I can't thank all of you enough for your kind reviews and messages. While I hope to update on a more regular basis, it's difficult. I have every intention of sticking with this story until the end. So even if you don't hear from me for a little while, I'll be back. The past couple of months have been pretty crazy. First there was a death in the family and I wound up in Florida for two weeks to help move my aunt back up North. Then I was asked to teach summer school and I just got my FIRST REAL TEACHING JOB, so I've been super busy with planning lessons and setting up my new classroom.
I've been toying with the idea of creating a Pinterest page for this story. I want everyone to see the dresses I have picked out for the Coping Together Ball...
Anyway...here it is! This is a pretty long chapter and it repeats some of what happened in the previous chapter, but from Christian's POV. Let me know how you feel about the overlapping-I enjoy seeing/writing scenes from different perspectives. Plus, I wanted to get some more Grey family in! Enjoy!
Chapter 6: Normaling*
June 5, 2011
Christian
I pull the R8 into my parent's driveway and my eyes are instantly drawn to the light blue deathtrap posing as Anastasia's primary source of transportation. I can't imagine why anyone would choose to drive something so…unsightly. As far as I'm concerned, Wanda is nothing more than a large piece of scrap metal with seats and a steering wheel. The fact that Ana drove this thing from Portland to Seattle is surprising and more than a little disturbing since it doesn't even look roadworthy.
"I'm not getting in that thing," I say to Taylor as I slip the gear shift into neutral and pull up the emergency brake. The two of us step out of the car simultaneously, and Taylor immediately makes a beeline for the little bug, circling it and inspecting the frame with interest. He's probably uneasy about driving that pile of shit back to the city. Hell, I'm nervous for him.
"You're sure you don't want to drive it?" he asks, taking off his sunglasses and shooting me a wry smile. I glare back, deciding his smart-ass question doesn't warrant a response. If he thinks this is funny, he's insane. I don't find the fact that Ana drives this thing every day to be even remotely amusing. It makes me uneasy.
"This car can't be roadworthy," I scoff, doing nothing to hide my distaste for Wanda.
Taylor shrugs. "It's a classic."
"Classic, my ass," I snort. "As I said, I'm not getting in it." Taylor pulls Ana's car key out of his jacket pocket and fights with the front driver's side door to get it open. I frown at the sight, instead picturing Ana struggling to pry the door open on a daily basis. "Is there anything you can do to fix that before we get it back to her?"
Taylor looks at me like I'm completely insane,-which is definitely where I'm headed-but nods. "I'll see what I can do, sir."
"Good." Feeling uncomfortable with the transparency of my affection for Ana, I look anywhere but at Taylor. "I'll be back to Escala soon. You can take off whatever remains of the day once we figure out what to do with Wa-Ana's car." And now I'm calling the car by it's name. When did become such a pansy?
"Yes sir." Taylor turns his attention to the interior of the car, pushing the key into the ignition and getting a feel for the clearly-difficult-to-maneuver steering wheel.
Before I have a stroke over how unsuitable this car is for Ana, I turn around and head to the house. I haven't taken more than two steps and my mother pops out the front door to greet me. It's more than likely that she was sitting on the living room couch watching Taylor and I since the moment we arrived. She and Mia are famous for watching Elliot and his dates from the same spot.
"Christian," she exclaims, smiling widely. "I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon." She clears the small landing in front of the entryway and meets me halfway between Ana's car and the house, giving my forearms a squeeze when she reaches up to place a gentle kiss on my cheek.
"I need to speak with Mia," I explain, looking past her and into the house through the open door. Usually she meets me out here.
"Is that Taylor in Ana's car?"
"Yeah." My mother gives me a stern look. "I mean yes," I say with a roll of my eyes. I'm in my late twenties for fucks sake. I don't need someone correcting my language. "Where's Mia?"
"What are you two doing with Ana's car?" Clearly my mother is going to ignore everything I say unless it isn't polite. I follow my mother's gaze and turn around to see Taylor finally moving the car toward the end of the drive. He stalls at the edge of the road, forcing me to bite back a laugh. I'll have to bring that mishap up later.
Despite finding it funny that Taylor, the man who drives me around almost every day, stalled Ana's car, a twinge of anxiety runs through my body when I remember, once again, that the vehicle belongs to Anastasia. I've often felt protective of people, my family especially, but with Ana it's different. This anxiety, this restlessness I feel when I think about something as simple as her driving Wanda is paramount to insanity. I've only known her for fourteen hours. And what do I really know about her? She's beautiful and smart. She cooks and she's caring. She… I need to get my shit together. Seriously.
Despite acknowledging in my own mind that I'm acting completely crazy because of this Ana situation, unconsciously my hands form fists at my sides and I can't help what comes out of my mouth next.
"Ana should not be driving that car," I say a little too intensely. My mother gives me a quizzical look then smiles at me, her eyes dazzling in her I-know-what-you're-thinking expression. Great. "I mean…no one should be driving it. It's clearly unsafe."
"Christian, I'm sure it's a fine car." What? Is she blind? Maybe I'm not the only crazy one.
"Taylor could hardly get the door open," I grumble. Why didn't I think of asking Taylor to total that thing on his way back to Escala? I could buy her a new car as an apology and she'd be none the wiser to the scheme. This is a plan I like, but I'll have to figure out how attached Ana really is to Wanda before doing anything drastic. Judging solely by the fact that she refers to it by a name, I assume she really is quite attached.
My mother shakes her head, but continues to wear her little smile. "Now, why is that you and Taylor are taking Ana's car?"
"She said she was going to take a cab out here to get it." I grasp my mother's arm, leading her back in the house while we talk. "I offered to do it instead. I have Taylor to help me."
"Well, isn't that sweet of you," she says, craning her neck to look up at me after we stop in the foyer. I shift back and forth on my feet, uncomfortable with my mother's scrutiny.
"Where's Mia?" I inquire, again. Her expression grows grave, and I can tell that something concerning Mia has really pissed her off.
"She's upstairs. Sleeping." I raise an eyebrow, prompting my mother to continue with her story. She's trying to be evasive, but as always it doesn't take much to get her talking. "Apparently she and Elliot got into the liquor cabinet last night. They left quite the mess in the kitchen: dirty shot glasses, empty beer bottles, liquor all over the breakfast table. They used some half-stale Triscuits to eat some of the Almas caviar you got me for my birthday, but it was left out all night so I had to throw it away." That shit was expensive, assholes.
"I'll get you more." I do have some business in London soon, and I really don't mind dropping $24,000.00 in a specialty store on something as trivial as caviar for my mother.
"That's very nice of you, sweetheart, but I don't need more. Besides, I don't think it's even legal in the United States." It isn't, but since I don't have to go through customs…I don't care.
"I have to go talk to Mia," I say, jerking my head toward the stairs.
"Come find me before you leave," she calls out as I make my way to the second floor, taking two steps at once. "I'll be in the kitchen or in my study."
I reach the landing and walk down the hall toward Mia's bedroom. The walls, like the rest of my parent's house, are adorned with family photos and a number of paintings created by local artists and/or my siblings and I. Our parents made us take painting classes when we were children, but I quick when I was twelve. Elliot, though it comes as a surprise to most people, is quite a talented artist even though he no longer dabbles in the trade. Mia and I are not gifted with that ability, but our shoddy work is still showcased throughout the upstairs hallway. It would be too fucking embarrassing if my parents allowed people up here. Anastasia was up here last night…Wonderful.
When I knock on Mia's door, I'm greeted with only a faint moan. I take that kind of rude response as an invitation to just walk right in.
I'm always taken aback by the size of Mia's bedroom. As soon as Elliot and I were out of the house for good, our parents remodeled Mia's room by knocking down the wall to the adjacent guest bedroom and joining the two to make a monstrous 'princess suite'. Elliot and I joked for years afterward that Mia was clearly the favorite child. Maybe she is. I wouldn't be surprised; Elliot and I were little shits growing up.
Even with the curtains closed, the color of the room is nauseatingly pink. My plan had been to tear them open, but I think I'll save myself the eyesore. Instead, I grab the chair from Mia's vanity and loudly drag it to her bedside. I almost knock over the empty plastic garbage can that I'm pretty sure was put next to Mia's bed just in case she needed to get sick in the middle of the night. Fucking Elliot.
Mia stirs underneath the covers and pops her head out, giving me a dirty look. "Look Christian," she starts with a raspy voice, "I am not in the mood for a lecture. I've already gotten it from mom."
"I'm not here to give you one." Even though I would like to chastise her for getting plastered, I'm here for one thing and one thing only: Ana's phone number.
My sister gives me a skeptical look. "Sure you aren't." She flips over, turning her back to me. "You can go now."
"Stop." She pulls the blankets over her head. "Turn around and look at me." Her hand comes out of the covers and flips me off. Now I'm getting pissed. "I'm going to tickle you if you don't fucking cooperate."
Mia's voice is muffled by the thick mountain of blankets covering her face, but I can still make out a, "No you won't." She's right I won't. I know she hates it, and it looks terrible.
"Why are you being so difficult?" I ask too loudly. "I'm seriously considering taking away your car right now." Mia stirs and rolls around in her blankets until her angry and very bloodshot eyes meet mine. I knew mentioning the car would turn things in my favor.
"If you aren't here to lecture me on the perils of drinking at home with our brother, then what are you here for?" She's pissed, or just annoyed and really, really hungover. I'm betting on the latter given our mother's description of the kitchen this morning.
"I need Ana's number." I shrug, trying to play it off like it isn't a big deal. Mia's expression changes to complete and total glee, shooting me the same smirk she was making at Elliot every time I caught them talking in hushed voices last night. Great.
"Do you need Ana's number or do you want Ana's number?" Are these things mutually exclusive? Maybe I both want and need her number. I know the truth though: I concocted a scheme that requires me to need her number because I want it. Actually, fuck that. I need Ana's number.
"Taylor just took off toward Escala with her car. So, I need it." She rolls her eyes at me, but doesn't turn over or flip me off again. "Now."
"You could have just called me for her number and saved yourself the trip. We both know Taylor and another minion of yours could have taken care of Wanda." I can tell Mia is as big a fan of Wanda's as I am by the way she says the name.
"I called you three times and you didn't answer." Because you're fucking hungover. I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from adding that last bit. Mia reaches across the bed to grab her cell phone off of the little white side table next to her bed, and starts flipping through it.
"Hmm. I guess I didn't hear it." She gives me a sheepish grin. "I could just call Ana for you. Save you the trouble." Mia must notice the disappointment that comes over my expression before I put my poker face back on because her little grin morphs into a huge smile and she squirms around.
"That's not necessary, besides we'll need to coordinate pick-up or drop-off times. It will be easier if I have her number." That sounds convincing. Right?
"Fine. I'll give you Ana's number under one condition."
"Just give me the number," I say, shooting her my biggest smile and slouching back into the chair. She always says it's the one I use when I want to get my way.
"Your stupid…face does not work on me, dear brother of mine." It would be sort of creepy if it did, I guess.
"Fine," I concede. "What's the condition, Mia?" She probably wants a new car or for me to bankroll her latest culinary venture, both I would be more than willing to do with or without Ana's number. If I didn't think Ana would question where I got her number from, I would have put a call into Welch last night and had it before I went to bed. That might be looked at as creepy.
"We-as in you and me-are going out to dinner this week. Just the two of us." I smile and nod because that isn't exactly a terrible condition. We used to do lunch or dinner at least once a week before she went to France. "And I get to pick where we go."
"Okay."
"And I get to order for you." That is not going to happen. Wouldn't that be emasculating?
"No." She narrows her eyes at me and opens her mouth to argue, but I start before she does. "Yes to dinner, just the two of us. You can pick the restaurant, but you will not be ordering for me."
"Deal-breaker, Christian." And people wonder how I became a talented negotiator at such an young age. She's immovable when she wants something. "You almost always order for me." I guess it's a valid point, but I refuse to let my little sister order my dinner. For once she isn't getting her way with me.
"Fuck, Mia," I scoff under my breath. "I refuse to let you order dinner for me. Just concede that one point."
"No," she whines, sitting up in bed and crossing her arms over her chest. She is so fucking spoiled.
As a last resort, I decide to say something I don't often say. "Please?"
Mia's eyes widen in shock and she tries to fight the smile that moves over her lips by rolling them together. "Did the great, indomitable Christian Grey just say 'please'?"
"He did." I nod and run my hands through my hair. "And if you tell anyone…" I trail off and Mia laughs before her face contorts in pain. Her hands fly to her temples.
"Ugh! I'm so hungover. Even laughing hurts."
"Fucking Elliot," I grumble. I know he isn't completely at fault here. Mia can make her own decisions. But, I can't help being pissed off at him for getting her wasted even if I know it's an irrational reaction.
"Fuck-ing Elliot." She pauses and slumps down into her bed once again. "Fine. Dinner. Just us. Restaurant of my choice. But, since you're forcing me to concede my last point, you owe me one." She points her little finger in my face, so I smile and nod my head. "To be determined at a later date."
"We'll see about that."
I stand up and carry the chair back to the vanity while Mia picks up her phone and starts tapping away at it. "There. I just texted you Ana's number."
"That wasn't difficult, was it?" When I look up at Mia, I catch her sticking her tongue out at me. I can't help but laugh at her childish antics, and in response she throws a pillow at me, hitting me square in the face before I fumble to catch it before the overstuffed object hits the floor. "What the hell?"
"Oh, stop! You're fine, ya big baby."
I make my way back to Mia's bed and give her little outstretched hand a squeeze before turning around and heading to the door. "I hope you feel better, Minnie. Next time just tell Elliot 'no'."
"As of right now, I don't think I'll ever drink again," she groans as she curls up on her side and I open the bedroom door.
"I've heard that before."
"And you'll probably hear it again. I have no willpower." At least she knows.
I close the door behind me and take off through the house, stopping first at my mother's study only to find that she isn't there. When I reach the kitchen, I find her looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows and sipping coffee out of her 'Seattle Children's Hospital' mug. When she turns around, I'm met with another large Grace Trevelyan Grey super smile. Even after all of these years, I never expect it.
"Did you get what you needed from Mia, sweetheart?"
"Yeah. It came at a price though," I reply, grinning.
"It usually does with you two." She pauses and drums her fingers along the sides of her mug, regarding me with soft eyes. "You're awfully pleasant this morning Christian. 'Smiley', as your sister would put it. Did you secure some big, life-altering deal this morning?"
Unsure of how to respond to my mother's prodding, I take a moment to wrack my brain for a suitable answer that will explain my more-pleasant-than-normal mood. Certainly, I can't tell her that I'm in a better mood because I finally have a name to go with the beautiful face of the girl from graduation. It probably isn't the best idea to say anything about Ana since I get 'smiley' even when I think about her. In the end, I decide to go for part of the truth.
"I didn't work this morning, but I did sleep well last night." I shift around in my chair, avoiding my mother's eyes. Surely, she's as surprised as I am at this confession. "Better than usual at least."
Sleep. It's the one thing I've never done well. Building a multi-billion dollar company from the ground up - no problem. Sparring with a former Olympic champion kick boxer three times a week - sounds fun. But the one thing I can't master, the one thing that continually eludes me, is a good night's sleep. It's a problem, but it's one that I've come to terms with. I accepted the situation years ago, and having never had a proper night's rest, sleep isn't something I'd say I've missed.
Over the years I've tried various methods to facilitate sleep, even working twelve to fourteen hour days with some excessive exercise thrown in. Neither seemed to help the situation. My mother and Mrs. Jones has attempted to ease my efforts with various homeopathic remedies: aromatherapy, magnesium-rich dinners, Valerian root. None of them have worked. Hell, even Flynn's sleeping pills don't help much, and to make matters worse, the pills make it harder to wake up from my frequent nightmares.
For twenty-seven fucking years I've been sleep deprived. Until today.
I woke up in the throes of a familiar nightmare, much the same as I normally do. But, the difference between this morning and the nine-thousand some other mornings of my life up to this point, is that it was nine o'clock in the morning. I don't remember the last time, if there even was one, that I slept until nine o'clock. I fell asleep around three in the morning, and had a solid six hours of uninterrupted rest. It may not be too remarkable to the average person, but for me it is.
Despite the nightmare, I hopped out of bed feeling like Clark Kent. Fucking Superman. I didn't even get the full recommended amount of rest, and right now I'm positive that I could fly if I slept for a full eight hours. This is incredible.
So, what was different about last night? Besides the one that woke me up, I had no nightmares. I had dreams. Good dreams. Dreams that involved the warm, soft body of the beguiling Anastasia Steele. While I've dreamed of Ana between our first encounter and our official introduction last night, those dreams were tinged with the sad idea that she was lost to me forever. More often than not, they morphed into nightmares.
When I got into bed last night my mind was still spinning from seeing Ana again. I've been jerking it to the mere memory of her walking in my direction for a few weeks now, so it makes sense that her presence would manifest itself in my dreams after having the chance to actually interact with her.
"That's wonderful news, Christian. Did you try something different last night?"
Yes. Instead of fucking my submissive, I let her go and spent the rest of the night fantasizing about Mia's friend. "No. I worked late, but that's nothing new."
"Whatever helps, I guess." She turns around to look out the window once again.
This time I follow her stare and notice my father and Elliot milling around the backyard with a weed whacker and a pair of garden shears. Even from this distance, I can tell that the two of them are completely miserable. I raise an eyebrow when my mother turns back toward me, an unspoken question appearing across my features.
"Those two shouldn't drink together," she states. I know that. "Your father was a mess last night, and Elliot…I followed a trail of his clothes to the living room couch where he was…" She trails off, shaking her head. "Actually, don't even get me started. If I hadn't raised him, I would never believe he's thirty years old."
"So you're punishing them?"
"Not exactly," she purses her lips together. "I needed some yard work done before the Coping Together Ball."
"Don't you have the landscapers coming over this week?" I know she does. They always come over the week before the big event to touch up the backyard and make sure everything is presentable for Seattle's finest.
My mother smiles and brings the coffee mug up to her lips in an attempt to hide her not-so-secret glee. She shrugs and swallows a large gulp of coffee. "What are you doing for the rest of the morning?"
"If you think I'm sticking around to help those two, you're crazy." I have better things to do. Like Ana. "You could always ask Mia." Yard work with Mia would be complete and total torture. I doubt she even knows how to hold a rake.
"That would be a sight."
"Indeed." I close the space between us and stoop down to kiss her lightly on the cheek. "I should get going. Taylor's taking the rest of the day off once we figure out the situation with Ana's car."
"As I said, this is all very sweet of you." She tentatively reaches up and pushes her fingers through my hair. "Thank you for being so nice to her. Ana seems like a great friend for Mia to have. She's very kind, driven, intelligent…beautiful too. Don't you think?"
I stand in the middle of the kitchen, regarding my mother and attempting to figure out how best to answer that question. I have no doubt in my mind that she knows exactly what I was up to when she interrupted Ana and I in front of the picture wall last night. She's just being nosy because I refuse to discuss this with her. In the end I decide to ignore her fishing.
"I have to go." I pull away from my mother and quickly make my way to the front door.
By the time I make it back to Escala, I've realized that I have absolutely no idea what to say to Ana when I get her on the phone. Surely it won't be like talking to any of the other women in my life. My social interactions with women have been largely limited to my female family members and employees…and Elena. Though I've had plenty of interactions with my submissives, our conversations never strayed too far from the you've been a bad girl and need to be punished conversations.
I spend about twenty minutes pacing around my study with my thumb hovering over the call button before I remember that I'm Christian fucking Grey and need to get my shit together. I sit down at my desk and relax into the soft chair. Taking in a deep breath, I steal another minute to decide exactly what I'm going to say while on the phone with Anastasia. Should I make a note so I don't forget anything? No. Maybe? No, absolutely not.
"Fuck," I breathe while raking a hand through my already fucked up hair. Why does this girl get me so worked up? Fuck this.
I tap the call button and immediately regret the decision, but realize that there's no going back now. Hanging up while it's already ringing seems a little too crazy stalker-ish, and I'm trying extremely hard to not be that guy.
After three agonizingly long rings, Ana answers the phone. "Hello?" Her voice is soft and breathy and an instant turn on. I shift in my chair before responding.
"Hi, Ana?" Shit, that wasn't supposed to come out as a question. "This is Christian." Fuck, she might not be expecting me to call. "Grey. This is Christian Grey." My hand makes its way to my nose, pressing on the bridge in an attempt to ease my wracked nerves. If this is an indication of how the rest of the conversation will go, I'm fucked. I sound like a nervous teenager.
Eventually the phone call veers toward something I can deal with: discussion of my family. Ana's frequent giggles make me instantly relax and I can't help the smile that comes across my face when she calls me by my first name. Why do I find that so fucking hot? When she calls me 'sir', I almost come in my pants and wind up inviting her over for lunch on a ridiculous impulse.
After I've pushed end and finished the call, I find myself sitting at my desk staring at my phone in complete disbelief. The control I've so desperately tried to hold on to for my entire life completely goes out the window when I'm with Ana, on the phone or otherwise. Surprisingly, it doesn't seem to bother me. There is something about this woman that makes me…want. Want to be normal. Want to be around her. Want something other than what I currently have.
With this realization, I begin to panic. How is that the lack of panic makes me panic? I should be elated, but I'm not. What could this possibly mean for my future? What does this tell me about my past? Was Elena wrong? Did I really need control for all of these years? Or did I need something else?
With these thoughts in my head, I make a quick call to Taylor, asking him to head down to the lobby and wait for Anastasia to arrive. When I'm done with him, I call the one person I know will have something to say about my dilemma: Flynn. Like the money-hungry asshole he is, my call is picked up between the first and second rings.
"Christian! To what do I owe the pleasure of a call on a Sunday?" He's absolutely gleeful. How can I blame him though? He bills triple his normal charge for Sunday calls. "Problems with your newest submissive?" he asks in his English accent, chuckling like the prick he is.
"No," I say in a surly tone. "I dismissed her last night, but that's not why I'm calling. I don't have much time. Anastasia will be here soon."
"Anastasia?"
"I've told you about the girl from the WSU graduation already, but that's her name."
"Okay. Tell me what's going on?" he asks, his serious psychiatrist persona taking over.
I suck in a deep breath and slump down in my chair. "It turns out that she's one of Mia's friends. They just met and Mia invited her over for dinner at my parents' house last night." I go into all of the details from the previous night, all the while keeping a close eye on the clock. Fifteen minutes.
"So you almost kissed her last night?"
"Twice. I almost kissed her twice."
"Okay. You almost kissed this Anastasia twice." He sighs and starts to say something else, but I interject.
"I never do that with my…with my submissives. It's used as a reward in most cases because it's sort of too personal. I find that it gives them the wrong idea about my intentions. But it's like I couldn't help myself with her." Fuck…ten minutes.
"And today you invited her over for lunch even though you had no intention to do so?"
"Yes," I confirm, gritting my teeth together. "It just came out of my mouth before I really thought about it, but I'd be lying if I said I'm not glad I asked."
"So it's the loss of your self-control that's bothering you?" And here comes the shocker, good doctor.
"No. The problem I'm having…" I stop and gather my thoughts. "I guess what has me panicked is that I am not having a problem with losing that level of control over my actions. If it's going to help me to get closer to Ana…then I don't really care. But I've never not cared about losing it like this before." Seven minutes.
"You've never lost it like this before."
"True."
"There is something about this woman that intrigues you. Just go with it." The fucker laughs and I wish I could reach through the phone and throttle him.
"There's something else."
"Go on."
"Last night when I was…thinking about her-"
"Sexually?"
"Yes, sexually." I've talked to this man about a substantial number of shocking sex acts, but for some reason this is difficult to talk about. Maybe because it's unfamiliar? "The way I thought about her was different than how I normally…fantasize about women."
"Different how?"
"I can see her eyes, like she's looking at me. It isn't the normal planned out scenario that the playroom affords me. She isn't tied up…" Just as I'm described the fantasy that brought me to climax more than once last night, a knock sounds on the door of my study. "Hold on a moment."
"Okay," Flynn says, and I can tell he's smiling.
"Come in." Taylor enters into the room and I know that Ana is here. She's in my apartment.
"Sir, Miss Steele has arrived." No kidding. I give him a look and he smirks. "She's in the great room."
I nod toward the phone in my hand. "This will take only a minute to wrap up. Wait for me outside." Taylor nods, turns on his heel, and heads to the hallway.
"I'm back. Ana's here." I thought that there would panic in my voice, but surprisingly there is none. As anxious as she makes me, it's a good kind of anxiety.
"I think we should discuss this further."
"That's probably a good idea, but I have to go. I'll have Andrea give your office a call tomorrow morning to figure something out."
"That's fine. Christian, just go with it. Most relationships aren't defined by contracts and hard-limits. Spend time with her if you want to spend time with her. If you want to kiss her and she wants to kiss you, then kiss her. This is just a lunch with a normal girl. Try not to take out any submissives contracts and have a good time." The sound of his familiar chuckle resonates over the line, causing me to smile.
"I can probably make it through a lunch without taking out a contract," I say, shrugging my shoulders. Flynn's advice seems valid and for the first time in our relationship, I consider following his advice.
"Now, as much as I've enjoyed a somewhat bashful Christian Grey, I should let you get going." I've never been described as bashful before, but maybe it does apply within these odd circumstances. "I need to meet Anastasia if she has this effect on you."
"She'll be at the Coping Together Ball, but there's no way I'm letting you talk to her." I chuckle and the two of us exchange a brief farewell before I stand and make my way to the door of the study.
As expected, Taylor is waiting for me. The two of us share brief words while making our way toward the great room. When we cross the threshold leading toward Anastasia, I feel the now-familiar wave of energy course across my skin. Looking up, I meet Ana's eyes and the smile that spreads itself across my face is unavoidable. She looks absolutely breathtaking.
I reluctantly tear my eyes away from hers to finish up with Taylor. About halfway through telling him to enjoy the rest of his day with his daughter, I realize that I've never said that before. I turn away and head toward Ana after I notice Taylor's surprised expression. Yeah, I don't know where that came from either.
Even though Ana looked wonderful in her dress last night, the casual jeans and t-shirt she's wearing today puts her natural, effortless beauty on display. I feel like I'm finally getting a proper look at her. The fabric of her clothing clings to the roundness of her soft curves. Ana's chestnut colored hair falls around her shoulders in gentle waves that nearly reach her slim waist. My mind instantly wanders to what those silky tresses would feel like if I ever get the chance to run my fingers through her hair.
The most tantalizing aspect of her standing in my apartment has to be the way she's standing. Her arms are folded across the middle of her back, pushing her perfectly constructed chest forward. My eyes are instantly drawn to those gentle peaks, and if it were polite to stare, I would. What I would do to get her topless…I need to nip these kind of thoughts in the bud before she notices my growing erection and runs the fuck out of here before I have a chance to feed her.
As much as I'm enjoying the view of Ana's body, the wind is almost completely knocked out of me when my eyes reach her face. Her lips are red and swollen, and within my first few steps she takes the right corner of her bottom lip between her teeth. My eyes instantly flit between that fucking lip and her eyes several times. I smile instantly when I notice that she is getting as good a look at me as I am of her. She must feel this too. Or she just appreciates the pretty face. For once I don't even care if that's all it is on her end.
A lot of women paint their faces up in an attempt to look better. Ana blows them all out of the water with her minimal makeup. I noticed it last night, and I've noticed it again today: this girl doesn't need anything to help accentuate her good looks; she's flawless. Her skin is smooth and creamy and I want nothing more than to feel it against mine. So when I get to her, I take her little hands in mine. That jolt of…whatever the fuck it is runs through my body the moment I touch her. It's exhilarating.
As I lean in to her, Ana's face turns up and I find myself lost in her unbelievable eyes. I pause and breathe out her name before my lips move of their own accord to press a kiss into the silky skin of her cheek. It's like my brain is taking a break because surely I could have come up with something more…smooth as a greeting. I mean, her name? Really, Grey?
Ana lets out a long torrent of warm air that I contemplate trying to breathe in, but don't because that would be the creepy.
"Hi Christian. How are you today? I think I forgot to ask you on the phone earlier." She scrunches up her nose, averting her eyes, and I smile because it's the cutest thing I've ever seen. "Which was rude. I mean…who forgets to ask that?" Me. Because I didn't ask either.
"Breathe Ana," I say because I sense she's about to really ramble. "I'm quite well today. I forgot to ask you too, so don't worry about it." She looks back up at me and smiles. I'm taken aback, once again, by her beauty and take a second to compose myself. "How are you today?"
Still smiling, she replies with, "I'm good." I take the opportunity to tease her about being an English major and not using proper grammar, but am quickly shot down with the sexiest sounding 'Mr. Grey' that I've ever heard. I have to take a step back because my…body is reacting to the address in an extremely inappropriate way.
When she takes off on a nerdy little rant about fucking adverbs and adjectives, I can't give her all of my attention. Half of my brain is completely focused on the authoritative tone she's using and the sexy fucking serious expression on her sweet face. I knew she was smart, but listening to her talk about something that I've never put much thought into is ridiculously stimulating. Her intelligence, her brain is doing weird things to my erection. Are all women this entertaining to speak with and I've just been too big of an ass to notice? Surely not. It has to just be Ana.
"We can go over all of that at a later date if you so wish." Anything to see you again. Now that she's finished, my hands try to make their way up to my hair, but I stop them at my lips. My fingers trace over my smile in a poor attempt to substitute her swollen pout. I need to kiss her. Need. To. Kiss. Her.
I clear my throat at the realization that it's my turn to speak, and notice her eyes outlining my face and neck. "You're right. You can teach me all about the finer points of English grammar another time. Come." I grab her hand and relish in the electricity produced by our contact.
Ana giggles as I pull her behind me in the direction of the kitchen, and I can't resist stealing a glance at the junction of our hands. Her skin is so incredibly soft and smooth under my fingers. When we reach the kitchen, I hesitantly break our contact and take in Ana's flushed cheeks and the silky skin of her long, elegant neck as she stands across from me. I wonder if all of her skin is as beautifully soft as the skin of her hand?
I fold my arms across my chest and meet Ana's wild blue eyes. "I wasn't sure what you would want, so I figured we'd decide together once you arrived. I hope that's okay."
"That's fine. I'm really not all that picky," she replies, rocking onto her toes and pushing her hands into the back pockets of her tight jeans. "What do you have to offer?"
What do I have to offer? A million thoughts race through my mind. I could just offer her lunch, but she and I both know that I want to offer her something else. When she unwittingly sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, I lose it and stalk across the kitchen with the sole intention of touching her. Finding out how soft the rest of her is.
"I have a lot to offer you, Ana." Do I?
A stray strand of hair has fallen in front of her face, and I reach up to push it behind her delicate ear. Before I have a chance to pull away, my hand acts of its own volition and brushes down her hair, settling on the smoothness at the base of her neck. At the same time, my right hand takes advantage of my mindlessness and traces the curves down the left side of her body. Gently, I push her backward, trapping the hands in her back pockets between the counter and her slim body.
She can't touch me, but I can touch her. Fucking perfect.
Ana's eyes have settled somewhere on the floor between us, so I take advantage of her shyness and explore her countenance without any reservation. But I need to see her eyes. The eyes that have been haunting me for weeks. I have to explore them, commit them to memory.
"Look at me." My voice doesn't sound like it usually does. It's softer, huskier. The change brought on by this woman's proximity. Her eyes trail up my body slowly, until they meet mine. I'm immediately stiff, straining against the buttons on my jeans.
Ana's eyes are incredible and just as I remember them, a light blue made brighter in contrast to her porcelain skin and dark hair. Almost aquamarine. Her expression has desire written all over it, like she's begging me to kiss her. Flynn's advice comes unbidden into the forefront of my mind: If you want to kiss her and she wants to kiss you, then kiss her. Goddammit, do I ever want to kiss her. I want it…and I think she wants it too.
Once again, my brain-to-mouth filter is compromised, and my thoughts come through my mouth in a whisper. "I just need to do something before we eat lunch."
I seal the minuscule space between us with my body and trace my fingertips from Ana's collarbone to the thick hair at the base of her neck, gathering it and gently pulling until her entire face is in view. Christ, her hair is soft. She is incredibly beautiful. Now fully pressed against her body, the already wild energy between us goes into overdrive. I search her face for any indication of hesitation, and finding none, I bring my lips to hers.
I've imagined this moment for weeks, and I'm completely taken aback when her lips are even softer than they are in my fantasies. I let my free hand roam the side of her body, taking in every dip and curve, collecting them for my daily fantasies. My tongue traces her lips and when she lets out a soft moan in response, I slip my tongue in her mouth and grind my hips into hers.
She tastes sweet, better than anything-or anyone-I've ever tasted before. I could easily lose myself in this. But I don't give a fuck because it feels out of this world. Ana just feels right. After a quick moment, Ana's tongue tentatively reaches out to explore me the same way I'm exploring her. Once again, the electricity between us flares and I'm lost to the sensation of her little body pressed up against mine.
If I don't stop now, I won't be able to. I pull away slightly and rest my forehead against hers. I open my eyes and search Ana's face as she lets out a warm, shaky breath. When her blue eyes meet mine, an involuntary smile spreads across my face and I close my eyes once again.
"You are so sweet," I murmur, brushing my mouth across hers in a tender kiss. In all of my sexual escapades over the years, I have never done anything like this. It feels so intimate and I fear that my heart is going to beat out of my chest, but not with panic. This, whatever this is, is a completely new feeling.
I take a step back, realizing that I want to take her right here, right now in my kitchen. But how would I even go about that? Though her kiss was exquisite, it hinted at inexperience. Surely, she wouldn't be interested in what I normally offer women. Usually, I would tell one of my subs what I wanted her to do, but I have a feeling that's not how something normal works. Besides, I want to experience Ana not some contrived situation borne of my fucked-up imagination. Everything feels natural with her and for some reason unbeknownst to me, I don't want to take away from that.
Seeking a reprieve from my lust-induced thoughts, I turn away from Ana and open the refrigerator. "Incidentally, I do have quite a few options to offer you for lunch. My housekeeper, Mrs. Jones, keeps me rather well-stocked." I have to use every remaining ounce of my dwindling self-control to sound and appear unaffected by what just transpired between us.
She sidles over to the appliance to search inside for something lunch-appropriate, and as soon as she's next to me, I feel a desperate need to reach out and touch her. Again. My hand finds the small of her back, and the current running between us is once again magnified.
We go through a few options, and I draw her body closer to mine so that we're pressed up against one another, face-to-face. The moment I pull her body flush against mine and look into her eyes, I hear the familiar ding indicating the arrival of the elevator. I'm not expecting anyone, but the moment I hear the click-clack of heels on the marble floor and a familiar shrill voice calling my name, I'm unsurprised by this visitor's presence.
My entire body tenses upon hearing Elena's voice call out my name. I absolutely do not want Anastasia's innate goodness anywhere near that woman, so I re-position our bodies with Ana standing behind me. If she's here to discuss last night's dismissal of Molly, then I need to take control of this situation quickly.
"Christian!" I hear again. Has her voice always been so terrible?
"We're in the kitchen, Elena." The tone of my voice is unintentionally sharp and uninviting. I do not want her here while Ana is here.
When she enters the room the surprise on her face is obvious, but there's something else lingering behind the shock of finding me with the sweet, normal girl standing behind me. Is it disappointment or is it amusement? Whatever it is, it instantly flares some sort of protective instinct in me and I'm immediately on the edge of what little control I have left.
After griping about my absent staff, Elena finally takes notice of Anastasia. "And who's this?" she asks with a denigratory tone. She's clearly taken by surprise that I would have someone here so soon after Molly's dismissal. Little does she know that this is a completely different situation.
When Elena attempts to expose the fact that there was a different woman in my apartment last night, I direct her to my study in a hurried attempt to separate my past with my…whatever Ana is.
Ana stares after Elena's retreating form and I can't take my eyes off of her, hoping she doesn't react adversely to whatever the fuck that just was. When she turns around, her expression looks a little lost, a little apprehensive.
"I'm sorry, Ana. I need to go take care of this," I sigh. "That's my mother's friend," and my former Domme, "and we do business together." She finds me little brunettes that like to be whipped hard and fucked harder. I watch as her face falls in disappointment, and my heart breaks just a little at the sad expression slowly taking over her countenance.
"Okay," she nods. "I can get going then." My heartbeat speeds up, the muscle slamming against my chest, because I don't want her to leave. Not yet.
"No. Stay," I blurt. "This will only take a few minutes." I'll make sure of it.
After Ana agrees to wait for me, I promise her I'll be as quick as possible with Elena. Making my way to the study, I can't help but look back at her one more time. She is the perfect amalgam of adorable and beautiful, of innocence and sexiness. Elena better make this fucking snappy.
I enter my office in a hurry, immediately pinning my glare on Elena's face. "Five minutes, Elena. You can have five minutes of my fucking time," I say, holding up the fingers on one hand.
She remains silent and maintains our heated eye contact as I make my way behind my desk and into the chair I often rule my empire from. The atmosphere in the room is heated with our egos. I know she feels disappointed that I dismissed another of her 'perfectly matched' submissives, and I'm pissed that she interrupted the limited time I have with Anastasia. Elena breaks the silence with a forced snort, and I compel myself to tamp down the irritation I feel boiling inside.
"You can't be serious Christian," she scoffs, gesturing to the closed door of my study. "Who the fuck is she?"
"I already told you." I'm not giving her any more details. I shouldn't have even given Elena Ana's name.
"A friend of your sister?" She taps her blood-red nails on the arm of the chair opposite my desk. "That doesn't explain why she's in your apartment making eyes at you."
"I don't need to explain myself to you. I haven't had to do that for the past six, almost seven years." Her face falls, and I notice the tell-tale angry tic of her left eyebrow. "Four minutes."
"Four minutes my ass, Christian." I shoot her a warning glare and she shrinks just a tad. "Is she why you dismissed Molly?" I don't want to answer that question, so I don't. I continue to stare at her and her botoxed lips turn into a lopsided smirk. "If she is the reason, you're in for a rude awakening, darling. A girl like that one in your kitchen-"
"You don't know anything about her," I interrupt, but Elena ignores me and forges ahead.
"-will bore you within a few days time. Don't think I didn't see those puppy-dog eyes and that godawful girl-next-door outfit. She will never want to do what you do with women." Like I don't already know that.
"Who says that's what I want with her?" I ask. Elena's face morphs into something akin to surprise, but she quickly regains her stone-cold composure. "Two minutes, Elena."
"You're attracted to her? Great." I open my mouth, but she stops me from speaking. "Don't even try to deny it. It's written all over your face." Elena lets out a chuckle and reaches across the table to grab my fisted hand. "What you're feeling-that desire-it's a chemical reaction in your fucking brain and we both know you're better than that.
"Sure, try something with her," she continues in a flippant tone. "Go vanilla for all I care! But we both know that you have very specific needs. What do you think will happen when you show her your playroom? Do you think she'll be interested in participating in that with you?" She attempts to raise an eyebrow, but it doesn't quite have the effect she's going for. "You'll chew her up and spit her out because she can't live up to your expectations. It happens every time, Christian. It happens with women who know what to expect from you. You've caused irreparable damage to the hearts of your submissives. You will break that one."
I feel my stomach twist in response to the truth in Elena's words. The only thing I could possibly do to Ana is break her. She's so sweet and I'm nothing more than a monster. A giant asshole who does nothing other than run people down and spank women into submission.
"Furthermore, any relationship she has with Mia will be completely shattered when you fuck it up." And there we are. The biggest reason I can't let this go any further. Mia would be…upset and out a good friend when I mess things up. "Just imagine what will happen to Ana when you bring her to your playroom. You. Would. Hurt. Her. Or she would run away screaming before you had the chance."
Elena's words sting, but I know what a fucked up bastard I am. She's planted a seed of doubt in my mind and I understand the reality of everything she's said. I would definitely hurt Ana in some way, and I don't want to do that. Not intentionally and not unintentionally, but it's probably inevitable given my past. Now that Elena has painted the picture of Ana being treated like all of the other women who have come and gone from my playroom, I can't help but see how much being with someone like me would cause damage to a beautiful, trusting woman like her.
"Your time's up," I whisper. I grab Ana's car key off the desk and shove it in my pocket as we both stand and make our way out of the study. As we enter the great room, Elena grasps my forearm and smiles affectionately at me.
"I'm not trying to hurt you Christian. I'm just telling you the truth." I nod because it's so like Elena to give me the hard truth of any situation. "If you want Molly back, I can probably arrange something."
"No," I say immediately, firmly. I don't want anyone other than Ana, but now I'm not so sure about that.
"Fine," Elena scoffs. "I can show myself out."
Elena walks ahead of me and I hear her mumble a farewell to Ana before making her way to the elevator. I hang back for a moment and try to calm the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, but the thought of Ana alone in my apartment urges me forward.
When I reach the kitchen, Ana's back is to me. She has a cutting board out, along with a variety of knives from the knife block. Before I make my presence known, I just watch Ana and absorb her sunny disposition. She's so beautiful, and I could destroy her. She slices Gail's kaiser rolls then moves on to a head of romaine and a ripe tomato. Once she puts the knife down, I clear my throat.
Ana turns around and smiles her winning smile. I feel my heart constrict and for some reason, I find it difficult to take in a full breath. Because of Elena I've lost my confidence and high from our interaction earlier, and I don't know what to say. Luckily, Ana speaks first, her musical voice caressing my ears.
"I hope this is okay." She gestures toward the sandwich fixings on the counter. "I know we agreed to make lunch together, but I got excited and started." Could she be any more perfect? "I put the macaroni and cheese in the oven. It probably only needs another five minutes or so since you have some kind of super-oven." Yes, she can be more perfect.
"Super-oven?" I smile, attempting to push back all of the reservations clouding my mind after my discussion with Elena.
Ana shrugs her shoulders. "Yup."
My feet move forward of their own accord until I'm standing right in front of her. Despite all of the doubt Elena left stirring in my mind, the pull I feel toward Anastasia hasn't weakened at all. It's like we're magnets, drawn together by some invisible force. I take a deep breath and turn away before I steal another intimate moment.
"I've never actually used the oven," I confess, taking a seat at the breakfast bar. Ana giggles and I can't help the smile that the sound brings to my lips. "I don't even know what brand it is. Mrs. Jones picked everything out when she started working for me."
Ana hums her understanding and turns her attention back to slicing the tomato. I stand there and just watch her. Everything is done with complete ease. It's clear that she wasn't exaggerating when she mentioned her affinity for cooking at dinner last night. When she's done with the tomato, she spins around and opens the refrigerator, pulling out the turkey Gail sliced before taking off for the weekend. I like seeing her comfortable in my kitchen. It stirs something in me that I can't quite place.
"Where are your plates?" she asks, turning around to face me. I start to stand, but she stops me. "No, sit. I'll get them. Let me take care of lunch since you took care of my car situation this morning." I grin and search her face in my bewilderment. She's seriously amazing. Besides Grace and Mia, I've never had a woman take care of me without her being hired help or ordered to do so as my submissive. Ana's doing it because she wants to and I like it. I enjoy her taking care of me.
Sitting back down, I point to the cupboard to the left of her head. "They're in there." She turns around and tries to pry open the cupboard, eliciting a chuckle from deep within my lungs. Ana peeks over her shoulder at me, scowling. It's fucking adorable. "You have to push the cupboard doors in to open them." She follows my direction and succeeds in opening the cupboard.
"I see." She pulls out two plates and begins to make the sandwiches. Once she's assembled the lettuce, tomato, and bottom half of the bun, she turns back around to face me. "Do you prefer mayonnaise or mustard on yours?"
"I'll have whatever you're having." She purses her lips and turns back around. My eyes are once again drawn to her perfect ass. I can't help but think of the many things I would enjoy doing to it, to her, as she shimmies around the kitchen. How is it possible for someone to be so appealing?
Ana walks over to the oven and takes out the pan of macaroni and cheese with potholders that materialized out of thin air. How did she find those? She sets the hot pan on a wooden trivet and takes off the tinfoil covering the dish before scooping healthy portions onto both of our plates.
When she turns around, she has a plate in each hand. "Ta-da!" she laughs, making her way to me at the breakfast bar. "Can we eat on the balcony? I was looking out there earlier and it's so nice out today and I-"
Sensing she's about to ramble again, I stop her by leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to her soft lips. The second I realize what I've done, my inner-monologue becomes a war of advice. I have Elena on one shoulder reiterating that Ana and I are completely incompatible. I will hurt her one way or another. Then there's Flynn on the other shoulder telling me to just go for it. I want to kiss her and I think she wants to kiss me. I pull away slowly and push back the argument into the recesses of my mind.
"Whatever you want," I croak. Ana's face contorts into confusion, as if she senses the debate going on within me. "Follow me."
I grab both of the plates from her hands and lead the way to the glass doors of the balcony. Looking down at our lunch, I smile at the similarly arranged dishes. On my plate is a huge sandwich and an equally large portion of macaroni and cheese, but on Ana's there is only a half sandwich and a smaller helping of pasta. Her consideration makes me smile.
Ana and I settle into neighboring chairs at the wrought iron and glass table set out on the balcony. I hand her the larger plate clearly met for me and she laughs. "What's so funny Miss Steele?"
"I think you know." She reaches out for the smaller plate, grinning like it was the best joke she's ever heard. I don't think I've been this at ease with anyone, ever. "I couldn't eat that much if I tried, and if I remember your speech from graduation correctly, you aren't one to waste food, Mr. Funding-Third-World-Agriculture."
She picks up her sandwich and digs in, but I'm left staring slack-jawed at the fact that she remembered the speech. "You remember that?"
Ana covers her mouth and holds up a finger, indicating that she needs a minute to swallow. I start my meal as I wait for her to answer. "Yes. It was a good speech." She shrugs her shoulders. "But, I have a crazy good memory. I remember everything. Just the other day, Mia and I were eating lunch at this little bistro and this woman came in, and I instantly recognized her as the girl who sat three rows down from me at a Mariners game two summers ago. We never even talked." She takes a small bite of the macaroni and cheese. "It happens all the time. I can even recite a large portion of the Prologue to The Canterbury Tales. Kate calls me 'rain woman'." She rolls her eyes at the last bit, but I'm unsurprised at the information. I already knew that Ana is clever.
"Rain woman?" I don't get the joke.
"It's a movie? Rain Man?" Ana stares at me like I'm crazy. "Tom Cruise and Dustin Hoffman?"
"I guess I've heard of it."
"You've never seen it?"
"No. I don't really watch movies or television."
"Not even when you were younger? It came out in the late eighties, I think."
"Not even then." I laugh at her bewildered expression. I've never had a 'movie night' with anyone, but for some reason it sounds appealing with her. Sitting in a dark room, pressed up against Ana… "Maybe we can have a movie night? You could introduce me to everything I've been missing."
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I'm left with a ringing in my ears. I can't lead this sweet girl on the rocky path that is my life. Elena might not be the best judge of character, but she definitely knows me through and through. But then again, Flynn seemed to have some hope for the situation.
"I think I would like that." She smiles and my reservations give just the tiniest amount. I don't want to deny her anything, but I might have to. I'll talk to Flynn first.
"So, tell me…are you excited to start your job tomorrow?"
Ana looks up at me and starts chatting my ear off about everything under the sun. We spend the last five minutes of lunch in companionable silence, but I know she can tell something is bothering me. When we finish, I lead her back to the kitchen where she offers to do the dishes.
"You made the meal. I can handle the cleanup."
"How very democratic of you," she teases. Ana grabs the ancient little phone out of her back pocket and checks the time. "I have so much to do today."
"Yeah, me too." Its sort of a lie. I just need to get her out of here before I do something more stupid than make out with her in my kitchen. There is far too much to consider when it comes to pursuing something with Ana. "I'll bring you down to the garage."
I lead Ana to the elevator, careful to avoid any physical connection. That current that runs between us will completely tear apart my resolve to keep our farewell platonic that I've mustered together in the past half hour. As much as I want Ana, I don't think any type of relationship would be good for either of us. If I break her, like Elena prophesied, it would hurt me. I don't want to hurt her, but I know I eventually will.
As soon as the elevator doors close and we start to move, I'm taken completely off guard. For some inexplicable reason, possibly our proximity in such a small space, the atmosphere becomes charged with that invisible electricity. It seems to bounce of the walls and batter every square inch of my body. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Ana's breathing change and I can feel my heart race.
I turn toward her, forgetting every shred of my earlier apprehension and tearing down any ounce of self-control remaining in my body. Ana's chin rises, her eyes meeting mine, and I'm lost in them, lost to instinct. In one stride, I have her pinned up against the wall, one of my hands holding her arms behind her back, the other slipping into her hair. Our eyes never break apart.
Her chest heaves in a heavy breath and when she breathes out it's with my name on her lips. It sends me completely over the edge. My mouth latches onto hers, and we kiss with a fervor unparalleled by anything I've ever experienced. It's a hungry, soul-searing kiss and I feel like I could devour her right here, right now. We're nothing but a tangle of tongues and a symphony of moans.
When the doors of the elevator open in the basement of my building with a ding, I lean my head back, keeping my eyes locked on Anastasia's. She grins happily up at me and I return the gesture, completely baffled as to what just happened between us. I peel myself away from the soft warmth of her body and reach for the same hand I used to pull her through my apartment earlier just to feel her skin and that unexplained current that runs between us.
Neither one of us says anything on the short walk to Wanda. When I slip the car key out of my pocket and into her free hand, it's with a heavy heart. I wish she could stay. I wish I could ask her to stay.
I open her door for her and it comes easily, showing that Taylor did have a chance to fix it. I stoop over and rest my forehead against hers, closing my eyes and relishing the last moment we have together until the Coping Together Ball next weekend. I stand back up and take in everything that is beautiful about this girl.
Before she climbs into the car, I run my fingertips down the soft skin of her cheek and she gives my hand a short squeeze. When our hands part, I'm left feeling bereft. Completely incomplete without her touch. As she closes the door and starts the engine, I turn back toward the elevator because I can't bear to watch her pull away.
When the elevator doors close, I trace the contour of my lips and realize I'm still smiling.
The apprehension Elena instilled in me earlier this afternoon has completely dissolved. It might be selfish, but how could I willingly let go of something that feels this fucking good?
*Normaling refers to a hilarious episode of 30 Rock. In said episode, Jenna and Paul are trying out a new kind of kink that they call 'normaling'. Basically, they begin acting like an average couple and can't deal with having a 'normal' relationship minus their usual crazy sexcapades. There are a few clips on YouTube, if you're interested. Search 'normaling 30 Rock' and they come up.
