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.

Next Chapter

 

“Please, Anastasia. I’m sorry,” Carter begs. I shift the phone to my other ear and sigh.

“No, Carter. I’m sorry you’re upset but I don’t want to be in a relationship with you anymore. Look, it’s getting late, I need to go,” I tell him.

“Is Grey there?” He asks, his tone changing to anger in an instant.

“No,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Believe it or not, Christian and I aren’t together 24 hours a day.”

“But you and Grey aren’t dating right?”

“No, Carter. We aren’t dating. I have to go.”

“Meet me for breakfast in the morning. Let’s talk about this,” He pleads again.

“Good-bye, Carter.”

“Anasta-” He says, but I hang up the phone and throw it down irritably on my comforter. Kate is staring at me from her desk where she’s working on a paper for her broadcasting class and I shake my head and roll my eyes at her to express my irritation with Carter.

“Why is he still calling you?” She asks. “It’s been over two weeks. How many times have you said no, like a thousand?”

“Probably right around there,” I say, annoyed.

In the beginning, immediately after Carter and I broke up, when he begged my forgiveness and asked for another chance, I was sympathetic. When the flowers started appearing at my dorm, I felt sorry for him. When my phone started ringing off the hook and I started noticing him everywhere I went around campus, I started getting pissed. Fortunately, the one class I can escape without seeing Carter lurking outside waiting for me is Survey of British Literature and I have a feeling that it has something to do with the fact I leave every class with Christian.

“Are you picking your brother up from the airport tonight, or is Kate?” I ask Christian when we leave class on Tuesday.

“I think we both are. Elliot wants to have dinner in Boston before coming back to Cambridge.”

“Oh, sounds like fun,” I say.

“Do you want to come?” He asks.

“Really?”

“Of course, I know Elliot wants to see you and believe me, the idea of spending time alone in a public setting with Elliot and Katherine after they’ve been apart for nearly a month and a half is not my idea of a great evening.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want you to have to suffer through that alone,” I laugh. “I’d love to come.”

He smiles at me and I feel warmth rush over me and I can’t contain my grin. The more weeks pass and the farther I get away from my break up with Carter, the easier it is to admit that I really, really like Christian Grey.

The past few weeks with him have been the best since I’ve been to Harvard. He’s lighter now, more fun to be around, and much easier to talk to. We’ve studied together the past few weeks and listening to his criticisms of the foundations and theories in his business and economics books is both hilarious and awe inspiring. I’m dumbfounded by how much Christian seems to know about the business world, having never been in it. We don’t often speak about our plans for after graduation, but when we do, he talks about owning a huge mega-conglomerate company that will make him millions of dollars a year. He and Ros, who he tells me will be his partner in this venture, have already started working on formulating their business plan and about a week ago, he had one of his “strategy meetings” with Ros and when I saw him later that night he was positively beaming with happiness. Something must be going right. Perhaps that’s the reason for his new uplifting mood.

“I’ll see you in about an hour?” Christian asks as he unlocks the door to his dorm.

“If Kate’s ready,” I sigh. “I know she wants to look her best so we may spend the next hour debating over which outfit looks best with which shoes. God forbid she adds a jacket to the mix, we may be here all night.”

Christian frowns. “Tell her not to be late, I don’t do late.”

“Yes, sir!” I say in a mockingly serious tone, but he raises and eyebrow and smirks.

“What?” I ask, confused by the almost satisfied expression on his face.

“Nothing,” He says quickly, though his voice retains his humor. “I’ll see you in an hour.”

I open the door and step into my dorm room. It looks like a bomb went off in a department store. There are clothes thrown all over the room, on the floor, both the beds, the dressers, the desk, there is even a light pink, lacy bra hanging off the light fixture.

“Kate?” I ask, as I remove the bra and tuck it into her underwear drawer. She sticks her head out of the bathroom, holding a curling iron in her hair. Luckily her makeup is already done. Wow, she looks flawless.

“Ana, thank god you’re back!” She says with relief, and she pulls the curling iron away and the strand of hair cascades down in a perfect spiral curl. She comes out of the bathroom with apprehension on her face.

“Does this outfit say No I didn’t dress up for you, I just always look this hot?” She asks, turning around to give me a full view. She’s wearing tight dark skinny jeans, a white button down blouse (unbuttoned perhaps a little too far), and a tan ¾ sleeve blazer. She accents the outfit with a gold necklace and turquoise high heels.

“I think you look great, Kate. Amazing even. Your makeup looks really good.”

“Thanks,” She says, invigorating the roots of her blonde hair with her perfectly manicured fingernails. The curls start to loosen and she flips her her head a few times until her hair is a cloud of loose waves and curls that beautifully frames her face.

“That didn’t take as long as I expected,” She says looking down at the clock on her phone. “I don’t need to leave for another hour or so.”

“Christian invited me to come with you guys,” I say hesitantly. I’ve just realized, in this moment, looking at how beautiful Kate looks, that my agreement to go along this evening may be an intrusion. I was already the third wheel on their first date.

“Really, you’re coming?” Kate ask excitedly, her delighted tone washing my concerns away. “That’s awesome! We’re going to have so much fun tonight! Well… except that Christian will be there.”

I roll my eyes at her grimace.

“He’s calmed down a lot in the last few weeks. He’s been nice and fun to hang out with.”

“Yeah, because you broke up with Carter and he’s no longer riddled with jealousy,” Kate says as she glosses her lips in the mirror she has propped over her dresser.

“No,” I contend. “I think whatever he and Ros are working on is going well. Did you know he wants to start a company?”

“Yes,” Kate says, as she finally stops fiddling with her make up and turns to face me. “He’s wanted to for a long time, but his parents said they wouldn’t help him or give him any money to get started until he graduated college. He argued with them for months before he finally had to give in and just come to school.”

“How do you know these things?” I ask, exasperated that Kate knows more about Christian than I do even though she spends approximately zero time with him other than when we’re all together.

“Elliot,” She answers plainly and again I roll my eyes.

“Elliot gossips like a highschool girl,” I say.

“Yes, but he’s all man,” Kate says, raising her eyebrows at the innuendo.

“Katherine Kavanagh!” I exclaim, faking surprise that she would be so audacious. She laughs and then looks me up and down and I know she’s examining my worn in jeans and t-shirt.

“I don’t know where we’re going to dinner, but it might be somewhere nice. Are you going to change?” She asks.

“Uh… I wasn’t planning on it, but I suppose,” I say. “So… are we just winging it tonight then? For the restaurant, I mean.”

“Christian picked the restaurant, I just don’t know what he chose,” She says. I nod and get up to dig through my drawer. I choose the pair of tight black jeans Kate bought me for the party at the beginning of the year and slip on a white, v-neck, sleeveless blouse and Kate lends me a white blazer.

“Do you want me to do your hair and make-up?” Kate asks, looking down at her phone with frustration. I know she hates waiting and we still have a little over a half an hour.

“Sure,” I shrug, knowing this will at least distract her. She sits me down and works my hair up into a messy bun on top of my head. Thankfully she keeps my makeup fairly natural and after she hooks some drop earrings made of black beads through my ears, I slip on my black flats.

“You need color,” She says, frowning slightly and she turns to look at the pile of shoe boxes stacked neatly in the corner. When she finds the box she’s looking for, she pulls out a pair of blush colored, round toed pumps and hands them to me. I look at them nervously as I remember the last time Kate gave me heels to wear to the party at the beginning of the year, but decide the only way to get better at walking in heels is to wear them. I take the shoes and switch them out for my flats.

Kate begins to touch up my lips with some gloss when my phone buzzes. I look down at the text from Christian telling me he’s waiting downstairs.

“Ready?” Kate asks after I’ve passed her final inspection.

“Yep,” I say and I bounce up and grab my purse. She purses her lips and goes to the tiny wardrobe set against the wall by the food of her bed. After digging through a mess of scarves, purses and belts stuffed into the top of the wardrobe, she pulls out a black clutch which she hands to me. I take all of the things out of my purse and am barely able to squeeze them in the little bag. Kate takes another small clutch, turquoise to match her shoes, grabs her keys, and we’re out the door.

“You girls look lovely,” Christian says politely as Kate and I come down the stairs to the main foyer of Grays Hall. He’s dressed in dark, well fitted jeans, a gray sweater and white button down with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and the top button undone, and a pair of well polished, brown leather dress shoes. We must be going somewhere at least a little nice for dinner… I’m glad Kate made me change.

“Should we take one car?” Kate asks, looking at the keys Christian holds in his hand.

“We should take two,” Christian says. “I assume you’re staying with Elliot at his hotel tonight? You can drive him back to the hotel and I can bring Anastasia back here.”

“Good plan,” Kate says. “Are you riding with me, Ana, or do you want to go with Christian.

I look between the two of them.

“I think if I’m riding back with Christian, I’ll ride up with you, Kate,” I say. She nods and Christian steps aside and motions us to the door, suggesting we should lead the way.

I slide into the passenger’s seat of Kate’s Mercedes and we follow Christian’s Audi out of the parking lot. It’s only about a 20 minute drive from Cambridge to Logan International Airport but it’s enjoyable as Kate and I sing along with the radio.

“Are you excited to see Elliot?” I ask as we pass Fenway Park.

“Very excited. I really like him, Ana. I’ve never felt this way about another guy before and I feel like I haven’t seen him in forever!’

“It’s been awhile,” I concede. “Maybe you’ll have to make some trips down to Stanford to see him since he’s only going to be here once a month.”

“I do love San Francisco,” She says with a smile. “It would be nice to visit more often.”

“And luckily you both live in Seattle so you’ll see each other on breaks,” I add.

“Not Thanksgiving,” She says sadly. “I’d never thought the day would come when I’d rather spend my vacation in dreary, wet Seattle than the warm and sunny Bahamas.”

“Well, there’s always Christmas,” I say. “And there is only what.. Three weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas break?”

“That’s true. Are you going home to Vegas for Thanksgiving since Ray is abroad?”

“No, I can’t afford to go home for both Thanksgiving and Christmas, and since the dorms close over Christmas break, that’s the vacation I’ll be going home for.”

“Ana!” Kate scolds me. “Why didn’t you say that. If I’d have known I would have booked you an extra ticket and you could have come to the Bahamas with me and my family.”

“I’ll be fine,” I say. “I can get caught up on all the essays I have to finish before finals and I’ll stock up on books at the library before break starts.”

“You shouldn’t be alone on Thanksgiving,” She continues with a frown but I shrug. I know Kate’s family is really close and she couldn’t fathom spending a holiday away from her family, but to be honest… this isn’t the first Thanksgiving I will have without my mom. Not the first by far…

“Maybe Christian is staying behind,” She says, her attitude brightening. “Elliot says he never goes home.”

“I think there’s a difference between not going home on a long weekend and not going home for a holiday, Kate. I doubt he’s staying behind.”

She sighs.

“You’re right. From what I’ve heard about Grace, she’d probably come drag him back to Seattle by his ear if he didn’t at least come home for Thanksgiving.”

We pull into the parking garage at Logan International Airport, Kate pays the meter and we look around for Christian. He’s waiting for us by the stairs and together, we walk to the gate and wait for Elliot. It takes about 25 minutes before we see him behind the barrier. His face splits into a wide, warm grin and he barrels forward through the doors to the terminal and sweeps Kate into his arms, spinning her around as they kiss passionately. You’d think Elliot just came back from war the way they’re behaving.

Christian coughs lowly and then looks down at me.

“Thank you for coming,” He says wryly and I giggle. He smiles down at me and I see a rare glimpse of warmth in his grey eyes.

“That’s a lovely sound,” He says. I feel warmth rush to my cheeks as I begin to blush furiously. He reaches down and interlocks his fingers in mine, caressing the back of my hand with his thumb.

“So where are we going for dinner? I’m starving,” Elliot says, turning to me and Christian, who drops my hand.

“It’s not far,” Christian says. “Is seafood alright with everyone?”

“Oh! I feel like I haven’t had good seafood in a long time!” Kate says happily.

“Ana?” Christian asks.

“Sure. I like seafood,” I say.

“Then let’s get the luggage and get going,” Elliot says taking Kate’s hand.

“You checked a bag?” Christian asks, like it’s the most outrageous thing any person has ever done in the history of air travel.

“Needed room for my costume. You’re going to love it, Kate. I went all out,” Elliot says with a huge grin.

“Awesome!” Kate squeals as we begin walking through the terminal for the baggage carousel. “I can’t wait for you to see Ana and I, it’s adorable.”

“What are you going to be, Christian?” I ask as we stop at carousel number two, which thankfully is already spinning with suitcases. Elliot snorts at my question.

“Christian in costume? Ha! That would imply he had any sense of fun about him at all.”

Christian glares at Elliot but he doesn’t answer my question so I assume he must be right. Elliot’s bag takes nearly no time at all to arrive. He collects his luggage and then he and Kate head to Kate’s car while Christian leads me to his. He drives to a restaurant called Atlantic Fish Company and when we get inside, we’re seated right away. I order the New England Clam Chowder and Elliot entertains us with stories of Stanford until the food arrives.

“How’s everything going?” Elliot asks Christian. “I haven’t heard from you in a few days.”

“I knew you were coming today. Is it so hard to live without talking to me for a few days at a time?”

“Well Mom said you haven’t called her either… and she said Mrs. Lincoln has tried calling a few times but can’t get ahold of you.”

I nearly choke on my soup at the mention of Mrs. Lincoln.

“Are you okay, Ana?” Kate asks, concerned as I cough into my napkin. Christian looks down at me with a warning glance.

“I’ve been busy,” He lies cooly. “I’m taking a lot of classes this semester.”

“I told you that was a dumb idea,” Elliot says. “See Christian, sometimes you’re older brother is right.”

“Not enough for me to bet on it,” Christian says and Elliot laughs. Kate begins talking about her upcoming vacation to the Bahamas and I realize, Christian has gotten away with avoiding Elliot’s question. Man, he’s distracted easily. That crap would never work with Kate.

When we’re finished, Kate and Elliot drive back to Elliot’s hotel in Cambridge and Christian drives me home.

“You were quiet at dinner,” He says as we pull on the interstate heading back to Harvard.

“Your brother sure can talk,” I say, attempting the same aversion he used earlier.

“I don’t think that’s the reason why.” He says, not falling for it. Damn. I guess obliviousness isn’t a family trait. Well, they say honesty is the best policy.

“When are you going to talk to Mrs. Lincoln about your decision? I ask quietly. His eyes narrow as he looks at the dark road ahead of us.

“I think it’s a better idea for my mother to meet you before I speak with Elena. She’s my mother’s best friend and if she were to find out about you before my mother got to know you, she might have… unpleasant things to say about you. My mother listens to her, and I don’t her turning my family against you,” He says.

“Why? Is she jealous or something?”

“You have no idea, Anastasia,” He says darkly.

“But when am I ever going to meet your mother? Ray’s gone, I won’t be going back to Washington for years, most likely.”

“I’m sure my mother will come here before too long. She loves the North East.”

“And until then I’m just supposed to wait for you?”

“Why wait? Just because I haven’t spoken to Elena doesn’t mean I’m not finished with her. I’ve told you before Ana, it’s you I want.”

I snort and look out the window.

“What?” Christian asks.

“If you think I’m going to be in a relationship with you while you’re still technically in a relationship with another woman, then you really don’t know anything about women at all, Christian Grey.”

“Perhaps you’re right, Miss Steele. Then we wait for my mother to visit.”

“You’ll wait. I’m open for anything. You better hope that no one else comes along,” I say smugly. Sure it’s a little immature and may come off as a little bit of a threat, but it’s true. I really have no way of knowing what he’s really thinking. He might be telling her one thing and me another and I’m not going to be his backup plan. He seems to hear the threat too because his knuckles begin to grow white as he grips the steering wheel tightly. Good. He deserves to be uncomfortable. If he wants me, he can have me. All he needs to do, is break it off with the bitch troll.

We pull into the parking lot by Gray’s and I climb out of the car. Christian meets me at the walkway and once again takes me by the hand. Once we’re standing outside of our respective dorms, I pull the keys out of the too small clutch in my hand, unlock the door and open it half way.

“You’ve been robbed,” Christian says, looking, astonished, around my room as I flip on the light.

“Kate had a little trouble getting ready today,” I say, embarrassed by the mess inside. “I guess I”ll have to clean up before I go to bed.”

“I suppose this is good-night then,” Christian says, looking down at me with burning gray eyes.

“Good-night,” I say quietly, slightly overwhelmed by his gaze. After a brief moment of hesitation, he leans down to kiss me but just before his lips touch mine, I come to my sense and place my hand up to stop him.

“Make the phone call,” I say, and I step into my room and close the door.

“We look so good!” Kate squeals with delight the following evening as we stand in front of the mirror. We’re both dressed in our Halloween costumes, ready to head out to a house party being held at the same place the party at the beginning of the year was at. Elliot is sitting on Kate’s bed, dressed in an elaborate Bowser costume he made himself. His work is impressive to behold.

We head out of the room and while Kate locks up, I knock on Christian’s door. He answers wearing another pair of well fitting jeans and a white t-shirt under a crimson, half-zipped hoodie with the word HARVARD emblazoned over the front in white bold letters.

“You call that a costume?” Elliot laughs and Christian looks smugly at his brother.

“What are you supposed to be, a dinosaur?” He asks as if he’s embarrassed for Elliot. .

“No, I’m Bowser, enemy of Mario World and the nemesis of my girlfriend here,” He says, pulling Mario Kate into a tight, side hug. “What are you supposed to be? Cool guy who doesn’t do costumes?”

“This is a costume,” Christian says defensively. “I’m going as a student who enjoys college.”

I roll my eyes and I think my sentiment is shared by Kate and Elliot as I hear Kate scoff and begin dragging Elliot down the hall after her.

“Lead the way, Miss Steele.” Christian says.

The house is much more crowded than it was the last time we were here, although that could just be because of the added bulk of dozens of costumes. Most of the girls are dressed in skimpy lingerie with wings or halos attached. Christian is the only one not wearing a real costume and I wonder if he feels uncomfortable. He doesn’t look like it.

“Can I get you a drink?” Christian asks, leaning down to speak in my ear so I can hear him over the music.

“Please!” I yell and we walk together through the throng to the kitchen where they keep the booze. Rather than the kegs they had at the last party, there are several giant buckets filled with fruit floating in red juice.

“Jungle Juice,” A guy pouring a half gallon of vodka into one of the bucket explains. “Cups are $5”.

Christian reaches into his wallet and pulls out a $20 for him, Kate, Elliot and I.

“Are you sure?” I ask, worried about how much he seems to be paying for me lately. “I have some cash. I can get me and Kate.”

He rolls his eyes as he hands me a cup filled with the red liquid.

“What kind of man would I be if I made you pay for your own drinks?” He asks.

“A regular one,” I say, and I take a drink. The jungle juice tastes like straight alcohol and burns when I swallow. I make a face when I pull the cup away.

“That bad, huh?” Christian asks.

“It’s pretty awful,” I admit. “But I’ll get used to it.”

He hands me Kate’s drink and takes the two remaining cups and we make our way through the crowd looking for Kate and Elliot.

“Ana!” I hear someone call and turn to see Jose coming towards me dressed as a Spartan warrior. He’s holding the hand of a red haired girl wearing a Grecian style dress.

“Jose!” I exclaim, as he pulls me into a hug. “It’s been so long, what have you been up to?”

“Just studying mostly,” He admits. “Have you met Heather? She’s in my advanced calculus class. We started dating about two weeks ago.”

“No,” I say, wishing I had a free hand to reach out to her. “Hi, Heather. I’m Ana! That’s a great costume.”

“You too!” She says with a smile.

“I think I see Elliot,” Christian says, eyeing Jose suspiciously.

“Okay, well I’ll see you later, Jose. We should hang out soon.”

“Sounds great, Ana!” He says and then he turns to Christian. “Make sure she sets that drink down if you’re going to dance. That juice looks like it stains.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Christian says, and he nudges me forward.

“What’s this?” Kate asks when I hand her the drink. “

“Jungle Juice. Be careful, it’s dangerous,” I warn her. She takes a drink and her eyes widen and she grimaces.

“What is this, vodka with food coloring?”

“Basically,” I say and she looks down at the drink and then shrugs and takes another drink.

“I think it’s awesome!” Elliot says draining his glass. “Come on, Kate.”

He pulls Kate out onto the dance floor and they begin grinding against each other to Smack That by Akon. Kate is dancing more seductively than usual and I know what that means. They won’t be at this party long. I hope they plan on going back to Elliot’s hotel again…

“Shall we?” Christian asks, holding out his hand.

“Jose wasn’t kidding. I’m a terrible dancer, I might spill this all over you.”

“It’s all in the leading,” He says, holding his hand out to me. I hesitate, staring down at his hand uncertainly. Before I take his hand, I take a long, draining, gulp from my cup, hoping to make it spill proof. It burns as it goes down and before Christian is even able to lead me out on the dance floor, I feel the effects of the alcohol. These drinks really are strong.

Christian can move on the dance floor. He pulls me around and spins me, and under his guidance, I feel almost graceful. His hand caress my sides and between the heat of the room, the heat of the alcohol, and the heat of his gaze, I feel a deep, delicious desire begin to build inside of me. I look down at his body moving around me and wonder what it would look like if he took off his shirt… or his pants.

There is a break in the music and Christian looks down at me.

“Do you want another one?” He asks as I drain the last of my drink. I nod and hand him the empty cup and watch as he disappears into the crowd of people towards the Jungle Juice. Kate and Elliot are dancing together close by and as soon as Christian leaves, Kate whispers in Elliot’s ear and pulls him off the dance floor towards me.

“Ana!” She says with delight, hugging me. I want to laugh at her, she’s positively beaming and it’s a joy to see her this happy. Elliot really is good for her, I’m glad they found each other.

“We need a picture of our costumes,” Kate says, handing Elliot her drink and cell phone. “Mario and Luigi!” She cries, possibly a little drunkenly, as she pulls me next to her to face Elliot.

“Smile!” She chimes as Elliot takes our picture. She strikes a fierce pose and I roll my eyes and lean in close to her and smile. Elliot snaps the photo and hands Kate’s phone back to her, but she demands we take the picture again three more times before she’s fully satisfied with the way we both look.

“I’m going to print this and hang it on our wall, Ana. This looks awesome!” She says happily and I smile back in agreement.

“How much have you had to drink?” I laugh and she smiles back at me mischievously. “Not enough and neither have you! Where is your drink?”

“Christian went to get it!” I shout over the music. Wait a minute where is Christian? It can’t take this long to refill two drinks.

“I’ll be right back guys,” I say, pointing in the direction of the Jungle Juice. Kate, who is already wrapped around Elliot moving grinding to the music, waves me off.

I turn around and weave my way through the crowd of dancing people until I can see the punch buckets on the counter. Christian is standing there with a thin, tall girl with long blonde hair, who is talking excitedly to him. Christian looks uncomfortable and he keeps looking down at her hands nervously. She reaches out to touch him lightly on the arm and he takes a wide step to the side.

Oh no.

I walk forward and take one of the drinks from Christian with my right hand and then put my left hand in his.

“Baby, what’s taking so long?” I ask in a high, sweet voice. Christian smiles down at me gratefully as I turn to look at the girl who’s talking to him. She’s staring at our interlocked hands, frowning.

“Hi, I’m Ana.” I say.

“Becca,” She answers sourly and I smirk at her before turning back to Christian.

“Come join us?” I ask. He nods once to me and we turn away from the extremely disappointed looking Becca.

“Thank you,” Christian says as I take a drink of Jungle Juice again. The more I drink, the less I taste the burn of the alcohol and I know that’s not a good thing. Christian takes a drink himself and pulls me back on the dance floor. Placing his hand on the small of my back, he pulls me in close to him so my body is flush against his. His hand slowly creeps down my back while we move until his fingers gently caress my backside. I gasp and he moves his hand up back to my back, and dips me backwards, swinging me around and quickly bringing me back up again until my breasts are pressed against him. I feel alive in his arms. My heart is pulsing with the beat of the music and my skin is electrified by Christian’s touch. He brings his face close to mine, less than an inch away, so I can feel his breath as he lazily drags his fingertips down my over sensitive sides. I bite my lip, trying to suppress a groan and he grabs me by the hand and drags me off the dance floor.

I stumble as I try to keep pace with Christian as he leads me out the front door and onto the porch. He looks around, making sure no one is around and then pushes me roughly against the banister next to the stairs and then, his mouth is on mine. Our tongues move together in a kind of forbidden dance while his hands greedily explore my body. I feel him grasp my hair by the nape of my neck, holding me in place so I can’t escape his desperate kiss, even though I don’t want to. I am desperate for this kiss, I want more. I reach up to pull him closer to me but he captures my wrists and holds them above my head. I groan in his mouth as I feel his erection grinding into my hip. Oh please…

“Come home with me,” He says, and I can hear the lustful desperation in his demand. I’m about to say yes when suddenly, we hear footsteps coming up the wooden stairs to the porch and a voice only a foot or so away calls my name.

“Ana?”

Reluctantly, I turn to look at the person who is speaking. It’s one of Carter’s friends that I recognize as Kyle, who I met at the frat party we went to. Carter is standing next to him and he’s glaring daggers as Christian and I.

“You told me you weren’t dating,” Carter says in a low, shaky voice and I realize he’s trying to control his anger. “You said that all of this wasn’t because of Grey.”

“It wasn’t. I…” I start but he holds his hand up to stop me and, perhaps, to try and suppress the anger he’s feeling. I can see him shaking and it’s making me nervous. Christian grabs my arm and pulls me behind him protectively.

“What the fuck is going on?” Kyle asks, confused. “Did you two break up or something? I thought she was your girlfriend?

“She was,” Carter says darkly. “And then I found out she was a whore.”

Christian moves so quickly, I don’t know what’s happening until it’s already happened. Carter falls to the ground gripping his face as blood starts to gush down his face. Christian shakes his hand to relieve the sting and then moves towards Carter, only to be stopped when his friend grabs Christian’s shirt to stop him.

The door to the house opens and Kate and Elliot come out.

“What’s going on?” Elliot demands, staring at Christian worriedly. Carter stands up, holding his hand to his nose to try and staunch the flow of blood.

“You can have her, Grey.” He spits venomously. “I don’t know what I ever wanted with this slut anyway.”

Christian moves threateningly towards Carter again, but Elliot steps in the way.

“Come on, bro, let’s take a walk. Calm down for a minute,” He says in an even tone, forcing Christian to make eye contact with him. Christian is shaking as Carter is rushed in the door by Kyle and when the door closes behind him, Christian pushes angrily away from Elliot and storms off down the street.

“I’ve, uh… got to go deal with that,” Elliot says. “I’ll call you in a little bit and let you know what’s up. Why don’t you guys head home and maybe I’ll see you there later?”

“Okay,” Kate says, leaning forward to kiss him gently. “Be safe.”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with this,” He says. “I’m sorry, Ana.”

“Just make sure he’s okay,” I croak and I realize, there are tears in my eyes. Kate wraps a protective arm around me as we watch Elliot chase Christian down the street.

Next Chapter

“Why are you here, Christian?” I ask, wondering how much I should read into his choice to come, maybe she cancelled on him.

“For you,” He answers, and I narrow my eyes suspiciously.

“So it’s over between you and Mrs. Lincoln? You ended it?”

His mouth tightens and I watch him inhale slowly and deeply as if he has to prepare himself for what he’s about to say.

“It’s over,” He says. “I’m out.”

“I thought you said you couldn’t leave her until the spring?”

“You said you wouldn’t wait,” He says. “I’m not going to watch you fall for Carter Reed.”

Oh shit, Carter.

“He’s still my boyfriend, Christian,” I say, automatically scanning the room for any sign of Carter, but I still don’t see him.

“It’s early,” He says defiantly. “And a much more even fight this way.”

He holds his hand out towards me, urging me, again, to take it.

“Dance with me, Ana,” He says and it sounds more like a command than a request.

I look around the crowded room for Kate returning from the bathroom. I’m still holding her drink and I still haven’t forgotten the last time I held a drink and Jose asked me to dance. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that humiliating moment toweling him off in the kitchen.

“I’m not much of a dancer,” I admit, turning my attention back to Christian. “We should go outside and talk.” He nods and motions for me to lead the way.

I feel his fingertips brush lightly across my lower back as we walk through the crowd and each touch sends an electric pulse through me. What am I doing? At any minute, my boyfriend could emerge through the crowd. I can’t be seen alone with Christian after my kiss confession, and I can’t allow his touch to have this effect on me anymore. We made rules. No kissing anyone but Carter Reed. I repeat the words over and over in my mind, hoping my resolution will strengthen with repetition.

“Ana!” I hear Kate yell through the crowd, and I turn to see her wading her way through the hoard towards me. She sees Christian and her expression changes with her surprise.

“Oh hi, Christian. I didn’t think you were coming,” She says, looking between the two of us. Her eyes stop as she sees his hand resting on my back and I watch the corner of her lips twitch.

“I just found Carter,” She continues. “He’s playing beer pong in the kitchen. He wanted me to ask you if you wanted to come be his partner.”

“Umm…” I stammer looking back at Christian whose eyes have gone cold at the mention of Carter. Oh great. What am I supposed to do now? I can’t exactly leave Christian, he doesn’t know anyone here. On the other hand, Carter is my boyfriend and it would be wrong, even cruel of me to choose another guy over him, especially in front of his friends. The whole situation just makes me want to leave the party and not deal with any of it. Hmm… maybe that’s not a bad idea, not choosing a side. It’s a neutral compromise. Besides, this party is a little too crowded for my liking anyway and I could use the extra sleep tonight since I’ll be studying for midterms all next week.

“I’m actually not feeling in the party mood tonight,” I tell Kate. “I think I’m gonna head home.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, looking suspiciously at Christian.

“Yeah, do you wanna go?”

Kate shakes her head.

“No, if you want to leave I’ll hang out and play beer pong with Carter. Can you get home okay by yourself?”

“I’ll take her,” Christian says, and again Kate’s eyes narrow. She reaches forward and pulls him close to whisper in his ear and I don’t know what she says but when she releases him, Christian rolls his eyes.

“Ana, can I talk to you alone for a sec?” Kate asks. I nod and turn to Christian, holding up a finger to let him know I’ll be ready to leave in a minute.

“What are you doing, Ana?” Kate asks when we’re out of earshot of Christian. “Your boyfriend is over there waiting for you and you’re going to leave the party with another guy?”

“We’re friends, Kate. That’s all. Nothing is going to happen. You’re welcome to come if you want and so is Carter.”

She looks worried and I think she might say something but she just nods.

“Be safe. Call me if you need me,” She says and I hug her.

“Have fun!” I say with a wave and then I disappear into the crowd of dancers behind me. Christian grasps my hand and leads me through the throng of people and I’m grateful for the cool, clean air that fills my lungs when we get outside. Frat houses smell like stale beer and pee.

I follow Christian down the stairs and up the street a little ways until he pulls out his keys and points the key fob at the car parked on the other side of the street. Christian gets into the car before I do and when I slide into the sleek leather interior, he turns on the car and I’m surrounded by a sound a lone woman singing in latin to a mournful orchestral piece. It’s beautiful but dark and I turn to look at Christian, curiously. Surely this is an odd choice of music for a 19 year old college student.

He reaches over to turn the stereo down just as he pulls out of his parking spot.

“That’s nice,” I say. “What is it?”

“Dvorak’s Requiem,” He says.

A requiem, that’s a little morbid for driving music, isn’t it? I look out the back window as we pull onto the street and notice a gym bag and a small carry on size suitcase in the back seat.

“You packed?” I ask him.

“Yes,” He responds quietly.

“You were going to go? You were going to meet her?” I accuse him, and he refuses to look at me.

“I thought I was,” He admits. “But I hadn’t even gotten off campus before I realized that I was driving to you.”

I look down at my hands, which are folded in my lap, and smile, pleased with the thought that Christian was driving to meet me. I immediately feel guilty however as I remember Carter back at the party playing beer pong with my best friend. Is Kate right? Is this wrong?

My worries are diverted by Christian’s ringtone and I watch him pull the phone out of his pocket, reject the call and set the phone in one of the cup holders in the center console. I’m wondering why this Mrs. Lincoln doesn’t seem to be able to take no for an answer when the phone buzzes again and I look at the notification on the screen which says: 19 New Voicemails.

19 voicemails?!

“You didn’t tell her you weren’t coming?” I ask harshly. It’s not as if I pity her for sitting alone in a hotel room where she was waiting to prey on a man half her age, but why wouldn’t he tell her it was over between them? Is it so he can change his mind later?

“No I haven’t spoken to her,” Christian says. “It will be better, easier, to speak with her when she’s back in Seattle.”

“Easier? What are you going to break up with her over a text message?”

“No. But telling her in person right now will be counter productive. She isn’t going to be happy.”

“So? Breakups are hard and she’s a grown woman. What are you afraid she’s going to hit you or something?”

He doesn’t answer but I see a muscle in his jaw twitch and I feel as though a bucket of ice water has been poured over me.

“You’re afraid she’s going to hit you,” I say, and it’s an accusation rather than a question. Again, he doesn’t respond and his silence is all the affirmation I need.

“Oh my god,” I say. “Christian, if she’s abusing you, you need to talk to-.”

“It’s not like that,” He says sternly.

“What do you mean? What’s it like?” I ask but he shakes his head.

“I don’t want to talk about this with you, Anastasia,” He says firmly but I refuse to be dismissed.

“No, Christian, this isn’t okay and this isn’t like, gray area not okay. If she’s hurting you, she needs to be reported to the authorities.”

“It’s not like that,” He says again. “Just… trust me, okay? I don’t want to talk about it, but it’s not what you think it is.”

I frown, unconvinced by his reassurance. The image of him playing the piano in the main lobby of Gray’s hall all those weeks ago flashes across my mind. He had gone to see her that weekend, and when I saw him there, alone in the dark, his face had been red. I had wondered if he had been in a fight. Was that her?

I don’t know what to do. I feel like this is one of those situations that they tell you about when you’re a kid, like one of those bad after school specials. I’m supposed to tell someone… but Christian isn’t a kid and from what Elliot said he comes from a loving family, surely he knows what abuse is?

The memory of Elliot telling me about Christian’s past in the diner comes back to me. When they found Christian he was showing signs of neglect and physical abuse.

Oh no. No. No. No. I sit there feeling as though I’m drowning in helplessness as I really don’t know what to do. Who can I talk to? Kate will tell Elliot and Elliot will tell their mother and if it really is nothing, if I’m wrong it could be damaging to their family on a real level.

Christian’s phone rings again and I glare at the phone in the console, wanting desperately to answer it and give the bitch troll a piece of my mind. Bitch Troll? Hmm, I like it. I think it fits her nicely.

Christian reaches over and ignores the call again and I find that it makes me glad. I don’t want him to tell her it’s over in person. I don’t want him to speak to her at all. I want her to stay as far away from him as possible.

“What is it, Anastasia?”Christian asks, and I can hear irritation in his voice but I don’t know if it’s with me or with the buzzing sound of voicemail #20 coming through.

“You’re okay, right Christian? I mean, I’m not going to regret not telling anyone about…”

“It’s fine,” He says exasperatedly. “I’ve already told you, Anastasia, it’s not what you think. My relationship with Elena is complicated that’s all. There are just somethings that will be easier for us both to rationalize if I leave time for emotions to calm down.”

I nod uncertainly but decide if he’s ending it with Mrs. Lincoln, there really shouldn’t be any reason for me to be concerned.

He pulls into the parking lot outside of the dorms and as we get out of the car I can hear the phone ring again.

“Jesus, why don’t you just turn it off?” I snap.

“That’s you,” He says flatly, and I jump as I realize he’s right and begin frantically searching through my jacket pockets for my phone.

“Hello?”

“Ana, where’d you go? Kate said you weren’t feeling good?” Carter asks concerned.

“Oh hey, no I’m fine. I’m just tired. How’s your game going?”

“Great. Kate’s got one hell of an arm on her.” I smile as I can almost hear him smiling through the phone.

“She’s had lots of practice,” I say with a laugh.

“We’re up again,” Carter says hurriedly. “If you’re alright then I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” I assure him. We say goodbye and I hang up the phone.

Christian doesn’t say anything but it’s as if his already bad mood has soured even further. He pulls out his bag and suitcase from the backseat of the Audi and we walk up the path to Grays.

“Do you want to have breakfast together in the morning?” He asks when we reach our respective rooms.

“Yeah, sure,” I say and he smiles and pulls me into a one armed hug. I breathe in his scent, the intoxicating mix of spicy body wash and Christian Grey and I feel a warm sense of comfort wash over me like coming home after a long, weary day.

“Goodnight, Anastasia,” He says, kissing the top of my hair.

“Goodnight, Christian,” I reply, and we leave the hall and close our doors behind us.

I spend the next day avoiding Kate as much as possible. When she got home after the party, I pretended to be asleep and then I left too early for my first class so that I could sneak out while she was at the gym the next morning. She texted me to meet her for lunch but I told her I had to meet a professor to discuss a paper I’d gotten back. In reality, I’m just not ready to face her questions about Christian yet.

When I leave my last class, I’m looking through my ipod for the perfect song to clear my head while I make the walk back to Gray’s. I’m surprised, however, to see Carter standing outside the class waiting for me.

“Hey, babe,” He says with a smile. I smile too as I pull my earbuds out.

“Hey, what a pleasant surprise. What’s up?”

“What are you doing right now?” He asks, and I look at him suspiciously.

“I was thinking about taking a nap,” I admit. “And then probably spending the rest of the night in the library studying.”

“Go without the nap,” He says. “Come on.”

He grabs my hand and pulls me down the hall of the English department after him and I giggle with anticipation. He leads me out to the parking lot where he takes my bag from me and places it in the backseat of his Mazda and then opens the passenger door for me.

“Where are we going?” I ask, and he looks at me deviously.

“It’s a surprise,” He says, and he motions for me to get into the car. He closes the door behind me and then climbs in the driver’s seat. An hour later, we pull up a dirt road into a farm with an apple orchard behind a scenic red barn. I smile as he climbs out of the car, takes my hand, and leads me to the farmhouse where he pays for a large wooden basket for us to collect apples in. We spend the afternoon walking through the fragrant trees, picking apples and talking.

I can hardly believe he thought of a date so perfect. When I was little, Ray used to drive me to an apple orchard outside of Montesano every fall and we’d pick apples to make into homemade applesauce that we’d can and have all winter. My mom hated being outside in the orchard climbing up and down ladders all day so it was always something that Ray and I did, just the two of us.

It’s been difficult, every time I’ve thought of Ray since he was deployed. I got a call from him just before he left the base in Texas but nothing, no phone calls or letters, since he’s left for Iraq. I try and write to him every chance I get even if it’s just to remind him how much I love him, but I’ve had no responses. I know he’s busy but I hate worrying about him. The distance is the hardest part of all and being here, smelling the apples in the sun of late autumn makes me feel closer to him than I have since I’ve been to school.

Carter is the perfect gentleman. He helps me up and down the ladders and carries the bucket as we walk from tree to tree. When we’ve picked all the apples our basket can hold, he takes my hand and we walk through the field of tall barley adjacent to the apple orchard. We talk about everything: our families, favorite childhood memories, and books. We have to agree to disagree on preferences between American and British Literature but after a long indepth discussion that gets rather heated at times, we both agree that Fitzgerald was without question one of the most transformative authors of the 19th century, and he picks me up and swings me around with joy at my admission. I giggle joyously as he sets me down in the long yellow stalks and he looks down at me adoringly. He hesitates for a moment and then leans in and kisses me. It takes me by surprise because the kiss is firm, yet soft. His tongue gently caresses my bottom lip and it sends a shiver of pleasure through me. When he stops the kiss, I’m left breathless and wondering where that came from.

Gently, he leans his forehead against mine and our noses touch.

“Better?” He asks quietly and I pull my head away, confused by his question. Oh no.. how does he know? Is he okay? Crap.

“Relax,” He says with a soft laugh. “Kate and I talked for a while last night and she told me…”

“Kate!” I hiss venomously. I’ll get her back for this.

“It’s okay, Ana,” He assures me. “But why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know how…” I admit bashfully.

“Look,” He says hesitantly. “I’m new at this. I’ve never actually had a girlfriend before and after talking with Kate maybe the kissing thing was why. I might not be good at this so I need you to be honest with me.”

“I’m new at this too,” I admit, and he smiles at me.

“Then we’ll learn together,” He wraps me in a hug again and then takes me by the hand and leads me back through the field.

“She didn’t like, kiss you right?” I ask, embarrassed. “To show you how to I mean…”

“No, I spent hours last night reading tips on the internet,” He admits with a laugh and as I too begin to laugh he pushes me playfully and then brings me under his arm, holding me close to him as we walk back to the car.

“Goodnight, baby.” He says softly once we’re standing outside of the main doors to Grays.

“Goodnight, Carter.” I say and he leans down, kissing me softly. I smile as our lips part, so happy we’ve made it over this hurdle. I watch him walk away and I feel like twirling I’m so giddy. It’s been a perfect afternoon. I was right to try with Carter.

I struggle to make it through the door as my apple basket is a little awkward but when I make it into the main lobby, I see Christian sitting at a table in the sitting room with Ros.

“Anastasia!” He calls out, getting up from the couch and walking over to where I’m waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

“Hey, Christian,” I say and he looks down at the basket in my hands curiously.

“What is that?” He asks.

“Fresh picked apples,” I say, reaching into the basket and pulling an apple out for him. “Want one?”

He takes it and smiles down at me. I’m happy to see him smile, he seems much happier today than I have seen him for awhile and I wonder what the reason behind the change is.

“Do you want to study for our British Literature midterm tomorrow night? 6 o’clock in the library?”

“Sure,” I say and then look over his shoulder. “Hi, Ros!”

“Hi, Ana!” She replies brightly with a wave. I smile at her and then turn my attention back to Christian.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” He affirms and he watches me as I climb the stairs.

“What are we supposed to do with all of these?” Kate asks as I put the basket of apples on top of the dresser.

“An apple a day…” I say brightly and she rolls her eyes.

“How was your date with Carter?” She asks, a little too smugly. My mood falters slightly as I remember the conversation Carter and I had on our walk.

“Why would you tell him what I told you about the kissing thing?” I demand.

“You weren’t going to say anything,” She says.

“Yeah, Kate!” I say, as if the reason I wasn’t going to and why she should have is something obvious that she’s just not seeing.

“I was nice!” Kate protests. “He was worried about you and Christian and frankly… so was I. I was just trying to help and he appreciated it.”

I want to argue but I guess she’s right. Carter didn’t seem angry or upset about it and it really did help.

“Just, in the future, don’t.” I say and she shrugs.

“What is going on between you and Christian anyway?” She asks. “And don’t give me that we’re just friends crap. I see the way he looks at you Ana.”

“It’s complicated,” I say, and she looks expectantly as if she’s waiting for an explanation.

“Oh, Kate. I don’t know what I want to do,” I say, feeling as though I’m finally able to vent my frustrations over Christian. “I really like Christian, more than I should I think, but Carter is wonderful too. We just had the most amazing time and he was so thoughtful and sweet. It’s easy with him and Christian is… difficult.”

“Difficult?”

“There’s just more that has to be worked out with Christian and he really doesn’t like Carter. It makes being friends challenging.”

“Just be careful,” She warns. “I don’t want to see you getting hurt.”

The next day, Carter texts me and asks if I want to meet him for lunch. I tell him Kate and I are having lunch in Annenberg and he should meet us there. When I get to the dining hall, I get a text from Kate telling me that she has to run back to our dorm before heading over for lunch so I find Carter and we fill our plates together and find a place to sit in the crowded hall. He tells me about the brutal lecture he just had and I sympathize with him as he tells me the struggles he’s having getting prepared for the midterm in his most difficult class.

“I might be MIA, a little.” He admits after telling me about all the extra studying he’s going to have to do.

“That’s fine, I’ll be busy. Just text me and let me know how you’re doing.”

“I will,” He says and then he looks up over my shoulder and nods. I turn and see Kate coming up the center aisle towards us.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” She says, sitting next to me. “I got the mail though and there was a letter for you from Ray, Ana.”

Kate reaches into her bag and pulls out a crinkled letter addressed to me in Ray’s handwriting. I take if from her excitedly and rip it open, happy for finally hear from him.

“Who’s Ray?” Carter asks as I begin reading through the letter.

“Her stepdad,” Kate answers through a mouthful of food. “He’s in Iraq.”

“Oh that’s right, I think she told me about him yesterday.” He says, though I can barely hear him. My hands start to shake as I read the words my father has written to me. A week ago, he and his squad were out on a patrol when the vehicle in front of them rolled over a buried IED. The vehicle was blasted into the air and rolled over seven times before finally coming to rest. Ray and the rest of his men dug through the burning wreckage for their fellow soldiers but none of them survived.

“Ana, what’s wrong?” Kate asks in a panic. My breathing has become shallow as terror grips me. I think I’m about to hyperventilate.

“The-There was an accident,” I say breathlessly.

“What!” Kate gasps in panic and I hold the letter out for her. “Oh my god, Ana!”

She wraps her arm around me as Carter takes the letter and reads through Ray’s description of what happened.

“Ana, baby. He’s fine,” Carter says, dismissively. I think he’s trying to play it off as not being a big deal to calm me down but his cavalier attitude deepens the ache in the pit of my stomach and I feel as though I’m about to burst into hysterics.

“Ana, he’s okay,” Carter says again, reaching over to rub my back. “He just had a scare but stuff like this happens all the time.”

Kate reaches out and pulls me into a hug and glares at Carter.

“Uh… I’ve got to get to class. Are you going to be okay, babe?”

I nod slowly as Kate releases me but to be honest I think I’m in shock. I watch Carter leave and then look down at my cell phone. I also need to get up and leave for British Literature.

“I’m going to be late,” I say softly and Kate looks at me, concerned.

“Are you sure, Ana.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say, fighting off tears. I pick up my bag and the letter and quickly get up from the table and rush out of the dining hall. The truth is, I’m not okay. Not by a long shot. I’m not going to make it to British Literature, I’m not even sure I’m going to make it back to my dorm. I rush as quickly as I can up the path to Grays and feel heavy, wet tears begin pouring down my face as I burst into my room and slam the door behind me. I collapse on my bed and cry into my pillow, sobbing so hard I have trouble breathing.

I don’t know how long I lay there crying but it doesn’t stop and eventually I hear a knock on the door.

“Anastasia?” Christian’s concerned voice comes through the door. I can’t respond to him. I can’t speak. All I can do is cry as anxiety and panic overrun me. I hear the creak of the door as it opens.

“Oh god, Anastasia.” Christian says, almost scared. I hear him shut the door and then the bed depresses with his weight as he sits next to me. He lifts me from my pillow and pulls me into his chest.

“What’s wrong?” He asks softly, brushing his fingers through my hair as I ruin his most likely expensive shirt with my tears. I can’t answer him so I just reach for the letter and hand it to him before collapsing into him again and bawling once more. He reads as I try and control myself.

“Oh my god, Ana!” He gasps horrified, setting the letter down and holding me tightly. I breathe in his scent deeply and it does seem to have a calming effect on me.

“He c-c-could h-a-ve been in the…” I try to say but my ragged breathing cuts off my words as I once again burst into tears.

“I know, baby,” He says gently. “But he wasn’t. He’s fine. He’s going to be okay.”

He adjusts me so that I’m laying down again and then he lies next to me, holding me while I cry. The endless tears are exhausting and I don’t know how long I lie there bawling in his arms before eventually I cry myself to sleep.

Next Chapter