. Is he with her? Does he wish he was with her? What are they doing right now? Is she hurting him because of me and the things I said to her in the bathroom at Mia’s recital? It’s too much to take!

I can’t go home without gifts so after an hour of desperate wandering, I take a deep breath to pull myself together and search for things to buy. I get my mom a sweater and Bob a new set of balls and tees for his golf set. Ray gets a new copy of some football book written by a legendary coach I remember him saying he liked, and for Kate I buy a bracelet at a funky, independent store. I want to buy something for Christian, but I don’t know what to get someone who seems to have everything and after all of this, I don’t know if he’ll want to speak with me again.

Will I want to speak with him?

The idea of not being around him, especially now that I’ve made the decision to be with him is extremely painful. I need to know what’s going on. I’ll call him tonight and hopefully, if he answers, he will tell me that he’s just been busy with school or something. He did leave kind of early, perhaps he had to make up a final. Or maybe he was doing something for Ros? I don’t know, but I’m going to hope for the best.

That night, I sit alone in my room and wrap the packages I bought. I called Christian after dinner and got his voicemail again so now my phone is sitting on the bed in front of me and I’m staring at it as I fold paper around boxes and tie them off with ribbon. Unfortunately, I don’t hear from him for the rest of the night and I go to bed with visions of him tied to a bedpost while Mrs. Robinson beats him with a riding crop swimming around in my mind.

“Ana, sweetie,” My mom says, gently coaxing me from sleep the next morning. “Bob’s going to take us down to pick out a tree. Get dressed.”

Sleepily, I drag myself out of bed and fumble around in the drawers for a pair of jeans. When I’m dressed and my hair and teeth are brushed, I meet mom in the kitchen where she hands me a hot mug of English Twinings Breakfast tea. I take it gratefully, drinking slowly as I nibble on a banana.

The tree lot around the corning is having a Christmas Eve blowout sale and Mom is able to snag a great deal on a huge Douglas Fir. She writes the salesman a check while Bob and I tie the tree to the top of the car. As he makes sure everything is secured, I realize I’ve forgotten my phone at home so I have no idea if Christian has called me back yet. It is kind of liberating though, having the choice of waiting for him to respond taken away from me. Maybe, until Christmas is over, I should just leave my phone alone. If he calls, he can leave a message. Heaven knows I’ve already made myself more than available for him.

When we get home, Bob pulls the tree into the cramped garage overfilled with tools and gadgets. He pulls down the hacksaw hanging off the peg board and mom and I watch as he cuts the bottom of the trunk off.

“A little to the left.” Mom instructs me as we stand in the living room to set up the tree. I push gently on the trunk and when she gives us the thumbs up sign, Bob begins to tightly screw the bolts into the bottom of the trunk. While we wait for the tree to settle, we eat lunch and watch the animated version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas. My mom has made her special hot cocoa and she smiles as she reaches over to place a Candy Cane in the cup for me to stir with.

After a relaxing afternoon of christmas movies, baking, and a quick dinner of sub sandwiches, Mom puts on some christmas music and we decorate the tree together. I smile at her as she hums along with the music and concentrates extremely hard on where to place the ornaments. She and I have a strained relationship, broken at times when I felt that she chose men over me, but we’re in a good place again and I’m glad to be here spending the holiday with her. Once the tree is decorated and the presents are placed neatly underneath, I grab a cookie and head off to bed.

Just as I’m about to crawl into bed, I see the blue light on my phone blinking and feel a rush of adrenaline which is unfortunately squashed when I unlock the screen to see another picture message from Kate. It’s a picture of her and Elliot in the Grey’s living room, a huge, seemingly professionally decorated tree in the background as well as several of the Grey’s sitting around looking as though they’re having a pleasant conversation. Kate and Elliot look blissfully happy, at ease with one another and yes, in love. She captioned the picture saying:

Merry Christmas Eve! Lots of Love from Elliot and I!

I smile and look at the people in the background, wondering if Christian is in the picture. Mia is on the floor and making a weird face in the direction of the camera, a sneaky photobomb, while Mr. Grey sits on the chair across from the large sectional where Mrs. Grey is sitting, laughing next to… Mrs. Lincoln.

It’s hard to tell if it’s her for sure from the camera angle, but the blonde hair clearly distinguishable behind Elliot is the tell-tale sign. I don’t see Christian in the picture but I assume he must just be out of the shot. I suppose it shouldn’t be a surprise that Mrs. Lincoln would be there, she is Grace’s best friend after all, but it makes me cringe. If Grace knew what this woman had done to Christian, she wouldn’t welcome her to her holiday celebrations with her family, wouldn’t be laughing at some joke in her company, she’d be in jail.

I throw my phone on the bed in disgust and settle in for the night, trying my best to block all of this out just as I was successfully able to do throughout the day.

I’m awakened in the morning by the scent of cinnamon cooking and I smile as I recall, from many Christmas morning’s ago, the taste of my mom’s homemade cinnamon rolls. I leap out of bed with excitement and am not disappointed when I reach the kitchen and my mom is pouring hot homemade icing over a huge sticky bun. She hands it to me, my smile so broad my cheeks hurt, and I rush to the table next to Bob and dive it. It’s SO good!

“Slow down, Ana!” Bob jokes. “We’ll get to presents, I promise!”

“Forget presents,” I say through an overfilled mouth. “This is all I need for a Merry Christmas right here.”

When I’m too full of food after breakfast is finished, the dishes are cleaned, and a maple glazed ham is cooking in the oven, we move into the living room where I pass out presents. Mom and Bob are both pleased with the things I’ve picked out for them but I’m overjoyed when I open my Mom’s gift and pull out a brand new quilt she’s made for me. The colors and pattern are beautiful and I’m delighted as I wrap it around me, already feeling it’s warmth.

“Thanks, Mom!” I say, and she smiles down at me.

Ray sent some money and list for my mom to buy me a gift and from him I open a new stationary set and a digital camera. I think he’s hinting that he wants me to send him more letters. I get a couple new sets of clothes from my mom, a copy of Emma from my mom’s lonely next door neighbor, and a check for $1500 from Bob.

“Wha-” I gasp, exasperated when I pull the check from the envelope.

“That’s for your books next semester,” He says. “You’ve been working so hard to make it though, your mother and I wanted to do everything we can to help you out.”

“This is too much,” I protest. “Thank you, but I can’t…”

“You can, and you will,” My mother says. “We’re your parents and we want to help you out with college as best we can. We may not be able to pay your tuition, but we can certainly do this.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I tell them, still looking unbelieving down at the check. “Thank you so much, it’s…” But i don’t even know how to finish that sentence I’m so overwhelmed.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” Bob says, and I cross the room to hug him and my mom.

We clean up the remaining wrapping paper off the floor, and while Bob settles in to start putting together the new work bench my mom got for him, Mom and I put Christmas dinner together. We’re just sitting down to the spread when the doorbell rings.

I watch Mom cross the short distance from the dining room to the front door and peer around the corner to see who it is. She opens the door and a courier stands on the step, a small package in one hand and an electronic signature pad in the other.

“Anastasia Steele?” He asks.

“Anastasia, honey!” Mom says, waving me over to the door. I get up from the table, laying my napkin in the now vacant seat and cross the room. The courier holds out the electronic pad for me to sign and I scribble a hasty signature on the line as I take the package from him. It’s very light.

“Thank-you,” I say as I close the door.

“Who is it from?” Mom asks, curiosity alight in her eyes.

“It doesn’t say,” I tell her, flipping the box over to look for any kind of label. As I do, the box produces a very satisfying thumping noise, as if something is tumbling around inside.

“Well, open it!” She says excitedly.

I set the package down on the counter and pull out a small, professionally wrapped box and a card in a square white envelope. Peeling back the tab on the envelope, I pull out a neat white card and read:

I saw these and they were so beautiful, they reminded me of you and I knew you had to have them. Merry Christmas -Christian

Christian?

Eagerly, I peel off the beautiful gold wrapping paper and am left with a small red box with the words Cartier inscribed across the top in a fluid typeface. I gasp as I open the box and see a pair of exquisite drop earrings. A delicate white gold chain dangles from the hook and ends in a perfect, round white diamond.

“Anastasia,” My mother gasps, “Who sent these to you?”

“Uh…” I say, still breathless. I can’t answer her. She reaches over and takes the card from me.

“Christian?” She asks, and as I nod I look over to see her smile down at me with ill concealed jubilation. Bob walks over to take a peak and whistles when he sees the earrings.

“Whew, that’s an expensive gift,” He says. “A boyfriend of yours, Ana?”

“Um, no. Not really,” I say, feeling my cheeks redden.

“Well, I suppose money doesn’t mean the same thing to most Ivy League people as it does to us,” He says. “Make sure you’re managing his expectations, Ana. Usually gifts like this come with strings attached.”

I swallow as I think that the strings might just be attached to my wrists at one end and a bed post at the other.

After several minutes ogling the too expensive earrings and my mother’s insistent line of questioning about Christian that may even rival the interview skills of the great Katherine Kavanagh, we are able to settle down for Christmas dinner. When dinner is cleared, Ray calls and I’m able to talk to him for a few minutes, thank him for his gift, and tell him mine is on the way to him. That night when I go to bed, I tuck the earrings into my bag, swearing I will return them to Christian when I get back to Cambridge and hoping his father doesn’t know he’s bought them for me.

When I pick Kate up from the airport on the 30th, she seems to be glowing with happiness. A week with Elliot has done her very well it seems. I’ve promised my mom we’ll come spend the afternoon with her at home before heading down to the strip. Kate fills the drive with every detail of her last week and I feel a twinge of jealousy of the time she’s spent with the Greys. Being home with Mom has felt great, but there was a sense of family so overpowering with the Greys I find myself feeling nearly bereft since I’ve been away from them.

“So… uh, I kind of invited Elliot to join us,” Kate says as we turn on to my street.

“Oh?” I say slightly disappointed. “When will he get in?”

“Not until tomorrow night. He’s only going to stay for New Year’s Eve and then he’s back to Seattle. It’s all that Grace would allow.”

“Sounds like fun!” I say, excitement building now that I know the majority of Kate’s stay will just be me and her, although I’m worried about the sleeping arrangements the night he is here. I hope he has the good sense to get his own room…

“Yeah,” Kate agrees. “He says he knows the guy who runs the door at Chateau and he thinks he can get us in for the New Year’s Eve party.”

“A club?” I ask, completely forgetting my reservations about Elliot. Having him here will definitely be a good then.

“Yes,” Kate says happily. “It’s going to be an amazing night, I’m so excited!”

I pull into the driveway in front of my house and see my mother standing on the porch waiting for us.

“Katherine!” She says excitedly, rushing out to the driveway to meet us when we pull in.

“Hi, Carla!” Kate replies.

“You look so beautiful!” My mom exclaims. “I can’t believe how grown up you are! I haven’t seen you since you were, what eleven?”

“I think so!” Kate says and my mom envelops her in a hug.

We settle down in the living room and Kate fills my mom in on her own Harvard experience and her new boyfriend that she just can’t seem to stop talking about.

“Have you met Ana’s boyfriend?” My mom asks, smiling over at me.

“He’s not my boyfriend, Mom,” I remind her.

“All the same…” She continues but when she turns her attention away from me, Kate snorts.

“Christian?” She says, “Yes, I’ve met him. He’s Elliot’s brother and he lives across the hall from us at Harvard.”

I take note by Kate’s tone that she seems to have dropped her attempt to be nice to Christian. She’s talks about him as if it’s an inconvenience, like a traffic jam or errand she has to run.

“You don’t like him?” My mom asks, also picking up on Kate’s tone.

“He’s alright,” She says. “I’ve basically spent this last week at his house with Elliot and I’ve seen him maybe… four times? I don’t know, he’s either always locked up in his room or off with some friend Elliot knows nothing about. Plus he hasn’t said a word to his father since he’s been back and even though his mom is the nicest woman you’ll ever meet, he’s pretty distant with her, too.”

“So, you don’t think he’s kind?” My mother asks, shooting me a warning glare.

“He’s annoying,” Kate clarifies.

“Well, he sent Ana a wonderful Christmas present,” She says, and I roll my eyes.

“Did he?” Kate asks, looking expectantly at me. I begrudgingly stand from the couch and disappear into my room to take the earrings out of my bag. When I hand the red box to Kate, she looks down at it with wide eyes.

“Ana!” She gasps as she opens the box. “Oh my god!”

“I know,” I tell her. “I’m returning them when I see him again.”

“Why?” both Kate and my mother exclaim together.

“Because it’s too much,” I say, taking the box back from Kate. “It wouldn’t be right if I accepted them.”

Kate launches into a long monologue, trying to change my mind about the earrings but my mind is made up. I decide that if she’s going back to Seattle in a few days, Kate can give them back to Christian sooner than I could so I hand her the box and ask her to give them back to him. She frowns but agrees, and I nod before retreating to my room to grab my overnight bag.

“Ready?” I ask Kate when I return. She jumps off the couch, excitement alight on her face, and we follow my mom out to the car.

Our first night on the strip is fairly quiet. We walk up and down Las Vegas BLVD taking in the free shows at Treasure Island and the Mirage and watching the dancing water fountains at the Bellagio before we head to bed around midnight, ordering a movie on pay per view as we snuggle into the luxurious hotel beds. When Kate’s asleep, I find myself staring at my phone, thinking about Christian and his Christmas present. I’m confused by his thoughtful, but overly generous gift in juxtaposition to his lack of response to my calls and text. I frown and open my text message app.

I have my answer.

I stare down at the text, hoping it will coax him into at least responding to me. I set my phone on my nightstand and try drift off to sleep, though it’s difficult as I anxiously wait for the buzzing noise of an incoming text.

But it never comes.

The next morning starts with breakfast at the Spice Market Buffet and a long afternoon of free spa services that my mom was able to get for us. We’re waxed, plucked, polished, massaged, and released completely new and invigorated women. Next, we hit the Forum Shops in Caesar’s Palace. Kate goes crazy stopping at all her favorite stores and blowing through money so quickly I actually cringe every time she swipes her credit card.

“We need to find you something to wear out tonight,” Kate says as we leave Ted Baker clutching to three different bags of clothes she’s purchased.

“I can’t afford to buy anything here,” I laugh exasperatedly as we walk past Versace.

“Sure you can,” She says, “Look there’s an H&M over there. We’ll find you something cheap and fabulous.”

The H&M we enter is the biggest one I’ve ever been in. It’s three stories tall and packed with people. It takes us nearly an hour to comb through the racks until we find a short, tight black dress with one long sleeve. I think it might be a little too short, but Kate seems to think it’s perfect for a night out in Vegas. I find a cute pair of gladiator heels and some chunky bracelets, and when we leave, I actually manage to get out of the store for less than $60. Kate finds a dress for herself, but insists on dragging me in to Louboutin to finish her look.

“What time is Elliot getting here?” I ask, as we throw our bags down on the bed back in the hotel room.

“I’m not sure,” Kate says. She picks up her phone to text him and she smiles when the text comes back through. “He says he’s checking in at the Bellagio now. He should be ready to meet for dinner in about an hour.”

We spend the next hour and a half getting ready. Kate curls my hair and teases it up so it’s like a billowing cloud of chestnut tumbling down over my shoulders. My makeup is more dramatic than the natural look she usually does on me. My eyes are smoky with black eyeliner and false lashes. She uses bronzer to contour my face and when she’s done, I look like I’m about to hit a red carpet or something. Fortunately her make up is just as striking as mine so I don’t look too overdone. Especially not for a night out in a nightclub on the Las Vegas strip, or so she tells me. Before we leave, she pulls the red Cartier box out of her bag and begs me to wear the earrings. I’m not sure I’ll be able to return them if I’ve warn them but she’s so insistent, I finally give in and slip them through the holes in my ears.

We head downstairs and across the street from Planet Hollywood to the Bellagio. This resort is much more upscale than the hotel where we’re staying and I find myself wishing my dress was longer as we pass Chanel and Dior. Kate pulls out her phone once we reach the main part of the hotel to text Elliot, and I read it over her shoulder.

We’re here, where are you?

Casino. Blackjack.

I follow Kate into the large circular room filled with tables and dealers and surrounded by noisy slot machines. It takes us several minutes, but we eventually spot Elliot sitting at a table, a large stack of chips next to him.

“Hit,” Elliot says, brushing his cards against the table. The dealer pulls up an 8 leaving Elliot at 18 and then deals himself a card, busting at 23. He clears the cards and deals out another sizable stack of chips in front of Elliot.

“Looks like my good luck charm has arrived,” Elliot says, kissing Kate. He picks up a few chips and gives them to the dealer before turning to cash out at the window on the far wall.

“Where do you want to go for dinner?” Kate asks, hooking her arm through his.

“Christian wants to go to the buffet at the Wynn,” Elliot says, tucking the cash in his wallet.

“Christian?” I ask, just as Elliot glances up with recognition.

“Christian!” He shouts waving his arm and I turn to see him walking towards us. He looks mysterious and incredibly sexy dressed in black slacks, a black jacket and a black button down shirt.

“Hello, Anastasia,” He says when he comes up to us, and he offers me his arm as Kate and Elliot lead the way to the doors that lead to the strip.

Next Chapter

 

“Kate!” I yell when I see her blonde hair weaving through the crowd at Logan International Airport the next day. I wave my arms to draw her attention as she squeezes her way through an opening in the crowd. When she breaks through, I open my arms to hug her but she drops her bags, puts her hands on her hips, and glares at me.

“I’ll be fine staying behind. I’m just going to catch up on my reading and work on essays?” She says, reiterating what I had told her before when she found out I didn’t plan on going home for Thanksgiving break. She must have already talked to Elliot.

“I didn’t plan it,” I say defensively. “Christian was leaving and he saw me alone and he booked me a ticket. I didn’t ask him too, it just kind of happened.”

She looks at me indignantly for a moment, but eventually the stern look on her face melts away and she pulls me into a hug.

“I’ve missed you,” She says, not pulling away from me. I grip her tightly, feeling at ease for the first time since I found out the truth about Christian and Mrs. Lincoln.

“Come on,” She says, grabbing the handle to her suitcase. “You’re going to tell me everything on the way home.”

“Here are your keys,” I tell her when we get to her car in the parking garage.

“Ugh, I’ve been flying all day. The last thing I want to do is drive.”

I nod and climb into the driver’s seat and drive out of the garage. When we’ve paid the parking fee, we pull onto the road back to Cambridge and Kate immediately starts her line of questioning.

“What is going on between you and Christian? Elliot said you two act like a couple but swear up and down that you’re not dating.”

“We’re friends, Kate.”

“But you like him right? You want to be more than that?”

I frown, knowing Christian is waiting for this exact answer.

“I don’t know… I think so, but I just… ugh, I don’t know.”

“Does he like you?” She asks.

“Yes.”

“Does he turn you on?”

“Kate!” I say shocked, although I don’t know why this shocks me. It is Kate after all.

“Come on, Ana!” Kate whines. “I’m just trying to help you avoid this same mistake again, remember the Carter fiasco?”

I glare at her and then turn to look at the road as I give her my answer.

“Yes,” I finally acquiesce and she squeals with giddy delight.

“Ana and Christian sitting in a tree,” Kate sings softly, dancing in the front seat of the car. I roll my eyes.

“You and Elliot are perfect for one another. You’re both really annoying,” I tell her, and she smiles back at me as we head into Cambridge.

When we get home, I help Kate unpack before we head down to Annenberg for dinner. I’m just about to devour my cheese and broccoli soup when Kate continues her interview from the car ride home.

“So what did you do in Seattle anyway?”

“A lot. Christian’s parents took us to a Seahawks game and out to dinner on the first Sunday night and on Monday Mr. Grey took Christian, Elliot, and I out on his boat. I went shopping with Mrs. Grey on Wednesday… Oh and I uh, I had to borrow some clothes from you. I went to your house and grabbed some stuff, it’s all in your closet.”

“What clothes?”

“A white blouse, black pencil skirt, and a pair of black shoes.” I say, and she nods.

“I have a presentation this week so that might help me out. What else did you do?”

“Uh, we had dinner on Thanksgiving and we went to Mia’s ballet recital on Friday.”

“What’s Grace like?” She asks, and I realize that even though she and Elliot have been dating for a couple months now, she’s never actually met Mrs. Grey.

“She’s really nice,” I tell her. “You can tell she cares about her kids a lot. She was very warm and welcoming to me. In fact, she wants to have lunch when she comes to visit Christian.”

“And Mr. Grey?” Kate continues. I frown and she creases her brow with worry.

“I think he’s a little more… guarded,” I say carefully.

“What do you mean?” Kate asks. She never lets me get away with the easy response. I sigh and decide to tell her outright.

“He thinks I’m into Christian for his trust fund.”

“Why?” Kate asks disgustedly.

“Because I don’t come from money and I go to an expensive school.”

“He sounds like a snob,” Kate says, but I shrug.

“How was the bahamas?” I ask, and she launches into a detailed story of her week in paradise until Jose plops down beside me.

“Hey, Jose!” I say cheerfully, taking a large spoonful of soup.

“So you do remember my name?” He asks. He sounds almost hurt.

“Of course I do,” I say.

“Well, you never talk to me anymore. Last I saw you, you were with that Grey guy at Halloween. I heard he beat up a kid that night.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m sorry I haven’t called, it’s been a pretty hectic few weeks. Where’s… what was her name? Hannah?”

“Heather,” He corrects me, “And she didn’t last long. I’m on to Julia, this girl in my Complex Function Theory class. She’s fine, and one day I will make her mine.”

Kate snorts into her diet coke and tries to hide her laughter into a napkin while she dabs her face clean. I pat Jose on the back with encouragement but wish I could openly snicker like Kate. Oh, Jose.

We invite Jose back to our dorm to watch a movie and while Kate rushes to the third floor to grab a DVD, Jose and I head to the common lounge on the first floor of Grays, where there is a giant flatscreen TV mounted on the wall and several comfortable couches. Jose flops across one of the oversized couches just as Kate emerges with The Princess Bride and a few blankets. I lay on the couch with Jose, my head on the opposite armrest, and pull a blanket over me while Kate puts the movie on. We’re only about 15 minutes in when a loud noise from the entrance hall distracts us. I turn and see Christian walking through the door with Ros and he doesn’t seem to be very happy.

“We need something in person,” He says sternly. “A face to face, even if we can just get it over Skype. Please tell me you can at least set that up?”

“I think so,” Ros says but then corrects herself when she sees Christian’s hard gaze. “I’ll take care of it, Christian.”

He nods and turns to walk but the stairs to his dorm but the noise from the movie catches his attention and he pauses when he notices me on the couch and then walks over to the TV lounge.

“Anastasia?” He says, his eyes darting to Jose laying across from me. He doesn’t look pleased by our seating arrangement.

“Hi, Christian!” Kate says happily, obviously trying to be nicer to him now that she knows we may become a couple soon. “Won’t you join us?”

“I have work to attend to, thank-you Katherine,” He says formally. “Anastasia, may I speak to you privately for a moment?”

“Uh, sure,” I say, throwing the blanket off of me and pushing myself up off the couch. I follow him back into the entrance hall where Ros is waiting impatiently.

“Here are my keys, Ros. I’ll be there in five minutes, start without me,” Christian says, handing Ros the keys to his room. She rolls her eyes but takes the keys and disappears up the staircase. Christian leads me into a hallway off the right side of the entrance hall that leads to a pair of bathrooms and he corners me.

“What are you doing?” He demands.

“Watching a movie?” I respond, confused by his urgent tone.

“I mean with that Rodriguez kid. What are you doing cuddling with him on the couch?”

“Jose is my friend, and I wasn’t cuddling with him, I was sharing a couch with him while we watched a movie together.”

“You know he wants into your panties, don’t you?” He says, continuing his too demanding tone.

“Uh, no,” I say.

“Don’t be so naive, Ana. He’s trying to seduce you.”

“Christian, what are you talking abou-” I begin but I’m cut off as his hands race into my hair and pull me to him in a hard, possessing kiss that leaves my lips feeling swollen and my knees weak. I’m melting into him and have to remember to steady myself when he releases me.

“Say yes,” He says, breathless.

“Christian… I need time. I’ve barely…”

“Then, just… stay with me tonight,” He pleads, cutting me off again.

“Christian…”

“Please, Anastasia.”

“Hey, Ana do you want me to paus- oh sorry!” Kate says, dashing away in embarrassment.

“Kate!” I call after her.

“Anastasia,” Christian says, still waiting for an answer.

“Not tonight,” I tell him rushing after after Kate. He calls after me but I ignore him and re-enter the TV room to Kate’s smug smile. She sees Christian walk past to the stairs and calls after him with a smugly satisfied tone.

“Have a good night, Christian!”

I glare at her.

“What?” She asks innocently.

“You know what,” I say. She shrugs and picks up the remote to hit play.

“You two will make such beautiful babies,” She says, and I shake my head as I turn to watch the movie.

The first day back to classes starts what feels like a marathon of papers, reading assignments, and endless study sessions as the entire student body prepares for finals. During dead week and finals week, the library is open 24 hours a day, so I’m working extra shifts. The bad news is, studying with the constant interruption of students asking for resources or needing to checkout books is extremely difficult. The good news is, when it’s slow, I really do have time to think about Christian and what I want. Thankfully, he seems to finally have taken my request for time seriously as he’s been avoiding me for several days. At least, I hope that’s what he’s doing.

While I work the long shifts in the library, thousands of dreams and scenarios of what our relationship would be like run through my mind, some of them good, some of them bad. In the end, I decide I have too many questions to figure this out for myself. I’m going to have to talk to him. So on the Monday of finals week, I make a clear list of everything I need to know in order for me to make a decision.

Our Brit Lit final is on Wednesday and since I finish the test before Christian, I wait outside the building for him. Fall has faded too quickly into winter and as I stare at the door to the English building, I shiver against the cold December breeze. Fortunately, I’m only waiting five minutes or so before Christian comes out of the building, his eyes focused on his Blackberry.

“Christian!” I call, hurrying up to him.

“Anastasia?” He asks. “What are you doing?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” I tell him and as I speak, his whole body freezes.

“You’ve decided?” He asks with trepidation.

“No, but I need to ask you some things before I can. Do you want to get coffee or something?”

He looks anxiously down at his phone and then out ahead of us as if he’s expecting to see someone who is waiting for him.

“I have an appointment with Ros that I can’t miss,” He says regretfully. “Really, Anastasia, we have a video conference call that I have to be there for.”

“Oh, well…” I hesitate. “Okay, I’ll just see you later then.”

“Let me take you to dinner tonight?” He asks.

“Sure,” I tell him. “Text me when and where and I’ll meet you there.”

“I’ll pick you up,” He suggests.

“I’d rather drive myself,” I tell him.

He looks like he wants to argue but, I think in the interest of saving time, he nods, reaches out, and traces the line of my cheek with his thumb before he turns and hurries off down the path. I watch after him, so anxious to speak with him I worry waiting until tonight will feel like an eternity.

I open the door to our dorm and Kate looks up from the book on her lap. Her entire bed is covered in loose papers, books, and several spiral bound notebooks filled with partially highlighted text. She’s wearing her oversized “journalist” glasses so I know she’s deep into study mode.

“Hey, Ana,” She says halfheartedly still staring intently down at her book.

“Hey,” I say, plopping down at my desk and digging through my bag for something to study that will hopefully make the time go by faster.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, picking up on the forlorn tone in my voice.

“Nothing. I wanted to go to coffee with Christian after our final but he’s busy.”

“You hate coffee,” Kate says.

“That’s not the point, Kate.”

“Well, finals are a busy time. You can’t really blame him. Maybe you can go tomorrow or at the end of the week when finals are over.”

“He’s taking me to dinner tonight to make up for it,” I tell her.

“Like a date?” She asks, excitedly.

“Uh… no, not really. Oh, can I borrow your car?”

“Sure,” She says, looking down at her books once again. I wonder if she’s too busy to dig too deeply into my plans with Christian tonight. It’s not like her to let something like this go so easily. About an hour later, Christian texts me that he’s made reservations under the name Grey at Oleana for 7 o’clock so at 6 pm I start digging through my drawers trying to find something to wear.

“Kate, do you have a dress I can borrow?” I ask.

“Yeah, take what you need,” She says, gesturing to her closet but not looking up.

I cross the room to her closet and search through the clothes until I find a fairly long, well fitted plum dress. I grab the pair of nude pumps I borrowed for Halloween and disappear into the bathroom to change. Heading back into the room, I dig through my purse to find the mascara and lip gloss that Kate gave to me earlier in the year. I bend over her dresser to look in the mirror while I apply the makeup and Kate finally breaks.

“Anastasia,” She says with exasperation, “Sit down.”

I glance at her gratefully as she disappears into the bathroom and returns with her makeup case that’s so big, it looks like the tackle box Ray takes fishing. Carefully and methodically she does my hair and applies makeup to my face with different brushes and sponges until she’s satisfied, and when I look at the finished product, I’m more than pleased. Kate is an artist.

“Thank you so much!” I say gratefully as I hurry and gather my things. Unfortunately the extra time Kate took to do my hair and make-up has made me late. I grab her car keys and rush out to the Mercedes in the parking lot.

I get to the restaurant in record time, meaning I’m only five minutes late. I walk through the doors and give the maitre d’ Christian’s name. He nods with recognition and tells me to follow after him. I’m lead to a dimly lit, secluded part of the restaurant and I wonder if Christian planned it this way. I remember him taking me out of town the last time we had a serious talk like this. I’m surprised though, when I’m seated at a small table with a single candle flickering soft light over the place settings laid neatly over the crisp white table cloth, that Christian isn’t there.

“My party hasn’t arrived yet?” I ask.

“No, Miss. You are the first to arrive,” The host says. He pulls the chair out for me and asks what I would like to drink. I ask him for a sparkling water and when he departs, I look in the direction of the door wondering where Christian could be. I think back to the list of personality traits I put together at the beginning of the year and though it wasn’t specifically added, it was very much observed that Christian Grey is punctual.

The waiter brings me my water and asks if I would like to look at the menu. I tell him I’ll wait for the rest of my party, and he nods and disappears again. Twenty minutes later, Christian still hasn’t arrived so I look down at my phone. No missed calls, no text messages. Where is he?

Another twenty minutes pass and I still haven’t heard anything. I re-read the text message he sent me earlier just to confirm I had the right place and the right time and everything adds up…

Oh no, he’s going to stand me up.

It’s not long before the host is pressing me to either give up the table or order food and I’m about to leave an astounding 57 minutes after I arrived when finally Christian appears. He’s on the phone when he sits down but at least his presence makes the waiter disappear.

“I don’t give a fuck what you think you can or cannot do Ros, get me the fucking meeting. We can’t lose this deal!” He nearly shouts, and when his tirade is over he practically slams his Blackberry down on the table.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” He says, his tone still slightly harsh. “You look beautiful, Anastasia.”

Great, what a perfect way to start this evening off, I’m pissed because he’s late and he’s in a bad mood over something he’s doing with Ros.

“Let’s just order,” I say, agitated, picking up the menu the waiter insisted I take nearly half an hour ago. He too picks up the menu and when the waiter comes back, I order the lemon chicken and Christian gets the halibut.

“How did your finals go?” I ask as the waiter sets our plate in front of us.

“Fine. I didn’t have much trouble with British Literature and I think I have you to think for that,” He says.

“It was a fairly easy final,” I say. “I guess we won’t have any classes together anymore.”

“I suppose not,” He says and I do hear a twinge of regret in his voice.

“Have you signed up for you classes next semester?” I ask.

“Yes,”

“What are you taking?”

“Is this really what you wanted to talk to me about, Anastasia?” He asks and I frown, wondering why he’s being so pushy.

“No, but…” I hesitate. “I do like just talking to you Christian.”

“Prerequisites,” He says, answering my previous question and I know he’s not going to be up for much chit chat tonight. I need to get to the point but suddenly, I’m wishing I could have ordered a glass of wine to give me courage.

“What can I tell you that I haven’t already, Anastasia?” Christian asks, starting the conversation for me. “I can’t change the past. It has nothing to do with you or us. It’s just something I used to do and now I don’t.”

“How did it start?” I ask. He sighs.

“When I was fifteen, I was out of control. I’ve told you this. My mom didn’t know what to do with me, I was getting expelled from school for drinking and fighting, I wouldn’t listen to a single thing either of my parents said. When I got expelled again, I had to stay home for a while until my mom could find a new school that would take me. She didn’t want me sitting around the house acting like I was on vacation so she called Elena and asked if she had any work around the house I could do. She did and so the next day, I went over to move some river rock she was having installed around her pool. It was hot, sweaty work, and I was miserable, but when Elena brought me something cold to drink, instead of acting grateful, I gave her my typical smart-ass attitude and she hit me, hard, across the face. I was shocked by the contact but even more so when she immediately grabbed me and kissed me. Everything in my body, all the pent up frustration came alive and when she let me go, she slapped me again, and it felt really good. She told me to come back the next day and she’d have something else for me to do. Three weeks later, my first contract was signed.”

“And you like it? The hitting, I mean.”

“Liked, Anastasia. Past tense. I had planned on moving on in the spring when my contract was over anyway.”

“Moved onto what? A normal relationship?”

“No. I’d never envisioned a normal relationship until I met you.”

“So you would have become someone else’s submissive or you would have become a dominant?”

“A dominant.”

“To who?”

“Elena,” He says plainly and my stomach twinges.

“And she would just do that?” I ask.

“Yes, Elena has experience on both sides. She likes playing the Domme better but to keep our agreement, she was more than willing to play the submissive.”

“So what do you want now?”

“I want you, Anastasia. I’ve told you this.”

“But do you still want to be a Dom?”

“Yes,”

My throat goes dry as I realize he’s confirming my fears. What if he wants to do it to you?

“You want me to be your submissive?” I ask, my voice barely audible.

“Not if you don’t want to,” He says evenly.

“But you want me to?”

“Part of me… yes,” He says after a brief pause. “I’m attracted to this lifestyle, Ana. I find it pleasurable and it was always what I had envisioned for myself if the time ever came when I left Elena.”

I feel a stinging in my throat as the weight of his words hit me. This isn’t going to work and it wasn’t until this moment that I realize how much I really wanted it to. I must have known, deep down, it would come to this. The pain I feel with this realization tells me how desperate I am to be with him and had I known the true depth of my feeling before, I wouldn’t have hesitated to give him an answer. My indecisiveness was a defense mechanism and I’ve just broken the the dam, allowing the pain to flood through.

“What is it, Anastasia?” He asks, concerned.

“This isn’t going to work,” I croak. His face shifts from concern to fear.

“What do you mean?” He asks, his voice strained.

“I mean, we want different things. You’re caught up in this lifestyle that I want nothing to do with Christian and my expectations of you, of what I would want our relationship to be, are unrealistic.”

“Anastasia,” He says, quickly, his voice betraying the calm reserve he’s trying to project. “I’m out. I’ve left it behind. It’s you I want, anyway I can have you. It won’t be like that.”

I glance up at him, desperate to believe the things he’s saying, but Elena’s words from Carrick’s office ring in my ears.

I bet you fuck her once and end up crawling back to me on your hands and knees begging for this.

“For how long?” I ask.

“What?”

“For how long will you be okay giving it all up? You say you’re fine with it now but what about in a week, or a month, or even a year, Christian?”

“Anastasia, you’re over complicating this. This isn’t about any of that shit. This is about us. I want you, only you. Sure, I’ve been interested in that lifestyle in the past, but you’re not. I accept that. Please, Anastasia.”

He stops but only because he seems to be at a loss for words.

“I don’t know, Christian…” I say, worried how easily my resolve seems to be wavering. I’m in this too deep already. If we slept together and he realized this wasn’t what he wanted, it would break me. But, despite that knowledge, despite the empty feeling that is already threatening to consume me just based on this realization, I want nothing more than to concede, tell him I’m his, and beg him to take me home with him.

“What can I do?” He asks. “What do you need me to do to prove to you that it’s all over? That it’s only you now?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “Look, I won’t say anything now. Maybe I’m rushing this.”

“Anastasia, tell me what to do,” He begs.

“Time,” I say. “Give me time.”

It’s at this moment the waiter places the check on the table and I’ve been prepared for this moment since I stepped through the doors. I snatch the bill, put my debit card inside and hand it back to the waiter before he can walk away.

“What are you doing?” Christian asks, taken aback by how quickly the transaction takes place, and the desperation in his voice begins to burn away with anger.

“I’m paying,” I tell him. “I don’t want your father thinking I’m only interested in you for your money.”

“You think I give a fuck what my father thinks?” He growls.

“Maybe, maybe not,” I say. “But I do.”

Christian’s hands shoot up into his hair in frustration as the waiter sets the leather book back on the table. I sign the receipt and Christian gets up to pull my chair out for me.

“Thank-you,” I say, and he nods and takes my hand, pulling me out of the restaurant.

“Where are you parked?” He asks, and I point to Kate’s car on the curb.

“When will you know?” He says, the pain in his voice evident again as I begin digging through my purse for my keys.

“Soon, I hope,” I tell him, and he looks like he’s going to say something but is distracted when his phone rings. I see the conflict of whether or not to answer it rush across his face and after several seconds hesitation he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the Blackberry.

“Fuck,” He hisses looking down at the number. “Don’t leave yet, please.”

I nod and he steps away from me to answer the phone.

“Ros?” He practically barks into the mouthpiece and whatever she says must be good news because for the first time tonight, he relaxes and something close to excitement crosses his face. “Really? Excellent. In person? When? No, don’t delay, I’ll be there. We need to get this cemented before anything else can get fucked up.”

He hangs up the phone without any kind of salutation and rounds on me.

“What are you doing for the holiday?” He asks.

“Going home to Vegas,” I say and he frowns but nods once.

“And this is what you want? Time?”

“Please,” I tell him.

“No interference from me at all?” He clarifies.

“No, I need to make this decision on my own,” I say, and his face falls. I stare back at him as his eyes focus on my mouth.

“I want to kiss you,” He tells me. I bite my lip in hesitation and then lean in and kiss him softly on the lips.

“Good-bye, Christian.”

“Anastasia…” He pleads. “Don’t say good-bye.”

My head falls for a moment as I turn around and walk back to the car. When I pull away from the curb, he’s still standing there, watching me leave.

The next day, I have my last final in Poetic Prose Composition and make my way back to Grays where Kate and I have a packing party planned for the night. We both dig through our drawers and closets for anything we may need for the long, three week vacation. For once, Kate is ecstatic about not going on some exotic vacation for break. She’s tickled pink with the idea of getting three weeks to spend with Elliot, minus the few days she plans to fly to Vegas to spend New Years with me.

“I really like him, Ana,” She says as she folds the fancy new lingerie she’s purchased and places it gently into her bag. “I really think this is it. I’ve never felt this way before.”

“I’m happy for you, Kate. I think Elliot is great.”

She smiles and happily chats about Elliot and the things she wants to do with him when she gets home. She’s meeting his parents tomorrow night and she’s got a big dinner planned to introduce him to her’s the following week. Listening to her blissful happiness, like nothing else in the world matters, sends a stab of pain through me as I realize that it’s exactly what I want with Christian. Last night didn’t go the way that I hoped, but does it matter if this is truly, deeply and irrevocably what I want?

As if in response to my silent question, the email on my computer, which is sitting on the desk behind me, pings, and I turn to see Christian’s name in the “From” section.

From: Christian Grey

Subject: My Final Plea

Date: December 20th 2007

To: Anastasia Steele

Anastasia, Don’t overthink things. You and me, that’s all that matters.

x Christian

I don’t know if it’s the email or listening to Kate gush about Elliot, but in that moment, it’s clear. He’s right. The past doesn’t matter, the only thing that matters is what Christian and I could have in the future and if I’m too scared to try because of what might happen, I’ll never know what could have happened. I want to be with Christian, plain and simple. What am I doing? All this waiting and hesitation… he’s right. Nothing else matters, and in that moment, I have my answer.

Yes.

“I’ll be right back, Kate,” I say as she sits down at her desk to check her Facebook. She nods as I rush out of the room and begin pounding furiously on Christian’s door, liberated by my decision. He doesn’t answer so I knock again. Again, nothing. Where is he? It’s too late for dinner.

There’s no light on under his door so I suppose he’s probably out. Maybe with Ros? He did say something about “in person” on the phone last night.

I walk, disappointed, back to my room, ready to begin my time with him now that I’ve allowed myself to accept that’s what I truly want.

“What’s wrong?” Kate asks when I come back in the room, obviously seeing the disappointment in my face.

“I need to talk to Christian but he’s not there. I think he’s with his friend Ros,” I tell her.

“Oh,” She says and then turns to her computer to begin typing. “She’s online, do you want me to ask her if she’s with him?”

“Yeah!” I say, new excitement bubbling within me. I cross the room and stand behind her as she clicks the message button on Ros’s Facebook page.

Hey, is Christian with you? Ana is looking for him.

Three bubbles appear in the message window as Ros types her reply.

Sorry, he’s gone home to Seattle already 😦

Next Chapter

 

“I have a solo,” Mia says Friday morning as she eats a sliced apple on the plate in front of her while Grace pulls her hair up into a tight bun on top of her head.

“You mean you’ll be dancing all alone with hundreds, maybe thousands of people watching you, criticizing you, waiting for you to screw up, and in that lonely, seemingly endless moment the entire success of the show, which dozens of people have spent countless hours on, will rest on your shoulders?” Elliot says.

“Elliot,” Grace says disapprovingly.

“Let him talk,” Mia says coolly. “I’m not nervous, I’m solid as a rock. I’m going to kill it.”

“Or kill one of the dancers,” Elliot adds.

“Elliot!” Grace chides him again, more forcefully this time.

“She’s going to do great,” Christian says handing me back my copy of Frankenstein.

“Have you ever seen a ballet before, Ana?” Grace asks.

“No,” I admit, looking up from the essay I’m writing. “Ray always preferred contact sports over the arts.”

“Ray sounds like my kind of guy,” Elliot says. “The only dance I’m interested in is Shaun Alexander mowing people over on his way to a touchdown.”

“The only dance you’re interested in is doing it with your girlfriend,” Mia says.

“Amelia Grey!” Grace exclaims, shocked.

I hear Christian attempt to cover a laugh as Grace lectures his little sister.

“She’s right though,” Elliot says, snatching the last apple slice of Mia’s plate.

“Elliot! Enough from you today!” Grace exclaims with exasperation.

When Mia is finished eating and is dressed for her recital, she and Grace load up in the car and head out for the last rehearsal before her performance this evening. Christian and I finish the remainder of our homework on the coffee table in the living room while Elliot watches re-caps and analysis from last night’s football game.

“Don’t you have any work to do?” Christian asks Elliot, disapprovingly.

“It’s called Thanksgiving BREAK, Christian,” He says, not taking his eyes off the TV. “You need to learn to live a little, bro.”

Christian shakes his head and looks back down at his books.

“Man, I wish mom hadn’t given Gretchen this weekend off. I’m starving. Dad better bring something home with him,” Elliot complains.

As if in answer to Elliot’s words, we hear the quiet rumble of the garage door open. A few minutes later, Carrick appears carrying plastic bags with red Chinese characters on the sides.

“Sorry I’m late,” He says. “I’ve been stuck in union negotiations all day. I brought home Chinese, is that okay?”

“Egg roll me,” Elliot says, finally rolling off the couch to attack the food.

“Christian, would you grab some plates from the kitchen?” Carrick asks.

Christian says nothing but instead slams his book closed, a little too hard, and storms off to the stairs.

“So he’s still not talking to me,” Carrick says sullenly.

“I’ll get them,” I volunteer and Carrick smiles at me as I walk to the kitchen. When I return there is a Chinese food buffet spread across the coffee table and I hand a plate to Carrick and Elliot, who are eating rice out of containers with chopsticks. I make up a plate of food and take it up to Christian, thankful Mia pointed out his room the last time I was up here. The door is closed so I knock hesitantly.

“What?” Christian snaps through the door.

“It’s me,” I say.

The door opens and he looks down at the food I’m holding out for him. His expression softens as he takes it.

“Thank-you, Anastasia,” He says and I smile at him before turning back to the stairs to help myself to what’s left.

An hour later the food is put away and we’re all dressed for the ballet.

“Shotgun!” Elliot calls as we step into the garage.

Carrick walks around his Mercedes and opens the driver’s side door.

“I’m going to take the SUV,” Christian says flatly, not looking at his father for approval. Carrick looks at him, surprised, but I think he decides the fight isn’t worth it because he doesn’t say anything. I frown but follow after Christian to the shiny black SUV on the far side of the cavernous garage.

Christian waits a few minutes for Carrick to get a head start and then pulls out of the garage and down the drive way. I stare at my fingers as we drive in silence.

“Do you know yet?” He asks, quietly as he turns onto the I-5 towards Seattle.

“Know what?” I reply, confused by his question.

“You said you needed time to think,” He says. “You’re leaving me twisted in knots over here, Anastasia.”

“I don’t know, Christian. No, I don’t know yet. I wasn’t expecting all of this and to be honest I’m confused by the whole situation,” I admit.

“So ask me. Tell me what you need me to clarify for you and I will. I’m not trying to hide things from you, I’m not trying to lie to you. I don’t want to play games.”

I feel my teeth sink into my bottom lip as my mind races through the hundreds of questions I have. Which one is the most important?

“Do you love her?” I ask, my voice barely more audible than a whisper.

“No,” He says flatly. My brow furrows as I think about what that means. How could he possibly deal with the things that vile woman has done to him, all the things she put him through, and the risks involved with those things if he didn’t love her. Is it all just about sex and if it is, is that all it will be between us?

“What?” Christian asks, exasperated by the look on my face that demonstrates the concerns running through my mind. He looks half mad, frustrated that he doesn’t know what I’m thinking, but I don’t know how to verbalize the questions racing through my mind. In truth, I just need time. I need time to figure out if I can manage all of his baggage because I know, deep down, that I’m already in this too deep and if I’m not careful, this will bury me. I look down at my fingers twisting together in my lap and shake my head, too tied up to speak anymore.

“Please, Anastasia,” He says softly. “I can’t take it away, I can’t change it, but it’s over. It’s you I want, only you. Nothing in the past matters. All that matters is you and me.”

“I don’t know, Christian…” I repeat hesitantly.

“When?” He asks. “When will you know.”

“I don’t know,” I say again, feeling torn between my feelings and his. He drags his fingers through his hair, resting his left arm on the window rest and biting down on his forefinger as he thinks about what I’ve just said. The rest of the car ride is silent and the tension in the air between us is so thick, it’s almost palpable. I look out the window, watching Seattle fly by, while my thoughts, my emotions, and my common sense are all at war with each other. Every fiber of my being is screaming at me to just move past it and be with Christian. It’s all I’ve wanted since the day I met him and yet a small voice in the back of my head stops me as it continually repeats the thought that is the very essence of my fear.

What if he wants to do this to you?

Fifteen minutes later we pull up to Benaroya Hall in Seattle. It’s crowded and once we park, Christian exits the car and takes me by the hand as we navigate our way through the people to find his family in the auditorium. We walk towards the usher handing out pamphlets and just as we are about to enter the theater, we are met by black sequins and expertly styled blonde hair.

“Christian,” Elena purrs. “I was worried when Carrick and Elliot showed up without you that you wouldn’t make it this evening.”

“What are you doing here?” Christian asks irritably.

“You don’t think I’d miss little Mia’s dance recital?” Elena says with false shock. “She’s my God-Daughter after all.”

Christian frowns at her but doesn’t say anything more to her. Instead, he turns to me.

“Let’s go, Ana,” He says, grabbing me by the forearm and pushing me forward but Elena reaches out to stop him.

“I need to go outside for some fresh air. You should join me,” She says, the sweetness in her tone replaced with the cold demand.

“No thank-you,” He says tightly, cringing at her grip on his chest. She glowers at him but there are too many people around for her to say anything more without making a scene so she lets him go and Christian leads me quickly into the auditorium. We take our seats next to Elliot and Christian begins flipping violently through the ballet program.

“Are you okay?” I ask him, quietly so that Elliot can’t hear.

“It’s fine,” He says, though I can still hear a hint of anger in his voice.

The minutes tick by to the beginning of the show and the seats around us begin to fill in. I can see from the program in Christian’s hand that the ballet will be lengthy so I decide I should use the bathroom before the show begins. I excuse myself and hurry up the aisle, knowing I don’t have much time before the curtain raises. The usher at the door points me in the direction of the restrooms and I make a bee-line to the bathroom doors. The bathrooms are empty and I know this means I’m cutting it pretty close. I wash my hands with hasty fervor and as I reach for the paper towels, the door behind me creaks open and in walks the bitch troll.

“Anastasia,” She greets me and I glare daggers at her in the mirror. Christian’s family isn’t around and now that I know what she’s said about me to Mr. and Mrs. Grey and what she’s done to Christian, there is no need for me to feign politeness anymore. Quite frankly, I find myself wishing bathrooms in opera houses came stocked with baseball bats. She smiles at my less than friendly greeting and I expect her to choose a stall but instead she walks next to me and leans against the sink.

“Can I help you?” I ask, not bothering to hide my loathing as I throw the paper towels in the wastebasket by the sink.

“No, dear, but I can certainly help you,” She says. I roll my eyes and am about to walk away when she grabs my arm and pulls me back.

“Look,” She says. “I don’t know what you think you’re going to get out of this, but I can tell you right now, Christian is not the man for you.”

“Oh really?” I say flatly, completely disinterested in anything she has to say.

“Really. Christian isn’t going to dote on you or buy you flowers on your birthday. Christian is single-minded. He wants to fuck you. That’s it. And really, I don’t blame him. You’re a beautiful girl, Anastasia, but that appeal won’t last forever. You see, you may hold a certain fascination to him now but eventually he will tire of you. His sexual desires are shall we say… exotic?”

“I think perhaps it’s you he’s tired of,” I snap. “Or maybe he’s realizing that you’re just a little too.. well aged for his tastes.”

“Please,” she scoffs. “You think you know Christian’s tastes? I’ve known every one of his darkest desires for years and will do things for him you would never dream of doing.”

“And yet, he still wants me and not you,” I say, and her eyes darken.

“Okay, Cupcake. I’m giving you a chance to make a clean break now before you get hurt. If you don’t want the out, fine, but I’ll…”

“You’ll what? Tell you best friend that you’re fucking and beating her son and have been since he was fifteen years old? Or will you tell your husband that you’ve been having an affair with a man half your age? Because if that’s the case, I’ll help you make the call. Or maybe it would be a better idea to just call the police you fucking pedophile.”

“You little bitch,” She she snarls, moving threateningly towards me but I’m out of time for this horrible woman. I turn around and leave the bathroom, shooting her a look of pure hatred as I exit. When I’m out of the restroom, I take two deep, calming breaths and then squeak through the doors just in time to take my seat as the lights darken and the curtain rises.

“What’s the matter?” Christian whispers. “You’re shaking.”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” I say, trying to cease the tremors of rage that are vibrating through me. I focus on the ballet before me and actually find that the music and fluid dancing has a calming effect. When Mia takes the stage a broad smile sweeps across my face and I turn to look at Christian, who watches his little sister dance with a mixture of pride and love reflected in his eyes. He glances over at me, smiles, and takes my hand on the arm rest. We look back in time to see Mia perform a spectacular leap into the arms of a male ballerina and twirl away with grace not common for a girl of thirteen. Christian squeezes my hand and in that moment, nothing matters. Only that I’m here with him and here to see the love he holds for his little sister.

When we get home that night, Christian, Elliot, and I head to bed early. We all have early morning flights to catch and as much as this week with the Grey’s started out amazing, I have to say that I’m extremely relieved to be going home to Cambridge. I think it will be easier for me to sort through this without being constantly surrounded by Christian’s family or the bitch troll herself.

I snuggle into the covers, thinking of my own bed back in my dorm and how much I’m going to miss this one once I’m back. I really haven’t ever slept in a more comfortable bed.

The next morning, Christian wakes me early and I rush around the room re-packing all of my toiletries and clothes. Grace apologizes over and over again that Gretchen wasn’t there to launder my clothes and pack for me, but I assure her I prefer to do the task myself.

Our flight to Boston leaves an hour or so before Elliot’s plane to San Francisco, so he’s being dropped off with us and we arrive at SEA-TAC with plenty of time to make it through the security gate, though Christian seems to be in a rush to leave.

“I’m going to come to Cambridge soon,” Grace promises Christian as she wraps him in her arms at the security gate. “Until then, don’t be a stranger.”

“Sure, Mom,” Christian says, still clinging to the aloof persona he’s been utilizing since Thanksgiving night. Grace looks hurt by his response but she covers the pain with a weak smile and brushes his cheek with her fingers before turning to me.

“Thank you so much for coming, Anastasia,” She says. “It was such a pleasure to meet you. We’ll have to go to lunch when I come for a visit.”

“Absolutely. I’d love that Mrs. Grey. Thank you for everything. This week really was a lot of fun and I can’t thank you enough for having me for the holiday.”

“You’re more than welcome, dear,” She wraps her arms around me and kisses my hair. When I pull away, she looks fondly at me one last time before moving on to Elliot. Mr. Grey reaches out a hand for me.

“Thank-you for a wonderful week, Ana,” He says. “Grace and I hope to see you again real soon.”

“Thank-you, Mr. Grey,” I say formally, feeling uneasy knowing what he suspects of me. Elliot and I turn to wait for Christian who is crouched down holding Mia tightly. A single tear falls down her cheek as Christian rubs her back and whispers something in her ear.

“You promise you’ll come back?” She sniffs, pulling away to look at him.

“Yes, I’ll only be gone a few weeks. Christmas is going to be here before you know it and I’ll be back for almost a whole month.”

She nods sadly, but is pacified by his promise.

“Love you, Meems,” He says.

“I love you too, Christian.”

“Oh Mia, I can’t leave you!” Elliot wails, stepping forward to give her a hug and making a huge scene with playful dramatics as he pretends to weep at the idea of leaving his baby sister behind.

“Whatever, Elliot,” Mia says, pushing him off of her. “You’re so weird sometimes.”

Elliot kisses her on the cheek and hugs his mom one more time and then we turn to walk through security. Christian turns to follow us without saying a word of good-bye to his father.

Once the employee takes my ticket and ID and sends me through, I turn to wave at the Grey’s one last time and then follow after Christian through the metal detectors. When we make it into the central terminal, we leave Elliot as he heads off for Terminal C and Christian and I make our way to Terminal A.

We sit next to each other in silence in the chairs by our gate while we wait for our flight to board. Christian is reading another one of his textbooks, while I skim through the essay’s I have to turn in tomorrow. I’m shocked I was able to find any time for school work with all of the activities the Grey’s planned for the week. I guess it’s a good thing I’m just not that interested in Sports Center and that’s all Elliot ever has on the TV.

The stewardess calls our section to board the plane so we gather our things and just as I tuck my essay into my carry on, Christian’s phone rings.

“Ros?” He says, answering the call. I turn to look at him and watch the look on his face morph from curiosity, to horror and finally anger.

“What do you mean it fell through?” He demands. “What the fuck happened?”

He paces back and forth practically screaming at his phone, looks up to me, and waves me off, telling me to board the plane. I frown, but turn around and hand the stewardess my plane ticket. There is more room in the plane this time and I’m able to get my carry on in the overhead compartment without any trouble. I take my seat and wait for several minutes before Christian appears. He roughly shoves his bag into the overhead compartment next to mine, then slides into the window seat next to me and pulls out his phone, texting furiously.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Fine,” He snaps, and I feel myself shrink back into my seat at his rebuke. When the cabin doors close and Christian can no longer text on his phone, he shoves it into his pocket and pulls out a book. I guess he doesn’t want to talk about whatever Ros said on the phone.

The tension in the atmosphere around Christian seems to radiate heat, and I feel an overwhelming need for distraction, so once the plane is safely in the air, I plug my headphones into my iPod and drift off to sleep for most of the long flight.

Christian and I are met at the gate by a man in a suit holding a sign that says “GREY”. Christian grabs me by the hand and I follow in his agitated wake, dragging my luggage behind me until we reach another shiny black town car. We slide into the back seat and almost immediately, Christian is back to texting on his phone.

The drive back to Cambridge is dreary and I watch the increasingly familiar scenery pass by through the rain streaked window. I listen to the slosh of the tires on the wet road and the sound of Christian furiously pounding on the keys of his blackberry, something that doesn’t stop until we reach campus.

When the car pulls up to the curb by Gray’s hall, Christian reaches into his pocket and gives the driver a $50 bill. I frown, wondering if I should have offered to tip the driver since he paid for the car and a wave of disappointment in myself crashes over me as I realize this is exactly the kind of behavior that would make Christian’s dad suspect me of using him for money. As the driver pulls our luggage out of the trunk and wheels the cases over to us, I make a silent vow to stop allowing Christian to pay for me.

We walk up the wet, leaf strewn path up to the dorms. Campus is once again buzzing with life but Christian and I seem weirdly removed from it, like we’re walking together in a silent bubble as students mill around us. We walk up the steps to the main entrance of Gray’s Hall and Christian holds the door open for me and I slip inside. The warm, familiar room is a welcome sight and I feel relieved as we make the trek up the stairs to our room.

When we reach the third floor, I pause at the door to my dormitory, waiting expectantly for Christian to say something to me. He unlocks his door and sets his bag on the floor of his room and turns back to look at me, tension clearly etched on his beautiful face.

“Thank-you for taking me home with you,” I tell him. “I had a wonderful break spending time with you and your family.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you came,” He says though there is a detached sort of politeness to his tone. I feel my lips curve into a frown and he reaches out to cradle my cheek in his palm. I look up and his eyes soften the slightest degree.

“You’ll think about it?” He asks quietly.

“Of course I will,” I reply. He nods, caresses my cheek once more and then turns back into his room, closing the door behind him.

I turn to open my own door and as I step into the small room, I feel odd not being greeted by Kate. I’ll have to pick her up from the airport tomorrow morning and I’m excited by the prospect. I’ve missed my best friend and now more than ever I feel like I need her advice and support. I wonder what she’ll say when I give her the skirt, blouse, and shoes I took from her closet back home? I wonder what she’ll say about me going home with Christian? I want to groan as I imagine the inquisition I’ll have to face, and I while I unpack, I practice my answers to the questions I know she’ll ask so I don’t accidentally let the floodgates burst and tell her everything I now know about Christian and Mrs. Lincoln.

When my belongings are folded neatly in their drawers or tossed into the clothes hamper and my toiletries are tucked back in their proper places, I jump in a quick shower and head to bed with my hair still damp, wondering what Christian is doing right this moment across the hall and trying desperately not to think that a simple “Yes” would probably mean I would get to spend the night with him.

What if he wants to do this to you? The voice in the back of my mind says, and a shiver runs up my spine at the thought.

Next Chapter

“You didn’t say the Lincolns were joining us for dinner,” Christian says to his father, trying to hide the panic in his voice.

“I didn’t know. They said they would be out of town,” He says as he starts carving into the turkey. “Don’t look so displeased son, the Lincolns are practically family.”

Christian looks quickly to me, an almost hidden warning in his eyes, and then he sits up straight in his chair and turns to look at his father carving the turkey.

“Aunt Elena!” Mia cries, jumping up from the table as Grace enters the dining room. I turn to look at the woman who enters behind her and have to swallow a bitter taste that fills my mouth.

I’d always imagined Elena Lincoln as looking well past her prime and sort of gaudy, covered from head to toe in heavy jewelry and with too much makeup on her face as she tried to hold on to her youth for far too long.

Unfortunately, the blonde woman who envelops Mia into a warm hug isn’t any of the things I’d pictured her as. She’s wearing a classic black sheath dress tied at the waist that clings tightly to her curvaceous body. Her jewelry is understated, minus the gargantuan diamond on her left hand, and her makeup is clean and natural. Though I’m sure she’s at least as old as Christian’s mom, she looks really good for her age. Had I not known better, I would have thought she was in her mid thirties rather than her late forties/early fifties. She’s beautiful, and I immediately begin to feel inadequate to the woman who has already won Christian. Is that why he hasn’t told her it’s over, because she looks like that?

“Grace, there must be some mistake,” Elena says. “The Mia Grey that I know is a little girl, but this young woman in front of me is all grown up.” Mia grins a huge, mega-watt smile back at her just as Elliot gets up from the table to greet Mrs. Lincoln.

“Elliot!” She cries with joy as she hugs him tightly. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages! It’s rather dull around here without all of your antics. Did you have fun at the game on Sunday, sweetie?”

“Yes,” Elliot responds. “Thank-you for the tickets, you’re the best!”

“Oh, think nothing of it, dear. Besides, it was Andrew’s idea. He knows how much the team means to you.” She gestures to the man at her side, who looks much more his age than Mrs. Lincoln does with his nearly completely silver hair and the beginnings of lines forming in his face. Elliot reaches out to shake Mr. Lincoln’s hand as Elena’s eyes scan the room and fall on first me, then Christian, who is still pointedly looking away from her.

“Christian, I was beginning to worry something happened to you, you’ve been so hard to reach lately,” She says and I think I hear a note of anger beneath her overly sweet tone.

‘Hello, Mrs. Lincoln,” Christian says, finally relenting to look at her.

“He’s been very busy with his studies. A 4.0 GPA and the star of his rowing team,” Grace says proudly. “Oh, forgive me, Christian has brought a friend home with him from Harvard to join us for Thanksgiving. Elena, this is Anastasia Steele, she lives across the hall from Christian’s dormitory and she’s Elliot’s girlfriend’s friend. Ana, this is my very best friend in the whole world, Elena Lincoln.”

I swallow hard and plaster a smile across my face as I stand to shake her hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Lincoln,” I say, attempting to mimic her saccharine tone. She looks down at my outstretched hand, frowning for a minute before her face morphs into a wide smile.

“If you’re a friend of Christian’s then that practically makes you family, my dear.” She says holding her arms out as if she wants to hug me. I look down at Christian, who is completely stoic, take a deep breath, and allow her to wrap her arms around me. She smells faintly of Magnolia and I wonder if the perfume is supposed to cover up the scent of her evil.

Mrs. Lincoln holds me out at arms length and smiles before she releases me to return to my seat. As I take my place next to Christian, she takes a bottle of wine from her husband.

“Elliot,” Grace says. “Would you please bring two chairs from the sitting room for Elena and Andrew.”

Elliot nods and motions for Mia to follow him out of the dining room.

“I’ll grab some extra plates for you,” Grace says, squeezing Elena’s hand but Mrs. Lincoln stops her.

“Oh don’t worry about me, Grace, I can grab them. I need to chill the wine anyway,” She says and then turns to Christian.

“Christian, would you be a dear and help me carry the plates and glasses?” Mrs. Lincoln asks.

“No,” Christian says shortly and his mother looks at him shocked.

“Christian Trevelyan-Grey!” She exclaims.

“It’s alright,” Elena says softly, placing her hand on Grace’s arm and then turning her gaze to me. “Anastasia, would you mind terribly helping me for a moment?”

Before I can even respond, Christian shoves his chair away from the table and storms out of the dining room towards the kitchen. Elena smiles, winks at Grace, and then follows after Christian. I sit nervously in my seat, staring at the door until Elliot and Mia return, each clutching a straight backed chair.

“Here you are, Mr. Lincoln,” Elliot says as he places the seat down next to his.

“Where is Aunt Elena?” Mia asks, placing the other chair next to Grace.

“Wasn’t she in the kitchen?” Grace asks and both Mia and Elliot shake their heads. “Well, I know she’s been trying to get a hold of Christian for awhile. Perhaps they stepped outside to talk for a moment. I’m sure they’ll be back before Carrick has finally managed to get the turkey carved. In fact, Mia will have probably graduated college by the time Carrick gets this turkey carved.”

“This is an art form,” Mr. Grey says defensively as he continues his careful movements, “It takes a skilled hand.”

Grace and Elliot laugh as Mr. Grey continues to slowly sink his knife into the turkey, cutting thin slices away. I watch his actions nervously as I await Christian’s return. Where is he?

“I think I left my curling iron on in the bathroom,” I say meekly to Grace. “I’ll be right back.”

Grace smiles at me and I hurry out of the dining room and look wildly around for Christian and Mrs. Lincoln. Walking towards my bedroom, I notice the door at the opposite end of the hallway is slightly a jar. I peek through the crack in the door and see Christian and Elena standing in a large, finely furnished office.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Elena says, her voice now hard and stern rather than sweet and warm. “I have half a mind to put you in my car and drive you back to my house to beat the ever living shit out of you. The contract isn’t difficult to understand and for someone with a 4.0 from Harvard, it should be pretty fucking easy to get.”

“The contract is bullshit, Elena. Even you know that,” Christian says.

I watch as Mrs. Lincoln raises her hand in the air and slaps Christian, hard, across the face. I feel rage flash through me and I want desperately to get between the evil bitch troll and Christian but I’m frozen in place, unable to move. Christian stares back into Elena’s hard eyes, unmoved by her sudden act of violence. She stares back at him with vicious anger.

“Bullshit?” Elena barks. “No, what’s bullshit is me having to chase your ass around because you’ve suddenly decided you’re allowed to ignore me. You belong to me, remember? Or do you need another reminder?”

“I don’t belong to you, Elena,” He replies. “Not anymore, I’m done.”

“You’re done?” She says, laughing with no humor. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to right now? No, you’re not done. You’re not done until I say you’re done and according to my calculations your agreement continues for at least another thirteen weeks.”

“I’m cutting it short. I’m out, I don’t want to do this with you anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Elena asks, anger radiating from her tone. “Is it that little whore you brought with you? Are you fucking her, Christian?”

“Careful, Elena. I punched the last person who called Ana a whore in the face and I’m well aware of your pain tolerance.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Only if you continue to disrespect Anastasia.”

Again, Mrs. Lincoln reaches her hand back and with all the force she can muster slaps Christian across the face. The blow is enough that he falls slightly off balance, but she catches him and pulls him to her, kissing him hard, possessively, on the mouth. He’s stunned for only a moment and as he pushes her away, her teeth scrape his bottom lip.

“Fuck,” He hisses. “What the fuck are you doing, Elena? My parents are in the other room. Your husband is in the other room.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” She says, her hard voice now dripping with lust and she reaches forward to kiss him again but he steps out of her reach.

“Don’t touch me,” He croaks, his voice breaking as he stares at her with trepidation.

“Excuse me?” Elena says with disbelief. “You will submit to whatever I deem fit and pleasurable. If I want to fuck you on your father’s desk right now, you will take it gratefully.”

“No,” Christian says, the determination returning to his voice. Elena’s eyes are ablaze with fury as she reaches forward and grabs Christian tightly by the face.

“Look here, you little shit. I’ve made you what you are. You think you’d be at Harvard, well on your way to a successful career in business if it weren’t for me? Don’t think I don’t know about what’s been going on with you while you’ve been in Cambridge. Drunken nights, fighting. You’ve been away from me for only a few weeks and you’re already turning back into what you were before I turned your life around. If you walk away from me now, you’ll be out of school and in jail before your sophomore year. Do you want to turn into your crack whore mother?”

Christian shoves her off of him and pushes her back to the desk, pinning her down with his fiery gaze.

“Shut up! Just shut the fuck up! Jesus, what the fuck don’t you get, Elena?” Christian says, the anger in his voice rising. “This is it, I’m done. This thing between us is over. I’m going to be with Anastasia and that’s it. You’re not going to change that.”

“Have you fucked her?” Elena demands, attempting to assert herself as best she can while looking up into Christian’s furious eyes.

“No, I haven’t fucked her.”

Elena lets out a short, harsh laugh as she continues. “I bet you fuck her once and end up crawling back to me on your hands and knees begging for this.”

She stands, reaches out her hand, and grasps Christian so tightly through his pants I wonder if it’s painful. He lets out a harsh breath and she smiles wickedly.

“Mmm, baby. You’re hard for me. You see, Christian, this is what you want, what you need. She won’t give this to you. She can’t give this to you. Only I can give you what you need, Christian.”

“Don’t fucking touch me, Elena,” He spits, shoving her hand roughly away from him. “You have no idea what I fucking need.”

She smiles at him wickedly, pulling at the ties that secure the black dress as she stalks towards him.

“Don’t,” Christian warns, holding his hands out in front of him. Her sneer hardens as she reaches out and Christian backs into a wall.

“Red!” He cries and immediately, Mrs. Lincoln’s hands fall, her cold eyes suddenly full of concern.

“Christian,” She says in a worried, breathy tone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…”

“Don’t,” He says again. “Just don’t. I’m done with this shit. I’m done with you and I’m done following all of your commands.”

“Oh, that’s it,” Elena says, a smile creeping across her face with new understanding. “She’s submissive. Christian Grey wants to be a Dominant.”

Christian says nothing, but continues to glare at her. Elena nods as if his silence confirms what she’s said.

“You’re going to be disappointed, Christian. That little girl out there is far too innocent. What would she want with someone fucked up like you?”

“Fuck off, Elena,” Christian spits at her, but she smiles.

“If you want a chance at playing Dominant Christian, all you had to do was ask. We’ll draw up a new contract and see what you’ve got. I’m up for a new challenge.”

“I don’t want a new challenge and I don’t want you. I want Anastasia, and quite frankly Elena, I’m getting pretty fucking tired of repeating myself.”

Elena’s eyes harden again and her smile tightens into a thin line.

“She won’t make you happy, Christian.”

“What the fuck do you know about happy?” He asks coldly. “I’ve only known her a few months and I can’t even describe to you how happy it’s made me.”

“We’ll see,” She says. “This isn’t over, Christian, not even close. If you think I’m going to let you out of the contract for that little mouse, you haven’t been paying very close attention to your training. I’ll break her if I have to, turn your whole family against her, and you’ll come crawling back to me. I suggest you keep your cock to yourself while you’re back at school, I don’t like to share my toys and even I don’t know what I would do if I found out.”

Christian doesn’t respond, he only glares at her and Mrs. Lincoln turns to leave the room.

In a panic, I turn and sprint to my bedroom, ducking around the corner just in time to avoid being seen by Mrs. Lincoln. I collapse against the wall as I think about everything I’ve just heard. She hit him, a lot. She hit him and he did nothing. She threatened him, threatened me. Who the fuck does this woman think she is? She’s evil, pure evil and I won’t let her do this to him or to us.

I need to tell someone, right? I mean, it’s not right… but Christian didn’t do anything, he just stood there and took it. I’m so confused, none of it makes sense to me except… And then I realize, he’s finally done it. Christian has finally told Mrs. Lincoln that it’s over and that he wants to be with me. I feel a smile begin to cross my face but it disappears as I wonder how much weight Mrs. Lincoln’s threats hold. She’s Grace’s best friend, certainly her opinion on me would hold weight with Christian’s mom. And what’s more disturbing is violence is obviously not something she shies away from. Is Christian safe? Am I?

As I think about everything Ray has taught me about self defense, I resolve to talk to him about it tonight, after everyone has left and demand an explanation. Perhaps he’s simply too scared to tell anyone. Well, I’m not.

I realize as I sit there thinking about what I’ve just heard and seen that I’ve been away from the table for too long so I stand, straighten my skirt, and slowly make my way back out to the dining room. Dinner is being served and I take my seat next to Christian, who looks at me confused, just in time to take the bowl of mashed potatoes from his father. We dish our plates as Grace talks happily with Elena, who has resumed her kind-hearted demeanor.

“You’re a Harvard student as well, Anastasia?” Elena asks sweetly, turning to speak with me. I can feel Grace and Carrick’s eyes on me and I know I can’t respond to the horrible bitch troll the way I would like to, so I summon up all of the strength I have and screw my face into what I hope is a smile.

“Yes,” I answer.

“And what are you studying?” she asks.

“English Literature,” I reply, trying with all my might not to spit my response back at her with all the hatred I’m feeling for this vile woman. Her eyes light up at my answer and she shoots a quick, vindictive glance at Christian, before continuing to speak with me.

“I don’t imagine that’s a very lucrative field,” Elena says, “What do you plan to do with your degree?”

I shrug, unwilling to play into her manipulative little game and her eyes narrow at me. I’d like to tell her that whatever I chose to do would be far more lucrative than playing the trophy wife or abusing men half her age, but the table is silent and I know everyone is listening. I look to see Christian’s reaction and see Mr. Grey is staring at me, a conflicted look on his face as if he’s trying to make a difficult decision. I shy away from his glance, glad Mrs. Robinson’s line of questioning is over, and spend the rest of the meal looking quietly down at the food in front of me, wishing desperately for Ray and sweatpants.

When dinner is over and we’ve all enjoyed generous helpings of pie, we make our way out to the living room to visit some more. I sit quietly next to Christian as we listen to Carrick and Mr. Lincoln speak about business and Mrs. Lincoln and Grace share gossip from their inner circle of friends.

As we sit together with the uncomfortable unanswered questions hanging in the air between us, I feel my phone buzz on the couch next to me and look down to see Ray’s name flashing across the screen.

“Oh my god,” I say, a refreshing wave of joy washing over me. “Excuse me, please. I need to take this.”

Grace smiles and nods and I rush from the room, answering the phone as I go.

“Ray!” I say, feeling tears begin to well in my eyes as the joy of finally speaking with him hits me.

“Hey, Annie! Happy Thanksgiving!” He says.

“You too, Dad. What’s going on? Did you have something good to eat?”

“Same old, same old,” Ray sighs. “I gotta say, I’m missing your turkey today kid. How’s your mom?”

“Ummm, I’m not sure. I haven’t spoken to her lately,” I say.

“You didn’t go home for Thanksgiving? You stayed at school alone?” He asks and I hear the fatherly concern in his voice.

“Not exactly,” I say. “I came home with a friend. I’m spending Thanksgiving with his family.”

“His?” Ray asks, his interest peaked.

“Yes,” I answer. “His name is Christian Grey and it’s been lovely visiting with his family, but it’s very different from what I’m used to. His family is very wealthy and dinner has been a little… uptight.”

“No football?” Ray asks as if I’m admitting the Greys have committed a crime.

“No, Dad. No football. Although they did take me to a Seahawks game last Sunday.”

“Really? That sounds great, Annie. I’d have given anything to have been there for that!”

“Me too, Dad. I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too, Annie. You enjoy yourself this weekend, you’ve been working so hard. That’s what gets me through over here, knowing that this is all for you.”

“Oh, Dad.” I say, the tears coming more forcefully now and I can’t help it, I gasp as I fully start to cry.

“Now Annie, don’t cry. I’m proud of you baby and I just want you to know that. You should be happy, these are the best years of your life.”

“I just wish you were here,” I say again, trying to get the tears under control. “I’ve been so worried about you since I got that letter.”

“I’m doing great,” He says. “We had a little scare and I’ve been praying extra hard to come home safe to you since it happened, but I’m doing fine.”

“Just, be careful,” I plead.

“I will, Annie. Look, you have a wonderful Thanksgiving and you eat plenty of the turkey for me. I’ve got to go, but I just wanted you to know how much I love you and how much I’m thinkin’ of you everyday.”

“I love you too, Daddy,” I weap.

“Keep writin’ me your letters and I’ll call you on Christmas,” He says.

“I will,” I promise.

“I love you Annie, more than you’ll ever know.”

“Me too.”

“Good-bye.”

“Bye,” I say. The phone clicks and I hear nothing else but empty silence coming through the phone. I have to take a moment to cry in the hallway as an overwhelming sense of loneliness bears down on me. Why did I ever agree to this? Why did I ever think it was okay for Ray to make this sacrifice just so I could go to some stupid fancy school? If I’d have just gone to the University of Washington or Washington State University, I’d be having Thanksgiving at home with my dad right now.

“Hey,” Christian’s soft voice says behind me. I turn to face him, tears rolling down my face and he pulls me into a hug, rubbing my back softly until I’ve calmed down and am able to stop the tears.

“Are you okay?” He asks and I nod as I wipe my nose.

“Yeah, It’s just really hard having my Dad away,” I say. He kisses me on the top of my head in a gesture of understanding and in that moment, I’m glad that he’s here with me. No matter how hard it is between us, no matter what obstacles we have to get through, Christian continues to be there for me. He cares and he makes me feel safe and comfortable.

“You smell like my mom,” He says out of the blue. I look up at him confused and he smiles as he stares down into my eyes.

“Your shampoo. It’s the same one my mom uses and it makes you smell like her.”

“It’s the shampoo that’s in the shower in the guest room. I forgot mine at school,” I tell him.

“We’ll have to go get you something different. This makes you infinitely less appealing to me sexually,” He jokes and I laugh, thankful that even in this crushing moment, he’s able to make me laugh.

“We wouldn’t want that,” I say.

“No, we wouldn’t,” He replies. I smile at him and he takes me by the hand and leads me back to the living room where everyone is still sitting.

“Ana, what’s wrong?” Grace asks, noticing the red puffiness in my eyes from crying.

“That was my dad,” I explain. “I’m fine, it’s just hard being away from him so much.”

She nods with concern and says. “Is he having a nice Thanksgiving?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t think they get anything special for dinner. He asked us all to eat lots of turkey for him.”

“Well, that’s just awful,” Grace says. “Being over there, keeping us all here at home safe and not even getting a good meal on Thanksgiving?”

“Your father is in the military?” Elena asks, and when I nod she looks pointedly at Carrick, as if what I’ve said proves her point about something. Crap, what did I miss while I was on the phone?

“Well the next time you speak with him, you tell him we are all very appreciative of his sacrifice,” She continues and I give her a tight smile and roll my eyes as I look away. Mr. Lincoln stands and stretches and then turns to look down at his wife.

“Shall we go?” He asks ,and Mrs. Lincoln nods. Mia rushes off to the sitting room to get their coats while Grace hugs Elena good-bye. Elena also hugs Mia and Elliot before turning to Christian. He reluctantly allows her to wrap her arms around him and when she pulls away, she hides a sharp look behind a fake smile.

“Don’t be a stranger, Christian,” She says, but he doesn’t say anything. Grace gives him a stern look as Elena and Mr. Lincoln turn to leave. When the door closes behind them, Elliot flops across the couch and turns the TV to the Thursday night game.

“Walk with me?” Christian asks, looking down at me and I nod. He leads me into the expansive back yard and down to the boat house on the water. We take the stairs that lead up to the loft and I sit on the couch pushed against the far wall, looking at him expectantly.

“I’ve done it,” He says after pacing a few times. “I told her it’s over.”

“I know,” I tell him.

“You know?”

“I heard your conversation,” I say hesitantly and he stands frozen, looking down at me with apprehension.

“What did you hear?” he asks.

“A lot that doesn’t make a lot of sense,” I admit. “And I saw her hit you.”

He tenses as he stares down at me worried either about my reaction or what he’s about to tell me.

“What’s the contract?” I ask, pressing him for answers. He looks down at me, conflicted until I see determination cross his eyes and he comes to sit next to me on the couch.

“Elena and I have… had,” He corrects himself and then reaffirms, “Had an agreement. I would do everything she asked me to do, follow her instructions to the letter, and she would reward me… sexually.”

“And if you didn’t do what she asked?”

His eyes darken and I know the answer.

“She’d hit you,” I say for him.

“Sometimes… if I was lucky.” He says. “Sometimes it would be worse.”

“Why haven’t you told anyone?” I ask, shocked and he sighs.

“Because… I liked it, Anastasia.”

“What?” I ask, and he takes a deep breath as he explains.

“Look, I had a rough start in life and it affected me, it still does. I have a difficult time being touched. You can’t imagine what it was like for me, fifteen years old, horny as hell but unable to let anyone touch me. I was spiraling out of control, choosing methods of coping that were destructive and unhealthy. Then one day Elena introduced me to her lifestyle. The pain, the violence… it was the only contact I understood and could handle. She was able to please me sexually when no one else could. I like the pain, Anastasia. It’s the only thing I’ve ever known.”

“So… you’re a masochist?” I ask and he frowns.

“Maybe, I don’t think so. Elena is a Domme and I was her Submissive. It was a sexual relationship that worked in the past and now it doesn’t.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because I met you,” He says. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. I’ve never been interested in a relationship, in a girlfriend, until I met you.”

“Why me?”

“I don’t know. I’ve spent weeks, months even, trying to figure it out but in the end, it doesn’t matter what it is, only that it is. I want you, Anastasia. I want you to be mine and only mine.”

He leans over to kiss me but I stop him as I feel my stomach roil. Everything he’s just told me, knowing that his lips where just on the bitch troll’s…. it’s too much for right now. I need time to absorb this, to really know what it means and how I feel.

“Ana?” He asks, looking down at me with concern.

“I can’t,” I whisper. He face changes from worry to panic.

“You said that if I told her, if I broke it off, we’d be together,” He says.

“This is a lot, Christian. It’s too much and it’s really kind of fucked up. I need some time to know how I feel about this.”

I watch his face crinkle with pain as I rebuke him but he nods. I lean over and kiss him gently on the cheek and hold my hand out for him to lead him back to the house. We walk inside and sit down but Christian’s dad comes out of the kitchen in that moment and rests his hand on Christian’s shoulder.

“Son, will you come speak with me in private for a moment?” He asks. Christian looks at his Dad confused but nods his head and gets up to follow him to the study I saw him talking to Mrs. Lincoln in earlier. Grace, rushes out of the kitchen after them, drying her hands with a hand towel as he goes. I stare after them, wondering what’s going on, and Elliot must see the concern in my expression because he actually diverts his attention away from the TV to speak to me.

“My dad thinks you’re after Christian for his money,” He says, not bothering to sugar coat it.

“What?” I ask, almost insulted by the insinuation. I’ve never considered Christian’s money once whenever I’ve thought about us together. In fact, most of the time, it makes me feel uncomfortable that we’re in such different situations financially.

“He’s very protective,” Elliot explains. “Especially of Christian. You’re the first girl he’s ever let close to him and my dad thinks Christian might be a little… naive.”

“I have no interest in his money,” I say harshly and Elliot shrugs.

“I know, and I said that, but Dad feels he needs to talk to Christian. You can listen outside the study if you want, I would if I hadn’t already gotten the gist of it while you two were out back, and that’s what Mia and I did when Christian got in trouble before he went to school.”

I hesitate on the couch and as Elliot narrows his eyes at me, almost daring me to go eavesdrop, I roll my eyes and get up from the couch, walking towards the study and away from Elliot’s satisfied smile. I creep into the hallway, feeling extraordinarily guilty for listening to this private moment between Christian and his parents, but knowing how important it is to me to know how Christian will react to what they say.

“And the fighting?” Mr. Grey asks. “Elliot told us you were in a fight on Halloween.”

“Ana’s ex-boyfriend called her a whore. He needed to get hit in the face,” Christian explains with a passe shrug.

“Christian…” Carrick says. “We’ve said again and again, violence is neither acceptable or constructive. Your mother and I are concerned. You’ve been doing so well and now you’re back to drinking and fighting, and from our perspective the common denominator is Anastasia.”

“Ana has nothing to do with the drinking. It’s been stressful. I had one bad night and I’m sorry. I learned my lesson. She was the one who took care of me that night, not the one encouraging me to drink.”

“Carrick,” Grace says gently. “Ana seems like a lovely girl. Perhaps, you’re being a little harsh.”

“They’re always lovely, Grace,” Carrick responds. “Especially when they find out how many zeros are attached to the end of your trust fund.”

“What are you saying?” Christian asks angrily.

“I’m saying this all seems very convenient,” Carrick answers. “A girl takes on an enormous amount of debt to go to a school her parents can’t afford and then she happens to cozy up to a boy with a hefty trust fund. I’m saying you need to be wary, Christian. People will take advantage of you because of your privilege.”

“You don’t think I understand that there are people out there who will take advantage of me?” He growls at his father. “You don’t think I know how horrible people really are? I think I know that better than either of you and if either of you need a reminder of that, I’ll show you the scars that remind me everyday about the shitty fucking people in this world.”

“Christian, language!” Grace scolds, though her eyes begin to water with pain. Carrick rests his hand on her leg reassuringly, as if to say let it go.

“Mrs. Lincoln expressed her own concern after dinner tonight,” Carrick says calmly. “It’s all a little suspicious.”

“I bet she did, but Mrs. Lincoln doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about. She doesn’t even know Ana and neither do you.”

“Christian…” Grace says diplomatically but he cuts her off.

“No, I’m not going to sit here and listen to this shit. Anastasia isn’t here because of my money. Just because someone wasn’t given the same opportunities as you were, as I was, doesn’t mean they’re a bad person, and if you can’t accept that, if you can’t accept Anastasia, then you can spend the next holiday without me.”

“Christian, please understand… we’re just trying to protect you,” Carrick says, attempting to call Christian back as he walks to the door.

“I asked her to be my girlfriend,” Christian says in a low voice. “I’ve told her that I want to be with her and she said no. How can she be using me for my money if she said no?”

“Christian…” Grace again begins sympathetically, but he holds his hand up to stop her and turns for the door. I turn around and sprint through the entrance hall to the living room before Christian catches me eavesdropping and I settle down on the couch, trying to look casual staring at the TV as Elliot flips through the channels. He looks over at me and then smiles and once before returning his gaze to the TV.

“What?” I ask, irritated by his grin.

“Now I ain’t sayin’ she a gold digger,” He sings, quoting Kanye West.

“Shut up, Elliot,” I say, and he laughs as Christian rounds the stairs into the living room and flops angrily down on the couch next to me.

Next Chapter

 

I wake up in the morning feeling extremely well rested. The alarm clock on the side table tells me it’s 07:30 AM, so I climb out of the pillowy bed and jump in a quick shower. Grace has stocked the guest room well, which comes in handy when I realize I forgot to put shampoo in my toiletries bag. The shampoo in the shower smells incredible and produces a rich, luxurious lather. I don’t recognize the bottle as any of the brands you find on the shelves at the drugstore so I wonder if she’s gotten if from a salon.

When I’m finished showering, I quickly blow dry my hair with the hair dryer I find under the sink, brush my teeth and get dressed. I tidy up the bathroom, make my bed again and unplug my phone from the charger by the window. There is a text from Christian waiting for me from about five minutes ago.

 

Good-morning, Sleeping Beauty. We’re having breakfast in the dining room, come join us.

 

I slip my phone into my pocket and take the complicated journey through the big house to the dining room.

“Good-morning, Ana!” Grace says brightly as I walk in to see Christian’s entire family seated around the table. She’s dressed in a fluffy lilac colored robe with silky, taupe pajama bottoms peaking out underneath. In fact, the whole lot of them are in PJs, except Christian who is wearing khakis and a navy blue button down shirt.

I take a seat next to Elliot, who looks as though he’s trying not to fall asleep in his oatmeal.

“Please, help yourself, Ana. We have a long day ahead of us. You’ll need your energy,” Grace says. She gestures to the food spread out over the table and I smile gratefully and reach out for a blueberry muffin. There is some orange juice in a carafe in front of me so I fill my glass and begin picking at the crumbly muffin on my plate. It’s delicious.

I look up at Christian as I pop a bite into my mouth. He’s staring at me but I can’t read his expression. He looks as though he’s lost in thought gazing at me while I eat. It makes me slightly self conscious, but fortunately, Elliot distracts his focus.

“What are we doing today anyway?” Elliot asks. “Whatever it is we have to be back here before one. I’m not missing kickoff.”

“Oh we’ll definitely be out of the house at one,” Grace says slyly, and she smiles at Carrick.

“Well then count me out. You guys have fun doing whatever it is your doing but I’m not missing the game.”

“Suit yourself then,” Grace says. “You watch the game here on TV and we’ll watch it live at the stadium in Seattle.”

“What?” Elliot cries, knocking over his glass of milk as he gestures wildly in surprise. He grabs a napkin and begins dabbing the spill while staring expectantly at his parents.

“Yes,” Carrick says. “Linc has kindly offered his company’s box seats to our family for today’s game as a welcome home surprise for you kids.”

“We’re going to spend the day with the Lincoln’s?” Christian asks, and I can hear a note of panic in his voice as his eyes shift nervously to me and then back to his father.

“No,” Grace replies regretfully. “Andrew had some business to take care of down in California so he and Elena will be out of town this week. He didn’t want the tickets to go to waste so their driver will be bringing the tickets over sometime this morning.”

Christian visibly relaxes and I realize that I feel tension leave my body as well. For everything I know about Elena Lincoln, I don’t want to meet her, much less spend the day with her in front of Christian’s family.

“I wouldn’t want them to go to waste either,” Elliot says, rubbing his hands together excitedly. He shoves a much too large spoonful of his oatmeal in his mouth and begins to chew furiously.

“Come on, eat up, we’ve got a game to catch,” He continues, although its very difficult to understand him through the large amount of oatmeal he’s still struggling to chew. When he swallows, he reaches over to Mia’s glass of orange juice, drains it and bolts away from the table. Mia looks indignantly after him as he practically skips to the kitchen.

“Do you like football?” Grace asks me while she pours Mia another glass of juice.

“Yes,” I say. “My step-father follows all kinds of sports so I grew up on Seattle teams.”

“Good,” She says brightly. “Did you bring any kind of Seahawks clothing that you could wear to the game?”

“No, I don’t think I have any, even at home.” I say.

“Well, I”ll have to take you up to my closet after breakfast and we’ll see if we can find you something,” She says, and I nod to her with a smile.

Christian glances between his mother and I and I think I see a small smile begin to curl at the corner of his mouth. Gretchen appears through the door to the kitchen to clear our plates just as the doorbell rings.

“That must be the tickets,” Carrick says, pushing away from the table and hurrying out to the front door. I hand Gretchen my empty plate and Grace stands and holds out her hand for me. I take it and she leads me to the stairs in the entryway, Mia following closely behind us.

“That’s my room,” Mia says, pointing to the first door on the left as we come up the stairs, “And that’s Christian’s room. It used to be Elliot’s room when I was little, but Christian had to switch with him cause he was sneaking out at night, so he had to take the room closest to Mom and Dad.”

Grace glances down at Mia reproachfully but Mia just shrugs and hurries down to push open the door at the end of the hall. Grace and Carrick’s room is huge, too big for a bedroom, I think. There is a giant wooden canopy bed at the center of the room, a small office space in the back corner and a reading nook close to the door. Grace leads me into cavernous walk in closet and then to the back corner where several jerseys, t-shirts and sweatshirts with the familiar Seahawks logo are hanging.

“Elliot’s just always been such a fan, I’m always picking up things to wear so we can watch the games together on Sundays,” Grace explains as she sorts through the clothes. “How about this one?”

She holds up a dark blue jersey with the number 12 on the front and the word “FAN” written across the back in bold white letters.

“I think that looks great,” I say gratefully as I slip it on. It fits rather well. “Thank-you, Grace.”

“Oh don’t mention it, dear. I’m just so happy to meet you. I don’t know if you realize, but Christian has never brought a girlfriend home to meet the family.” Her eyes twinkle as she sets the bait out in front of me, willing me to admit Christian and I are dating.

“Oh, Christian isn’t my boyfriend. We’re just good friends. We live across the hall from one another and he’s in a couple of my classes,” I say, feeling my face burn bright red.

“I see,” She says, although there is something behind her eyes that doesn’t change despite my refutation of her assumption. “Is that how you met then, in your dormitory?”

“Yes,” I tell her. “And then he just seemed to pop up wherever I went. I work in the library and he studies there a lot.”

“But you two are fairly close?”

“Well, it’s kind of hard to get close to Christian. He seems fairly guarded but yes, I’d say we’re close. We’re good friends,” I explain hesitantly.

“And a wonderful friend you are, I’m glad he’s met you,” She says with a smile.

“Do you want to come to my room and help me pick out what to wear today, Ana?” Mia asks.

“Sure,” I tell her and then smile at Grace as we turn to leave.

Mia’s room is pink. Very pink. Her walls are painted the color of bubblegum, her bedding is deep fuchsia, and there is a large, fluffy pink rug covering the majority of the floor.

She disappears into her closet and then reappears with a heap of Seahawks gear, which she throws onto the bed. She insists on trying each and every piece on for me and I entertain her by giving careful criticism of each outfit she models for me. In the end, she decides on an identical jersey to the one I’m wearing, happily insisting we will be twins today.

She hooks her arm through mine and leads me back down the stairs to the living room where Christian and Elliot are watching pre-game shows.

About an hour and a half before kick off, we all pile into the Grey’s SUV and make the short drive into Seattle. When we arrive at Qwest Field, Carrick and Grace take Mia to our seats, while Elliot drags us into the Pro Shop. Christian and I look around at the small trinkets in glass cases and on shelves while Elliot goes wild, buying hats, t-shirts, and a Hasselbeck jersey. Christian buys some face tattoos for Mia, and then we head into the stadium.

The game is exciting as we go into halftime tied but end the game on top 24-19. Elliot and Carrick spend the entire game jumping up and down, screaming at the field, and when time is up and the Seahawks win, they hug each other quickly, perform some kind of handshake that looks as though they’ve done a thousand times before, and scream some more. By the time we leave the stadium, they’re both hoarse.

We take a taxi from the stadium down to the docks where Carrick buys us all tickets on a ferry to Bremerton. We’re going to dinner at a restaurant called Anthony’s and as we set sail, I make my way out to the open deck with Christian to watch the sun set over over the sound.

By the time we arrive back at the Grey’s house in Bellevue that night, we’re all exhausted. Mrs. Grey has work the next day, and Mia has to go to school, so they head immediately for bed. Elliot, Christian and I decide to stay up a little later to watch a movie. I sit cross legged in front of the screen next to Christian but about halfway through the movie, Christian adjusts some pillows to lay down on, pulls the blanket over the back of the couch down to cover him, and gestures for me to lay next to him. I hesitate for a moment, knowing we have so much to work out still, but eventually give into the urge to be as close to him as possible.

Near the end of the movie, I’m feeling warm and content, wishing the movie would never end so I would never have to leave Christian’s arms. Today has been so incredible, and not because of the game or because of dinner across the sound, but because I’ve spent the entire day, drama free, with Christian. There’s something I feel being around him that I’ve never felt before. Like everything is finally right, like I’m where I’m supposed to be.

The credits for the movie begin to roll and the music overlaying the text is interrupted by the sound of Elliot snoring on the other side of the sectional.

Christian is stroking my hair and I wonder when he’s going to break up our sweet cuddle. His arm moves and I think he’s going to pull the blanket off of us to get up, but instead his fingers brush my cheek and he pulls my face around so that I’m looking at him. He traces the lines of my face with his fingertips, lightly touching the soft curve of my lips, and then he leans down to kiss me. I close my eyes and feel a tingle of pleasure run through my body as his warm lips touch mine. Unlike the other kisses we’ve shared, which were hard and fueled by his unbridled passion, this kiss is sweet and tender. There is no urgency, there is no tension, there is only affection and desire.

When I don’t pull away from the kiss, even after several seconds, he lifts his body up off the couch, not breaking our precious point of contact, and rolls me onto my back so that I’m beneath him. He captures my wrists and pulls them gently above my head, but holds them firmly in place. His tongue explores my mouth and I groan with deep desire. He momentarily deepens the kiss and then stops, pulling away to look at me.

“I was going to tell her this week,” He says. “I thought I would see her at some point.”

“And now she’s out of town,” I finish for him, and he nods.

“Then call her,” I plead, staring up at him. He shakes his head, rolls off of me, and begins pacing around the room. He looks anxiously at Elliot still sleeping on the other side of the couch, and then reaches a hand out for me, and leads me to the guest bedroom where I’m staying. Closing the door as quietly as possible behind us, he joins me on the bed and takes my hand. He looks so torn as if he is trying to decide what to say or whether or not to say anything at all.

“I don’t understand,” I tell him honestly. “You told me you wanted me to meet your mother and I have. I’m spending the whole week with your family, surely by the end of the week they’ll know who I am. Just call her.”

“It’s not that simple, Anastasia,” He says, his voice hardening slightly. “There is a lot of… uh, history between Elena and I, a lot of things that will have to be worked out in order for us to separate. I need to speak with her in person.”

A horrible sensation of doubt runs over me as part of me begins to think that this will never end. That he doesn’t want to tell her and that I’m going to be waiting forever.

“Whatever you say, Christian,” I say, looking down at my fingers. I wish he would leave, I just don’t want to look at him right now. I wonder if he sees that in my posture or something because he lets go of my hand and stands.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” He says, and when I nod he turns to leave.

“I’m going to tell her, Anastasia.” He says, pausing at the door. I look at him, wondering if my expression looks as blank as his empty promise makes me feel. I watch him close the door and get up to get ready to go to sleep. As I lie there in the wonderfully comfortable bed, I wonder if he ever will tell Elena it’s over or if he’s just stringing me along. Part of me is starting to believe that, but another part of me tells me that he wouldn’t have invited me to spend Thanksgiving with his family if he wasn’t serious. I battle with myself until I fall asleep, and even as I drift off into unconsciousness, I not that my lips still feel electrified by Christian’s kiss.

“Hey,” A soft voice says to me and I stir awake, surprised by how bright the room around me is. I blink through the nearly blinding sunlight to see Christian standing over me.

“You’ve slept in,” He tells me. “It’s nearly ten o’clock. My father wants to take us out on the boat. Get dressed so you can get some breakfast before we head out.”

I nod sleepily and pull back the heavy duvet to get out of bed. Christian leaves the room as I take a short but invigorating shower to wake up, blow dry my hair, and get dressed. I choose clothes warmer than is probably necessary as I figure it will be chilly out on the water, and I’m not a big fan of cold. I also decide to take my copy of Mrs. Dalloway, just in case we spend an extended amount of time out on the lake and I need something to distract myself.

When I come out to the living room, Elliot, Carrick, and Christian are all watching the news on the couch rather than eating breakfast in the dining room.

‘There are some croissants on the breakfast bar in the kitchen,” Christian says, glancing at me over his shoulder. I smile at him and then make my way into the kitchen where I find a bowl overfilled with large, buttery croissants. I take one and eat it quickly then return to the living room.

“All set?” Carrick says jovially, clapping his hands together as he stands from the couch.

“Yes,” I say. “I’m sorry if I kept you waiting.”

“Oh not at all,” Carrick says. “This is the perfect time to sail.”

Christian, Elliot and I follow Carrick from the living room back into the kitchen and then out the door. The back yard is a large, beautifully landscaped, lush lawn that slopes softly down towards Lake Washington. Christian takes my hand as we walk across slate stepping stones to a boathouse down on the water. Inside, past a small sitting room and a skinny staircase that leads to a loft, there is a long, sleek looking sailboat bobbing slightly in the hole in the floor. Christian holds my hand to steady me as I climb into the boat with Mr. Grey and then goes to the large, glass, garage-style door blocking the path of the boat and opens it with Elliot’s help. When the door is open, they too climb into the boat, each sitting on opposite sides from one another. Carrick pushes a button next to the steering wheel and I hear the sound of a motor start and we begin to pull forward through the water.

Once we’re away from the shallows by the boathouse, Carrick cuts the engine and moves to the back of the boat to pull the propeller out of the water. Meanwhile, Christian and Elliot unfurl the sail and begin pulling ropes and tying them off until the sail is taught enough to catch the wind and take us further into the lake. I sit next to Christian on what he tells me is the Port side of the boat and we sail around the lake for about an hour or so. The November air is quite chilly out here, and I’m glad I’ve brought warm clothes, but the water is so blue and the surrounding hills covered in evergreens are so beautiful that I find myself not caring. We sail down the lake towards Renton and I gasp as we move past the trees and Mount Rainier comes into view.

“I think this is a good spot!” Carrick says, and he drops anchor while Elliot and Christian lower the sail. Christian, Elliot, and Carrick pull out poles and settle in for an afternoon of fishing and I lay out on a bench to read. It’s such a relaxing afternoon, I’m almost sad when Carrick pulls up the anchor to start heading back. Elliot and Christian pack the fish they caught into a cooler with ice as Carrick tugs on the sails and begins steering us back to Bellevue

“Did you bring home enough for all of us?” Grace asks as Elliot and Christian haul the cooler through the back door and into the kitchen.

“Elliot had a great day. Out caught Christian and I two to one,” Carrick says, kissing Grace on the cheek.

“Well, go wash up. I’ll have Gretchen clean these and we’ll have a fish fry tonight.” She says. I follow Christian and Elliot out of the kitchen and disappear into my room where I wash my hands thoroughly with warm water. I hadn’t realized on the boat how numb my fingers were.

When I return to the kitchen where Grace, Elliot and Carrick are converged, Grace hands me a hot mug of water and a tea bag.

“Christian said you prefer bag out,” She says sweetly and I smile at her and take the cup gratefully.

“Where is Christian?” I ask, and she motions to the dining room with her head. I walk across the kitchen to peak through the door and see Christian seated at the dining room table with Mia. She’s pouring over a text book and Christian is very patiently helping her with her homework. A ridiculous smile creeps across my face as I witness the sweet moment between Christian and his little sister and I remember the first time he told me about her. The warmth in his voice and the softening in his eyes. He looks up and sees me staring at him and he raises an eyebrow at me and then looks back at Mia, who asks him a question.

Later that night, rather than watch a movie together we all sit in the living room, a fire blazing merrily beneath the hearth, and tell stories. Grace eventually convinces Mia and Christian to play music for us and we move to the formal sitting room off the left side of the entrance hall to the grand piano. Mia unpacks her Cello and they play three pieces for us. I’m impressed. They play together perfectly.

When Mr. and Mrs. Grey and Mia go to bed that night, Elliot suggests we all head out to the hot tub in the Grey’s back yard.

“I don’t have a swim suit,” I tell him and he raises his eyebrows suggestively at me until Christian slugs him in the arm.

“I’ll go see if you can borrow one of Mom’s,” Christian says and he returns a few moments later with a dark blue two piece swimsuit. I roll my eyes as I take it and disappear into my bathroom, wrapping myself in one of the oversized fluffy towels tucked away in the closet by my shower.

Elliot leads the way through the back yard to a large in ground pool, which is covered for the winter, but the hot tub next to it with the infinity edge is open and inviting. We sink into the hot water and talk for about 20 minutes before Elliot decides he wants to play a game of “Never have I ever”. He jumps out of the hot tub, disappears into the house and returns with three bottles of beer before dipping back into the water with Christian and I.

“I don’t think we should be drinking at Mom and Dad’s house,” Christian says, frowning as Elliot hands him a beer.

“Wouldn’t be your first time,” Elliot replies as he hands a bottle to me. Christian glares at him and shoots an anxious look back towards the house before gripping tightly to the aluminum cap and twisting it off. I can’t get mine off so I hand it to him and he opens mine for me as well.

“Okay,” Elliot says. “Never have I ever…..attended an Ivy League school.”

Christian and I roll our eyes but take a small drink of beer. Mmm, the combination of cold beer and the hot water is not too bad.

“Never have I ever dated two girls at the same time,” Christian says.

“That’s not fair, you’ve never dated one girl,” Elliot says as he takes a deep drink from his bottle.

“What?” I ask sharply, turning to glare at Elliot.

“It was in High School!” He says defensively, but I don’t relax until Christian confirms the story. Elliot assures me that part of his is all in the past and I tell him it better be because Kate will have his balls. We go a couple more rounds, Christian and Elliot each asking very pointed questions to one another until Christian turns to me.

“Never have I ever had sex with Carter Reed,” He says, his eyes baring into me. I stare back at him, swirling my finger over the top of my beer. He waits for about five seconds for me to take a drink and then smiles.

“Nice,” He says under his breath and I roll my eyes.

“Never have I ever lied to a girl about doing something I repeatedly promised I would do,” I say, staring single-mindedly at Christian but he also refrains from taking a drink. I purse my lips and Elliot glances between us.

“Never have I ever secretly dated someone in this hot tub and refused to tell anyone making it super awkward for everyone around them,” Elliot says pointedly and Christian and I laugh but don’t take a drink.

“Never have I ever been driven home by police on prom night because I was caught having sex in a parking lot,” Christian says. Elliot drains his bottle and I laugh. The game ends as I become much more interested in that story and as Elliot tells us what happened, Christian fills in the blanks that Elliot purposefully leaves out. My attention is distracted as I see a light by the edge of the hot tub and notice Christian’s phone is ringing. He and Elliot seem to be oblivious to it and while they laugh and joke. I wonder if it’s Mrs. Lincoln.

The rest of the week goes by fairly quickly as it seems that every day the Grey’s have something planned for us to do. Part of me wonders if it’s all a ploy to entice Christian to come home more.

On Tuesday, Grace announces that she plans give her entire staff Thanksgiving off and she will make Thanksgiving dinner on her own. Then she tells us that she’s never actually made a Thanksgiving dinner and so I volunteer to help. I make a list of all the things that I need from the grocery store and after Grace gets home from work on Wednesday, She, Mia and I head out on a girls shopping trip.

Before we get the groceries, Grace stops in a department store in downtown Bellevue to buy Mia a new dress to wear on Thursday, confirming my fears that Christian’s family does indeed dress up for Thanksgiving dinner. We head to the grocery store and spend over an hour combing the aisles for all of the ingredients we’ll need the next day. Thankfully, we are able to buy a large enough fresh turkey that doesn’t have to be thawed.

When we get home, I find a large drink cooler in the Grey’s garage and fill it half full with my special salt, garlic and brown sugar brine and ice. I submerge the turkey in the liquid, cover it, and set it aside to soak for the night. Mia and I make both a pumpkin and an apple pie for tomorrow’s dessert and since we’re taking up all the space in the kitchen, Carrick orders us all pizza for dinner.

When we’ve eaten our fill of pizza and the pies are cooling on the racks in the kitchen, I go to find Christian who is playing the piano in the formal sitting room.

“Will you drive me over to Kate’s?” I ask. He stops playing and looks at me worriedly.

“Why? What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Oh…nothing, I just don’t have anything to wear tomorrow so I thought I could go look through her closet.”

“Do you want to go out and buy something?”

“No, I’m sure she’ll have something and she doesn’t live far, just over on Mercer Island.”

“Okay, just let me grab some keys,” Christian says. He stands from the piano and I follow him out to the living room.

“Dad, can I borrow your keys. I’m going to drive Ana over to Katherine’s house so she can get some clothes for tomorrow,” He says.

“Yes, they’re on the hook in the pantry,” Mr. Grey says, without looking up from the paper that he’s reading. Christian disappears back into the kitchen while Elliot sits up, looking away from the UFC fight he’s watching.

“You’re going to Kate’s?” He asks.

“She isn’t there, Elliot. I’m just going to be in and out,” I tell him.

“I still want to go,” He says, jumping up. I shake my head at his excitement but wait for him to get his shoes on before we go to meet Christian in the garage. It’s only a twenty minute drive to Kate’s house from where Christian lives and when we pull into the driveway, I think to myself how strange the house looks with dark windows. Kate’s house was always a very warm place to me. When she moved here from Montesano when we were nine, we vowed to stay best friends forever and I’ve spent every moment here I could since then: long weekends, school holidays, even weeks at a time over summer break.

I get out of the car and punch the four digit code into the control next to the garage and the door rumbles to life as it raises slowly into the air. When I open the door from the garage to the house, we are met with a loud beeping noise.

“What is that?” Elliot asks, panicked.

“It’s the alarm,” I say. “Wait here, I’ll turn it off.”

I go to the alarm in the kitchen, plug Kate’s birthday into the number pad and the red light on the alarm turns blue and the beeping stops.

“Kate’s room is upstairs,” I call back to Elliot and Christian, and they follow wearily after me. I flip lights on as we go, trying desperately to avoid tripping over the eclectic mix of furniture Kate’s mom has strewn throughout the house.

When we get to Kate’s room at the top of the stairs, I flip on the light and stare nostalgically around the perfectly tidy room. The same lavender quilt lies over her bed and her walls are still painted the bright plum color as the last time I was here. If Mia’s room is pink, then Kate’s room is purple. I open the door to her closet and begin sorting through the dozens of outfits hanging neatly on hangers. Elliot begins snooping around the room, exploring this unknown territory that is filled with secrets about Kate.

“What is this?” Christian asks, and I look over to see him holding a picture of Kate and I at the fair when we were thirteen.

“Just embarrassing relics from my childhood,” I say, turning back to sorting through the closet. I pull out a black, high waisted pencil skirt and a flowy white chiffon blouse. Satisfied with my choice, I look down at Kate’s shoes for a pair of black pumps that aren’t on a sky high platform.

“What are you doing?” Christian asks as I pick up a pair of shoes. I turn to look at him but he isn’t speaking to me, he’s looking down at Elliot, who is sprawled across Kate’s bed hugging her pillow closely to him.

“It smells like her,” Elliot says dreamily.

“Creepy, Elliot,” I say with a laugh as I close the closet door behind me. He straightens out the wrinkles in Kate’s bed as we turn to leave and then follows after us sulking. I re-set the alarm in the kitchen and we all hurry through the garage door.

“I think I hate the Bahamas,” He says as we climb into Mr. Grey’s car. Christian rolls his eyes and pulls out on the street heading back to Bellevue.

The next morning, I set my alarm extra early so that I can be awake to put the turkey in the oven. I roll out of bed and walk out to the kitchen, still dressed in my pajamas. There is a dim light on in the living room and when I walk past I see Christian sitting on the couch reading through another book with the words World Economy written in bold face across the front. He looks up as I walk into the living room and creases his brow when he sees me.

“Anastasia, why are you up at this hour?” He asks.

“I need to get started on dinner if we’re going to eat by one,” I tell him. He slips a bookmark into his book and follows after me.

“Can I help you with anything?” He asks and I nod my head.

“The turkey is in the drink cooler in the garage, can you bring the cooler in here?” He nods and disappears to the garage while I pre-heat the oven to 250 degrees and search for a roasting pan. When I find it, I pull the butter we bought yesterday and celery, onions and carrots out of the fridge. When Christian returns with the cooler, I’m slicing the vegetables into uniform pieces. He watches me cut the vegetables patiently and when I’m finished we both wash our hands and he helps me pull the 20 lb turkey out of the brine and place it into the roasting pan. I cut thin slices into the turkey’s skin and stuff butter into the cut and then fill the turkey with more butter and the sliced vegetables. A quick dusting of salt, pepper, sage and garlic and I cover the turkey with aluminum foil and slide it into the pre-heated oven.

“Now what?” Christian asks.

“Now, I’m going to go take a shower,” I tell him.

“Do you need help with that too?” He asks suggestively. I roll my eyes and turn back towards my room.

When I’m clean, I take a little extra time to look presentable. There is a curling iron under the sink and I try my best to mimic the motions I’ve seen Kate do a million times to curl her hair. It doesn’t come out as perfect as Kate’s normally does but there is extra volume and shape to my hair when I’m finished and I’m satisfied by the result. Luckily the mascara and lip gloss Kate gave me at the beginning of the year is stuffed into the bottom of my toiletries bag so I carefully apply them before slipping into the outfit I took from Kate’s closet yesterday.

The Grey’s are all in the dining room, snacking on croissants, when I emerge into the kitchen after I’m finished getting ready. They’ve all dressed up and I’m glad I had the foresight to have Christian drive me over to Kate’s.

“You look lovely, dear!” Grace says kindly as I meet her in the kitchen. “What do we get started on?”

“We can prep the dressing and cook the cranberries.” I tell her. “I think this would be a good place for Elliot, Christian, and Mia to help if they wanted to.”

Grace nods her head and then pokes her head out to the living room.

“Boys!” She calls. “Get your sister and come in here to help for a minute.”

While I pull the cranberries, sugar, dried fruit and oranges out of the fridge, Elliot, Christian, and Mia appear behind me. I hand them two loaves of white bread and tell them to begin toasting it in the toaster. Christian and Elliot begin the task while Mia helps me zest the orange and Grace washes the cranberries in the sink. I stew together the ingredients for the Cranberry sauce and while Christian and Elliot tear the newly toasted bread into bite sized pieces.

Over the next few hours, we’ve made dressing, cranberry sauce, roasted green beans with onions and bacon, mashed potatoes and gravy, turkey, and a creamy corn casserole that I’m famous for in my family. Christian and Elliot set the table in the dining room while Grace, Mia, and I lay the food out over the pristine white tablecloth. Carrick pulls out a long fork and carving knife, and just as we’ve all sat down to enjoy the meal, the doorbell rings.

“Who could that be?” Grace asks, taking the napkin from her nap and setting it on the table. We watch after her in silence as she rushes to the door and, because it’s so quiet in the dining room, we can hear her the noise of her heels clacking against the stone in the entryway and the sound of the heavy front door being pulled open.

“Elena, darling!” Grace cries with delight. “I thought you’d be gone all week, what a wonderful surprise!”

“Oh Grace, you know we’d never miss a holiday with you and the kids,” A woman’s voice answers. I turn to look at Christian, who has gone completely white.

“Fuck,” He says under his breath and I feel a shiver of nervous dread course over me.

Next Chapter

 

“That’s quite the haul you’ve got there,” The librarian intern, Ryan, says to me as I leave work. It’s a Thursday and I’ve picked up an extra shift to cover for my fellow work-study library assistant Amanda, who has gone home for the Thanksgiving holiday already.

“It’s okay for me to take this many out at one time, right?” I ask as I sling the heavy bag overfilled with books over my shoulder.

“Sure,” Ryan says, “I know where to find you if you don’t bring them back.” I laugh and wave good-bye and head out the door.

A shiver runs over me as I walk from the library and back to Grays. Fall is beginning to fade and I can taste the coming bite of winter in the breeze as I walk. Dark leaves fall over me like a rain shower as I pass the hallowed trees around the yard and, for some reason, it makes me sad. Maybe it’s because the grounds of this beautiful campus will be so solitary over the next week. Everyone will have gone home for the holiday and I will remain here, left alone to my books and the quiet.

I heave the door open, relieved almost immediately by the wave of heat from inside the building. It’s days like today when I’m glad Kate demanded we move into the “Harvard Hilton” rather than the less expensive dormitories. Jose said his room has been so cold the past few nights he could have sworn he saw his breath when he woke up.

When I trek up the stairs, I pause briefly at the door, pursing my lips as I wonder whether or not Christian is at home. Since the incident a few weeks ago at the Halloween party, things have been a little awkward. Kate is furious with Christian for one thing. When we got back to our dorm that night, Elliot texted Kate and told her he was very sorry but he had brought Christian back to his hotel and he was going to stay with him that night. Apparently, Christian has an ugly history with getting into fights and Elliot was worried about his temper that night. Kate probably would have been understanding if it hadn’t not only been Elliot’s second night in town, but also his last. Kate drove him to the airport the next morning and that was it, most likely until Christmas. It’s been a little over three weeks and Kate still hasn’t spoken to Christian, no matter how many times I explain that it wasn’t his fault.

As for Christian, he’s been fine when I’ve seen him, but that’s the problem, I haven’t really seen him at all besides class. Not even for our Monday night study sessions. Apparently whatever he and Ros are working on is going well and they’re putting in extra hours to ensure it continues to go that way. I wish he would have one night free, I haven’t really had the chance to thank him for sticking up for me at the party Halloween night, or talk to him about what almost happened before Carter showed up. I don’t know when he’s going home for Thanksgiving break, but I hope I can see him one night before he leaves.

I open the door and walk into my room and find Kate dressed in teeny pajama shorts and a sports bra, dancing around the room with her ipod clipped to her bra strap and earbuds in her ears. Her suitcase is open on the bed, and still only partially filled with bikini’s, shorts, sundress and sarongs. She turns to throw in a few pair of sandals when she sees me standing at the door, staring at her with amusement.

“Ana!” She says, startled and embarrassed by me walking in on her very personal jam session. “I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

“I can see that,” I say as I drop the bag of books on the floor with a loud, definite thud. “Practicing for something?”

“My brother always says he doesn’t think I’m smart enough to Harvard… My backup plan if this fails is exotic dancing,” She jokes.

“Hmmm… Better work on your booty shake then, Kate. You’re rhythm is a little off.” I say with a teasing smile.

“My booty shake is perfect,” Kate says defensively, folding yet another bikini and packing it in her suitcase. “Don’t you worry about that.”

“Oh, never fear,” I say. “Your booty is really one of the things in life I worry the least about.”

She turns around and shakes her ass at me as she saunters over to her wardrobe looking for sunglasses in her pile of accessories. I laugh and decide to help her pack. We order a pizza in for dinner that night and decide to rearrange the furniture so we can push our beds together and watch old movies, like a real sleep over.

Luckily, classes the next day are a breeze. Professors aren’t covering any new material or giving out new assignments as half of the student body has already left for the break. Most of my classes are spent as helpful review for our final exams that we’ll take in a few weeks and I’m grateful for the notes and study guides the professors give out. Looks like I’ll have plenty to keep me busy over the next week by myself.

When I get back from classes that day, Kate is practically jumping up and down with impatience. I’m her ride to the airport and even though her flight doesn’t leave for another 3 hours, she’s freaking out that she’s going to miss her flight.

“You’re fine, Kate,” I appease her as if I’m speaking to a child. “We’ll go right now, you’re going to have plenty of time, trust me.”

I help carry one of Kate’s bags out to her Mercedes, which she is lending me this week since Annenberg is closed and I’ll have to go out to get food. The parking lot is full of students loading up cars and saying their good-byes and we’re actually in a bit of a traffic jam as we try and weave our way through cars to leave campus, which does nothing to help Kate’s anxiety. Fortunately, once we’re on the highway heading towards Logan International Airport, the traffic clears and we’re able to make up time.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Kate asks me for the millionth time as I take the exit to the airport.

“Yes!” I say, exasperated. “I’m a grown up, Kate. I can entertain myself for a week.” She looks at me anxiously and it makes me feel horrible because I know, no matter how many times I’ve told her that I will be fine, she feels guilty for leaving me alone on a “family holiday”.

When I drop her off at the gate she gives me a huge hug and promises to bring me something fabulous back from the Bahamas. I tell her I’ll miss her and wish her a fun and safe trip and then watch her walk away until she disappears behind the automatic doors.

I’m surprised, when I get back to campus, how quickly the parking lot seems to have emptied. I pull into a space at the front of the lot, something that would have caused me to buy a lottery ticket on a day when all the students were here it happens so rarely. Unfortunately, it’s merely my first taste of what’s to come and as much as I’ve prepared for this, as much as I have to preoccupy myself, I already feel a little lonely.

I turn to lock Kate’s car and as I scan the parking lot forlornly one last time, I notice Christian’s car is still there and it makes me wonder who is taking him to the airport. Maybe I should text him and see if he needs me to give him a ride, although I guess it fairly likely that he’s already left. Perhaps he got a ride with Ros.

Grays itself feels huge without the usual dozen or so people in the sitting room or wandering through the halls. I go to bed that night, already counting down the days until Thanksgiving break is over.

The next morning, I’m awake pretty early so I decide to get a jumpstart on my reading and lay on my bed with the door open, actually enjoying the silence in the hall. I jump slightly every so often when a door opens and closes as the students straggling behind leave their dorms for break, but for the most part, the quiet is like being back home in Montesano, laying on my bed while Ray is still at work, reading my favorite books.

I’m just getting into one of my very favorite stories, Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Wolfe, when I hear another door open and look up to see Christian locking his door, a small suitcase at his feet and a messenger bag thrown over his shoulder.

“Anastasia?” He asks, surprised to see me when he turns around.

“Hi, Christian. I thought you would have left already.”

“No, I had some things to finish up with Ros last night so I rescheduled my flight for this afternoon. What are you still doing here? Aren’t you going back to Vegas for the holiday?”

“Oh, no.. not this one. I’ll go home for Christmas.”

“You don’t want to spend Thanksgiving with your family?” He asks, creasing his brow.

“No, I do. I just can’t afford to fly home for both Thanksgiving and Christmas and the dorms are closed over Christmas break so that’s kind of the one I have to go home for.”

“So, you’re just going to stay here by yourself?”

“Yes,” I tell him. He shakes his head as if this is an unacceptable answer and pulls out his phone. I watch him type furiously on the keys of his blackberry and wonder who he’s talking to. I hope he’s not yelling at Kate for leaving me alone.

“I’ll be fine,” I say to pacify him. “I’ve got lots of books to keep me company and a few essays to finish. It’ll be nice to have the whole break to work on them.”

“Take them with you then,” He says, slipping his phone back in his pocket. “And whatever else you need for the week. You’re coming home with me.”

“What?” I ask, unsure I heard him correctly.

“I’ve just booked you a ticket on my flight, you’re going to come home with me and spend Thanksgiving with me and my family.”

“Christian, that’s very kind of you to offer but I can’t…”

“Yes, you can. Pack your things or I’ll pack them for you. We’re on a deadline, Anastasia, our flight leaves in a few hours.”

“Christian…” I hesitate but he drops his bag and I know he’s going to make good on his threat to pack for me.

“Okay, okay!” I say in defeat. I get off the bed and get down on the floor, lying flat so I can pull my carry-on suitcase out from underneath it. The purple fabric is already covered in dust bunnies from just the few months it’s been under there so I hastily wipe them away and begin rummaging through my things, collecting what I need. Fortunately, college life means that I don’t have much space for all of my belongings to be spread out, so it doesn’t take me long to collect all the essentials. I grab my keys and follow Christian out the door, my suitcase rolling behind me.

“Are you planning on leaving your car at the airport?” I ask as we make our way out the the parking lot but then I see a black town car idling just next to where I parked Kate’s car the night before. The driver gets out of the car and rushes forward to collect our bags.

“Mr. Grey,” He says in a professional tone as he opens the back door for us. Christian holds open the door to the back seat and then slides in after me. While the driver places our luggage in the trunk, he pulls out his blackberry to make a phone call.

“Hi, Mom,” He says. “One of my friends from school couldn’t go home for Thanksgiving so I’m bringing her back with me. Elliot knows her, she’s actually his girlfriend’s roommate. That’s okay, isn’t it? Yes mom, I said, her. Good, we’re just leaving campus now so we should land back in Seattle in about 10 hours or so. Yes, I’m excited to see you too, Mom. I love you, too. Good-bye.”

He hangs up the phone and we drive off down the same route I took just yesterday to bring Kate to the airport. When we arrive, the driver opens our door for us, removes our luggage from the car and Christian leads me into the airport. He prints our tickets at a self-help kiosk and we weave our way through the crowd of people flying out of Boston for the Thanksgiving holiday. Security is a nightmare and it takes us nearly an hour and forty-five minutes to get through. By the time we finally make it into the terminal and get to our gate, our flight has already begun boarding. Christian and I go straight to the stewardess at the gate, hand her our tickets and board the seemingly over-packed plane. There are so many people aboard I wonder how he was able to just book me a flight.

I pull my copy of Mrs. Dalloway out of my carry-on and then Christian helps me make sure it’s secured in the overhead compartment. I hate to admit it, but I’m happy he booked us seats in business class rather than coach because every seat behind us comes in rows of three, but where we sit, it’s just the two of us.

“Would you like the window seat?” He asks before sitting down.

“No, thank-you,” I say. “I’ve never really been one for heights.” He smiles and takes the window seat and I squeeze in after him. We wait as the rest of the plane fills up and passengers take their seats. Once, a woman falls over on top of me while attempting to maneuver around someone standing in the aisle trying to force their overstuffed bag in the compartment.

“I’m sorry!” She says apologetically and I assure her there is no harm done, but Christian’s jaw tightens with irritation.

“I absolutely abhor flying commercial,” He scowls. “One day, I’ll have a private plane and I’ll never have to deal with any of this shit again.”

The cabin doors close and we begin taxiing over the tarmac towards the runway. The stewardess stands at the front of the plane to give the safety demonstration and as we turn on to the runway, I begin to shrink into my seat.

“Are you alright, Ana?” Christian asks.

“Yes.” I say meekly. “I’ll be fine once we’re in the air. It’s the taking off and landing part that I’m not a big fan of.”

He takes my hand, squeezes it twice, and the gesture does make me feel a little better. I feel as though my stomach is flattened against the back of my seat as the plane leaves the ground and flies off into the air. It takes about ten minutes, but eventually we level out and I feel okay again. Christian is reading a book called Seventeen Contradictions and the End of Capitalism, which doesn’t interest me in the slightest, so I open Mrs. Dalloway and we spend the next hour or so reading next to each other in silence, which is slightly difficult at times because even though he has his own book to hold, he never relinquishes my hand.

The stewardess comes around after a while and offers us cookies and drinks, which we both gladly accept. I wish there would have been enough time in the airport to grab something to eat. I hadn’t gone to breakfast before Christian collected me and I’m pretty hungry.

We have a layover in St. Paul that gives us just enough time to grab some Pizza in the airport terminal, something Christian doesn’t seem thrilled about, and then we’re once again whisked off into the air towards Seattle. This time, rather than reading, Christian and I plug our headphones into the armrest and watch a movie together. I slouch sideways in my seat, leaning my head on his shoulder and he takes my hand again and rests his head on mine. I feel so warm and safe sitting next to him.

This is how it should be.

When we finally touch down in Seattle, I feel an overwhelming sense of comfort. It’s like I hadn’t realized how much I missed being home, being in my own time-zone, until I got back. We exit the plane and walk through the airport, which is finally familiar to me. When we make it through the doors to the waiting area, Christian gestures ahead to his family. I see Elliot first, smiling, holding the shoulders of a small, thin girl, probably around thirteen, with long, raven colored hair, who is nearly bouncing up and down with excitement. Next to them, a woman I’d place in her late forties, early fifties, with sandy blonde hair stands beaming at us. She’s holding hands with a man who also looks to be in his early fifties with light brown hair peppered with flecks of gray.

“Christian!” The girl, who I assume is his sister Mia, squeals as she finally breaks free from Elliot’s grasp and races forward. Christian lets go of the handle of the suitcase and wraps her in a warm hug as she catches him around the waist, nearly knocking the wind out of him.

“Hey, Meems.” He says affectionately. Christian’s family walks towards us and Elliot is the first to pull me into a one armed hug.

“Hi, Ana,” He says warmly, rubbing my shoulder. “Glad you came!”

“Anastasia!” Christian’s mom says, and it looks as though she’s nearly bursting with happiness. “How wonderful of you to join us for the holiday. It’s so rare we have the opportunity to meet Christian’s friends.”

“Yeah, because he doesn’t have any friends,” Elliot teases.

“Shut up, Elliot!” Mia cries indignantly.

“Yeah. Shut up, Elliot,” Christian agrees.

“Okay, kids. Let’s get home. I’m sure Christian and Ana are ready for a home cooked meal and some well deserved rest.” Christian’s dad says. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ana.” He adds. “Elliot has told us wonderful things about you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Grey,” I say.

“Please, call me Carrick.”

“Carrick,” I repeat with a smile.

We walk through the airport and out to the parking garage where we pile into the Grey’s SUV. It’s a tight squeeze in the backseat, but it’s surprisingly, or unsurprisingly really, nice to be situated so close to Christian. We drive around Seattle towards Bellevue and I smile as we pass the familiar landmarks that make this home.

When we get to the Grey’s home in Bellevue, I’m astonished by the size of the property. The grounds are expansive, nearly park like. The driveway itself takes nearly ten seconds for us to traverse in the car. The house is enormous, larger than any house I’ve ever seen and I’m awestruck as I step out of the SUV and look up at the windows emanating warm, welcoming light.

I’m overwhelmed by the wealth around me. I know what it costs to live in the Seattle area and this house, these grounds, we’re talking millions of dollars. I suppose it makes sense though, Christian does attend Harvard and he has a private room in the most expensive dormitory on campus. Then there’s the designer clothes, the Audi… not to mention Elliot’s attendance at Stanford and his monthly cross country flights from San Francisco to Boston. I wonder what type of law Christian’s dad does? Or maybe, Mr. Grey or Mrs. Grey come from money as well.

“Do you like it?” Christian asks when he steps out behind me and notices me gaping at the house.

“Like it?” I ask, the incredulity in my voice apparent. “It’s practically the Four Seasons!”

He laughs. “Homier though, I think.”

I follow him up the stone walkway that winds through the perfectly manicured lawn up to the front door. The entrance way in the house is as grand as the exterior suggests. It has high ceilings with a large crystal chandelier, shiny stone flooring and a stately winding staircase to the second floor. We are greeted at the door by a young looking woman with blonde, braided pigtails who takes Mrs. Grey’s coat.

“Is dinner almost ready, Gretchen?” She asks as she hands over her purse.

“Nearly, Dr. Grey,” Gretchen says. “We’ll be ready to serve in about fifteen minutes.”

“Wonderful,” Christian’s mom says. “Christian, will you show Ana to the guest room so she can get settled in before dinner?”

“Yes, over here, Ana,” Christian says gesturing down the hallway down the right to the entrance way.

“I wanna take Ana to the guestroom!’ Mia pouts.

“Lead the way then,” Christian says, stepping aside for his sister to go first. She smiles up and him and bounds forward. We follow Mia down the short hallway and she opens the door to a large room. I step inside and am again overwhelmed. The room is filled with a king sized bed covered in luxurious linens and overstuffed pillows. There is a silky looking chaise lounge beneath the window decorated with soft cream and silver curtains and a huge flat screen tv mounted on the wall across from the bed.

“There’s a bathroom over here,” Mia says, walking across the room and opening a door on the far wall. “And there is a closet at the back behind the sinks if you want to hang any of your clothes up.”

I walk over and look into the bathroom. It’s made entirely of a pale tan sandstone and there is a jacuzzi tub and a shower. At the back of the room, I can see the dark space that l assume is a walk in closet.

“You’ll be okay down here alone?” Christian asks.

“Okay?” I ask, overwhelmed. “Can I move in and stay here forever?”

Christian laughs. “I don’t know how many correspondence courses Harvard offers.”

“Who needs college when you have all of this?” I ask dreamily. “And to think, I was going to stay in Cambridge over the break.”

“I’m glad you came,” Christian says warmly and I look up at the pleased expression on his face.

“Me too,” I say.

“Do you want me to take your suitcase up to your room, Christian?” Mia asks. Now that the excitement of showing me the room has worn off, I think she’s anxious to go and eat dinner.

“I’ll get it, Meems,” Christian tells her and then turns back to me. “Make yourself at home. Dinner should be just about ready. I’ll meet you in the dining room.”

“Um… where is that?” I ask hesitantly.

“It’s not that big of a house, Ana,” Christian says. “I’m sure you won’t get lost.” I look at him pointedly and he sighs and continues.

“Go back down the hallway and walk past the stairs into the family room. The kitchen is off to the left and the dining room is on the other side of that.”

“I would have gotten lost,” I say and he rolls his eyes me.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” He says and he turns around, and leaves the room with Mia. I stare at my surroundings once more before wheeling my suitcase through the bathroom and back to the closet. I want to keep most of my things in here, the room is too pretty to mess up with clutter. I pull out my clothes and put them into the dresser drawers built into the walls of the closet. I didn’t really bring anything nice enough to have to hang up and I’m starting to regret it. What if Christian’s family is one of those families that dresses up for Thanksgiving dinner? Usually on Thanksgiving, I spend the whole day cooking and then Ray and I eat dinner on the couch in sweatpants and watch football. I decide to ask Christian about it and if I need something nicer, I’ll ask him to drive me over to Kate’s so I can raid her closet. Hopefully they haven’t changed the garage code since I’ve last been there.

I place my bag of toiletries on the counter and tuck my suitcase neatly into the corner of the closet. Quickly, I check my reflection in the mirror and grab a hair brush from my bag to comb all of the tangles out of it. After, I make sure there is nothing in my teeth, I hurry out of the room towards the Grey’s dining room where everyone is already sitting around a large, polished wood table.

“I saved you a seat next to me, Ana!” Mia says with a smile. I smile back and sit next to her, across from Christian. Gretchen places a piece of grilled chicken on my plate and asks if I would like anything to drink. I ask for a glass of iced water and she disappears in the kitchen to get it. Wait staff is definitely weird, I think as she sets the glass in front of me, I feel as though I’m in a restaurant.

“Would you care for some broccoli, dear?” Christian’s mom asks, passing me a bowl with steamed broccoli which looks to be covered in sea salt and parmesan cheese.

“Yes please, Dr. Grey,” I say and she smiles sweetly at me.

“There’s no reason to be so formal. Please, call me Grace.”

“Thank-you,” I say, taking the bowl from her and helping myself to a portion of broccoli.

“You take some broccoli too, Mia.” Grace says sternly, and Mia frowns.

“Ah mom, Elliot doesn’t have to eat any broccoli,” She complains.

“That’s because Elliot is an adult.” Elliot says, referring to himself in the third person.

“No, that’s because Elliot hasn’t been passed the vegetables yet. You can give them to him when you’ve taken some for yourself, Mia.”

As Mia takes a tiny scoop of broccoli onto her plate and passes the bowl to Elliot, Grace hands me a bowl of rosemary seasoned red potatoes and I gladly take them.

While I savor each delicious bite of dinner, I listen to the wholesome, loving family conversation. Carrick talks about a case he’s recently finished while Grace tells us that she would like to do some kind of craft project and some baking for the children spending Thanksgiving in the hospital. Together, they catch Christian and Elliot up on everything they’ve missed being away at school and tell them to make time for Mia’s dance recital at the end of the week.

“How is school going, Christian?” Grace asks as the meal dies down.

“Fine,” He replies, not looking up from his food.

“So you are doing well in your classes? Elliot told me last week he thought you might be struggling with your course load.”

“I’m fine, Mom. I’m still keeping down a 4.0, I’m just busier than I anticipated.”

“And your rowing, how is that going?” Carrick asks, joining in the barrage of questioning from the opposite end of the table.

“It’s fine. We had some trouble with one of our teammates, but once he left it’s been smooth sailing. We won five of our last six meets and we’ve got a strong team to continue on in the spring.”

“But you’re enjoying it?” His mother asks. “It’s not too much on top of your schedule?”

“Yes, I enjoy it and no, it isn’t too much for me to handle. I’m handling everything fine.”

“We’re very happy to hear that,” Grace says with a smile and then turns to me. “And what is it you’re studying at Harvard, Ana?”

“Literature,” I tell her and she nods.

“And are you a legacy at Harvard like Katherine?” She continues.

“No, I’m actually the first in my family to go to college,” I say and both she and Carrick look at me puzzled.

“What is it that your parents do?” Carrick asks.

“Well my mom is just a stay at home wife, but my step-dad is in the military. He’s currently deployed in Iraq.”

“Oh, well how wonderfully brave.” Grace says.

“So, you’re on scholarship to Harvard then?” Carrick asks and I’m confused by the uneasy look on his face as his eyes flash back and forth between Christian and I.

“Mostly,” I say. “I’ve gotten some scholarships and aid from the military and have loans for the rest.”

“I see…” Carrick says.

“I think that’s wonderful, dear. You should be very proud of yourself,” Grace says, giving Carrick a warning look.

“How is school going for you, Mia?” Elliot asks, obviously trying to change the subject. Mia tells us all about Jr. High and how excited she is to go to High School the next year until we’ve all finished our dinners. As our plates are collected, we head into the living room where Gretchen brings us hot cocoa and we watch a movie on the Grey’s huge TV. Just spending this evening with them is like getting a sense of family that I’ve never really experienced before. Everyone is so relaxed and comfortable here together. It’s nice.

When the movie is over, Christian’s parents decide to call it a night. Carrick takes Mia, who fell asleep during the movie, into his arms and carries her off to bed.

“Are you tired?” Christian asks me as Elliot flops across the couch and starts flipping through channels.

“A little,” I tell him. “It is midnight back in Cambridge right now.”

“Then let’s go to bed,” He says. I nod and turn to say goodnight to Elliot who waves me off as if my addressing him is far less important than the infomercial he’s just flipped to.

Christian walks me to the stairs and pulls me into a tight hug.

“I’m really glad you came with me,” He says, kissing the top of my hair.

“Me too,” I say.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Christian.”

“Goodnight, Ana.”

He starts up the stairs and I turn down the hallway to the Grey’s guest room. Closing the door softly behind me, I go into the bathroom, change into pajamas, brush my teeth, and wash my face. I didn’t realize how soft and squishy the carpet in this room was until I walked across it barefoot and I wiggle my toes around in it just before I climb into bed.

The sheets I envelop myself in are softer than any I’ve ever slept in and there is the slight hint of a jasmine scent to the bed set. I smile at how nicely events have turned in my favor, to be here, spending a whole week with Christian at home, without the interruptions from school. The sweet thought carries me off into a restful sleep, as I snuggle deeply in the comfortably warm bed.

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