Hello Ladies! Sorry it took so long, I just finished moving into my new dorm; it's been a hectic week, and I wanted to make this chapter long and fun! The last few have been intense, so I wanted a light chapter to break things up.
Thank you all for your extraordinary reviews, I adore reading them. I'm happy that many of you picked up on the clues to Ana's past. I'm also ecstatic about the reaction to her being familiar with BDSM; that mixed with her past relationship will make the big reveal very interesting. Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing; I really appreciate you guys spending time reading my story or looking at the Pinterest. Speaking of Pinterest, I have put a few more pictures up so check it out. The link is in my bio.
P.S.: A special thank you to SuzB. You are an amazing person, your reviews are always so kind and insightful and thank you so much for the review that you left on 'Only Your Housekeeper Knows For Sure' I was so touched. You are amazing!
I keep stroking his hair when an unwelcome thought pops into my head; I stop mid stroke.
"Why did you stop?" Christian asks softly.
"Did you grab the eggs?" I ask.
"Hmm?"
"The eggs, Christian, please tell me that you grabbed them," I plead.
"I don't know; why does it matter?" he whispers. "Keep running your fingers through my hair, I like." His eyes blaze into mine and he gives me a small, shy smile.
Suddenly, I forget all about the eggs and I resume stroking his soft, silky hair. He lets out a soft sigh of contentment and pulls me closer, his eyes still locked on mine.
"Yet another first," he mutters quietly, mostly to himself. We stay like this until the elevator slows then comes to a halt. Christina lets out an exasperated sigh and presses his lips to mine tenderly then pulls away complete.
Disappointment rushes through me, I want to stay in his arms for the rest of my life.
WHAT?! OH No! We are not doing that again. Don't go there! My subconscious screams at me. Always the downer.
Christian bends down picks up the bags, then looks through them. He looks back at me, a lazy grin on his face. "I have the eggs!"
I let out a sigh of relief. "Thank God!" I pick up the bags that I dropped just as the doors open.
An elderly couple that I've seen a few times step in and smile at Christian and I. We both nod back and smile politely. They press the button with '6' on it and I reach and press the '14'. I move back to stand closer to Christian. He looks down, an amused expression on his face.
"What?" I mouth.
He just shrugs but otherwise says nothing. The ride to the sixth floor is quick and before I know it the couple bid us goodbye and step out. Now it's just Christian and I.
The electric current is still there; it's always there. I look at Christian from the corner of my eye and notice that he's looking at me the same and I break into a fit of giggles.
"What is so funny?" he asks, suppressing his own laughter.
"We've been in this elevator for the past 10 minutes. This is ridiculous, the security guard is probably having a field day with this. I don't think this elevator has seen this much action before," I say through my laughter.
"There could be more action," he says seductively and steps closer to me.
"Don't you dare! We'll never get out of here and I hate elevators," I warn.
"I like them, especially with you." He winks.
Thankfully the elevator stops and the doors open; I run out of there like a bat out of hell. Christian follows after me laughing.
"I don't find it funny." I pout as I open the door to my apartment. I drop the key into the bowl on the table and walk into the kitchen.
"You were fine the other times we rode the elevator," Christian says behind me.
I drop the groceries on the kitchen island and look at him. "I know but we were in the elevator for a long time. Now help me put the groceries away."
He sets his bags on the island and turns to me. "First show me that dress."
I laugh as I open the fridge door, "In your dreams," I say and grab the bags with the vegetables.
I open the vegetable drawer and bend down to put everything in the drawer. I hear Christian groan. "What?" I ask.
"Are you trying to kill me?" a sigh escapes his lips and runs his hand through his hair.
"What are you talking about?" I ask as I put away the milk and eggs.
"Nothing, never mind. Where do you want this?" he ask holding up the cereal.
"In the cupboard next the fridge," I tell him. Working together we put the groceries away in no time.
"All done," Christian says with a triumphant grin on his handsome face.
"Thank you," I say. I look at the clock, it's only 2pm. More than enough time for a nap, I think longingly.
"My pleasure, so what-" the shrill ringing of a phone cuts him off. He reaches into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out his blackberry. He looks at his phone and frowns. "Grey," he snaps.
He listens intently for a few minutes, the frown deepening. "Can this be handled tomorrow? I don't have access to my computer."
He listens again for another minute. "Okay. I will call you back in half an hour." He hangs up, no goodbye.
"Is something wrong?" I ask.
"People don't know how to do their fucking jobs," he sighs and slams his phone on the island. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.
"Do you have to go home?" I ask, failing to keep the sadness from my voice. Please don't go, I silently beg.
He sighs. "I have to take care of it," he says sadly.
"Do you need a computer? You can use mine," I suggest a little too quickly. Great, now I sound desperate.
A small smile appears on Christians face. He considers my suggestion, "I can log on to the office from any computer. Good idea, Dr. Steele. But I don't want to bore you," he says.
"Don't worry, I will be taking a nap while you work. When you're done we can go to Toys-R-Us," I reassure him.
"Sounds like a plan," he says and steps closer to me. "You look exhausted. You don't get enough sleep." He runs his thumb under my eye.
"I'm a surgeon, I don't need a lot of sleep," I laugh and turn to get my laptop. "Here you go. If you want you can work in my office, it's the second door on the left. Or you can sit here or wherever; make yourself at home," I tell him.
He nods as I hand him the laptop. I turn and walk into my bedroom, once inside I strip down to my Victoria's Secret lace underwear set and throw on my oversized Brown Bears t-shirt. I set my phone on the table, put my hair in a messy bun, and get in bed.
Just as I get comfortable I hear a knock on the door. "Come in," I yell out.
Christian pokes his head around the door. "Do you mind if I work here while you sleep? I promise I won't disturb you."
You better say yes, my subconscious yells.
"Sure." I move over and pat the empty space near me. A beautiful grin spreads on his face. He walks into my room and closes the door behind him. He kicks his shoes off and steps into bed, he lays the laptop down and arranges the pillows behind him and leans on them.
He places the laptop on his lap, looks down at me and smiles. "You look so young."
"I'm only 26, I am young," I responds after another yawn. "Now let me sleep!"
"Sorry. Sleep." He leans in and kisses to the top of my head. I nod, lay my head down on the pillow, and stare at him. He concentrates on the computer screen and his fingers fly across the keyboard. A small 'V' has formed between his eyebrows and his full lips are in a tight line; he doesn't look happy. I feel bad for the person on the receiving end of his anger. My eyes flutter shut after a few minutes and I fall asleep to the sound of Christian typing.
I feel something moving back and forth across my cheek, keeping my eyes closed I swat it away with the hand I had resting under the pillow. I hear soft laughter, my eyes flutter open and they're met with bright gray eyes and a wide grin.
I groan and close my eyes again. I hear the same soft laughter and a hand moves up and down my left leg. I try to swat it away but it doesn't stop. "Let me sleep," I whine.
"Come on, Sleeping Beauty, its 4 o'clock," he says.
I move my hand off my leg and bring it to his face, slowly, making sure he sees that I'm going to touch him. I move my hand around his face and I feel his smile against my palm.
"What are you doing," he says after he grabs my hand, pulls it away from his face and kisses it.
"I'm looking for the snooze button," I say lazily.
Christian lets out a loud, booming laugh. His melodic voice bounces around my room and a small smile tugs at my lips.
"Come on, we still need to go to Toys-R-Us." He pinches my thigh.
"Ow!" I scream out, kick him, and turn around so that my back is facing him.
He snakes his arms around me and pulls me against his chest. His fingers start to move around my waist, tickling me. I try to get away from his but to no avail, he wraps one of his legs around both of mine, there is no way I can move.
"Christian, stop!" I scream out, hysterically laughing.
"Beg!" he laughs.
"Never!" I cry.
"Suit yourself." He keeps tickling me. I laugh so hard that tears start to fall.
"Alright, alright, you win! Please, Christian!" I yell in defeat.
"Is that what you call begging? Come on, baby, you can do better than that," he says and tickles me harder.
He called me baby! I think to myself.
"Okay, please, please, please, with a cherry on top. I'm awake. Stop!"
Finally he stops his assault and pulls away. I turn and lay on my back trying to catch my breath. Christian uses his thumb to wipe away the tears that escaped. I turn to face his and my heart skips a beat. I wonder if I will ever get used to him. I really hope not.
He's laying down on his side, facing me, his head is resting on his hand. The hand that was on my face move and rests lazily across my stomach. He looks down at me, his eyes alight with humor and a boyish grin plastered on his face. "Did you have a good nap?" he asks softly
"It was great, until you decide to wake me up." I pout.
He smiles at me and shakes his head. "You slept for four hours. We have things to do." He suddenly sits up and gets out of bed. He turns, bends down and picks me up.
"Hey, what are you doing? Put me down," I protest. Much to my surprise he sets me down by the foot of the bed. I stare at him shocked. "Wow, you actually listened."
He looks at me, a mischievous gleam appears in his eyes and his eyes move to the bathroom door then back to me. He raises an eyebrow. Oh no!
I turn and make a run for it, but before I can even get to the bedroom door I feel his arms wrap around my waist. "No, Christian, please," I beg as he turns me around and throws me over his shoulder. Oh crap, my shirt has ridden up, I reach around and try to pull the t-shirt down to hide my underwear, why did I wear a thong?
"Don't complain; a shower is the best way to wake up," Christian says and slaps my ass.
"Ow! What the hell!" I scream. Okay, two can play this game, I let go of my t-shirt and I move both my hands as far away from him as I can then bring the down as hard as I can muster and slap his butt. Ha!
"Oh, you shouldn't have down that," he says as we enter the bathroom. He walks straight to the walk in shower and turns it on. He grabs my waist with both his hands, lifts, me off him and sets me down in the middle of the shower.
I jump and yelp when the freezing cold water hits my skin, the t-shirt I'm wearing quickly becomes wet and clings to my skin. Christian is standing near the open shower door laughing hysterically; he is bend down, both his hands wrapped around his midsection. I take advantage of his distraction and grab the shower head, I've never been so happy to have a detachable shower head. I aim the it at him and he jumps back, surprised.
I don't let up, I take a few steps towards him, turn the shower on full blast and I turn the temperature down. Christian holds up his arms, trying to protect himself from the onslaught of water. He moves one of his arms and tries to reach for the shower head but I back away just in time. Christian steps forward and I back away again. Shit! Now I'm in the shower and I have nowhere to go; by the smile on his face I can tell that his was his idea all along.
He snatches the shower head out of my grasp and aims it at me. "Not so fun now, is it, Anastasia," he says triumphantly. I turn around, trying to hide my face, when I see the body wash. I brilliant idea pops into my head and I grab the body wash. I close my eyes and turn around. I open the body wash and squeeze, the water stops for a few seconds and I know I caught him. I keep squeezing until the bottle is empty and then throw it at Christian. I open my eyes and immediately start laughing at the sight in front of me.
Christian is standing in the middle of my bathroom, soaked, his clothes and his face are covered in pink body wash, and the shower head is pointed down as he tries to get keep the body wash from going into his eyes. "I'll take that!" I say as I reach for the shower head. I turn off the water and let it drop to the floor.
I look up at Christian and see him wiping the body wash from his forehead, once he's satisfied he looks down at me and we immediately start laughing.
"I think I won that," I tell him once our laughter dies down.
"It was a draw. I never lose," he says and takes a step towards me, before he can move the other foot he slips. I reach my hand out to help him, he grabs it and pulls me down with him.
Before I know it, I find myself laying on top of him, my arms on either side of him and my head is mere inches from his. I look up at him just in time to see him wince.
"I probably sprained my ankle again," he jokes, rubbing his head.
I immediately push away from him and sit on the floor. "Does it hurt? Don't get up!" I snap when he tries to sit up.
"Did you bump your head?" I ask, the doctor in me coming out.
"I'm fine! I didn't hit it that hard, I just fell on my ass," he says trying to reassure me.
I look at him skeptically. "Just lay down and I'll get my bag and check you over."
"Don't be ridiculous." He sits up anyways. "See, I'm completely fine," he says and moves his head all around, then his ankle.
"You are such a man." I sigh and look around my bathroom, it's a mess! "My bathroom!"
Christian looks around and a guilty look crosses his face. "I'm sorry. Don't worry, I'll hire someone to clean it. It will be spotless by the time we come back," he reassures me.
"Don't worry about it. I can't remember the last time I had so much fun," I say truthfully.
"Me too," he says and wraps his arm around my shoulder, his arm slick with body wash. He crosses his legs on the floor and pulls me onto his lap, I rest my head in the crook of his neck. I take a deep breath; he smells so good- of freshly washed linen, cucumber body wash, and some musky, manly scent.
An idea pops into my head and I jump out of his lap. He looks up at me, a confused look on his lovely face. "Where are you going?"
"You'll see," I say as I run into my bedroom. I grab my phone off the bed and go back to Christian. I sit down next to him and he pulls me on his lap again. "We need a picture of this," I explain.
"Give me," he says and reaches for my phone. He pulls me closer to him, and snaps a few pictures.
"Let me see," I request.
"Hold on."
"What are you doing?" I ask, curious.
"I just accepted myself on Instagram," he says as he hands me back the phone.
"I was going to accept you," I say as I stand up. I hand Christian a towel and grab one for myself.
"I wasn't going to take that chance," he says.
I shake my head and walk back into my bedroom. I peel off my wet T-shirt and wrap the towel around myself. Christian comes out of the bathroom with in a t-shirt and a towel around his hips, carrying his wet clothing.
"I'm going to need another change of clothes," he says. He pulls off his t-shirt and throws it down somewhere.
Could this man get any better looking? I could watch him walk around shirtless all day. He is the definition of washboard abs. He runs a towel through the coppery dusting of chest hair at the top of his chest, soaking up all the leftover drops of water. My eyes trail down his chest to his abs to his oh-so-happy trail.
"Where do you want these?" he says. My eyes snap back to his face, then to the clothes in his hand.
"Just throw them into the bathroom," I say distracted.
"Okay," he says, humor clear in his voice. An arrogant smirk is appears on his face, he's caught me, again. Oh well…
He turns around and I get a glimpse of his beautify, muscular back. I imagine my fingernails running down his back as he thrusts into me…
Where the fuck did that come from? The rational part of my brain screams out. I shake my head, snapping out of my erotic daydream. I stare at his retreating figure when I suddenly notice little, round scars dotting his back. Before I can get a closer look he walks into the bathroom. I wonder what they are. Probably chicken pox scars.
While he's in the bathroom I try to undo my bra, but to no avail, the fabric is so wet that I can't undo it with one hand, and I can't let go of the towel. I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of walking in on me naked.
"Having some trouble?" I hear Christian's smug voice coming from behind me.
I roll my eyes. "Can you undo it? It's stuck."
He walks up behind me, so close that I can feel the heat from his body. He runs a hand up my back, from where the towel begins to my bra. Using one hand he quickly snaps it open, he leans down and runs his nose up my neck. My heartbeat accelerates and my breathing becomes shallow. He grabs my hands in each one of his and sets them down on the bed, I now know to keep them still. He runs his hands up my arms until they reach my shoulders, then they simultaneously push the straps off my shoulders and they fall down my arms.
He kisses my neck then moves away, putting some much-needed distance between us. I push the bra off and it falls onto the bed. I wrap the towel around myself and turn around. "Thank you," I say and smile up at him. He puts his hands around my waist and lifts me up and sets me down on the bed.
"Sit," he commands.
"Yes, Sir!" I respond. I hear his sharp intake of breath and I see his eyes widen; satisfaction courses through me, it's good to know that I have an effect on him. I watch as he walks to the nightstand near my bed and grabs his Blackberry. He turns back to face me and leans against the nightstand, and looks down at his phone.
I take the opportunity to shamelessly stare at his chest. A small gasp escapes my lips when I notice small, round scars dotted around his chest, just like his back. From this distance I see that they are far too big to be Chicken Pox scars. A lump starts to form in my throat; they're cigarette burns! I treated a teenager in New York who burned himself with cigarettes because he was depressed. But these are different, older; they've had time to heal and I'm sure that Grace and Carrick didn't burn their son. So this must have happened before he was adopted, this is why he had that knowing look in his eyes when I brought up Anthony! Oh my God! This is why he freaked out when I almost touched him.
The realization makes me dizzy, thankfully I'm already sitting down. I just stare ahead as the information floods my brain. Who would do that to a child?
I snap out of my epiphany when I hear Christian's voice. "Taylor, I need you to bring me a change of clothing," Christian says then hangs up. I look at him and notice that he's staring at me intently, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He probably noticed my reaction to his scars. I take a deep breath and force a smile.
He walks towards me slowly and stops when he's about a foot away from me. I reach my hand out to him and he tenses a little, something I've never noticed before. I keep my hand outstretched, he eventually moves closer and I put my hand on his cheek. He grasps my wrist and leans into my touch. I look into his eyes and for a moment he looks scared. Oh baby, who hurt you?
"Why don't you like to be touched?" I ask timidly. I don't want to say anything that will set him off.
"Because I'm fifty shades of fucked up, Anastasia," he says. I blink up at him, his honesty is disarming.
"The scars aren't chicken pox are they?" I ask softly and look into his deep, burning gray eyes.
His face stays impassive and calm, but his eyes tell a different story. Hurt and anger flicker through them. "No," he says softly. "I had a difficult start to life, and it's not something I would like to dive into." He turns and kisses my palm then moves back. "I'll let you get dressed." He turns and walks out of my room, closing the door behind him.
I sit there reeling from the 'tough introduction to life' comment. I am desperate to know more but he won't tell me and I don't want to push it. He can be so fun and easy-going then turn around and be-well fifty shades of fucked up. He summed it up well.
Our poor Fifty, my subconscious sighs as I get off the bed.
Our? He's not ours! I think to myself. I stop mid stride; I'm talking to myself! This is not good. I grab my phone and call Dr. Stevens office, I have to squeeze in a session before this weekend.
"Dr. Stevens office, Margie speaking," Margie's kind voice comes through the speaker.
"Hi, Margie. It's Ana Steele."
"Dr. Steele-Ana, how are you, dear?" she asks.
"I'm good. I was just wondering if you could fit me in this week. I'm free Thursday, but I can probably sneak away for an hour or two any day this week," I tell her.
"Hold on one second, dear," she tells me and puts me on hold.
I set the phone on top of my dresser and look through my underwear drawer and pull out a charcoal lace bra and panties set from Coco de Mer. The bra is a demi cup and it emphasizes my C cup breasts and the panties are blush satin cheekster's with charcoal lace over them. I set the underwear on the bed and walk to my closet to pick out an outfit. I decide on an orange, blue, and tan pencil skirt with a cool stripe pattern and a loose Chambéry shirt, for the shoes I decide on blush and gold flats. I place everything on the bed just in time for Margie to speak.
"How does tomorrow at 7pm work for you? You'll be the last patient of the day so you can stay as long as you would like."
I think over my schedule, I have a surgery in the morning and rounds start at 4 pm so I should be done by 7 pm. "That's perfect. Thank you!" I say gratefully.
"No problem. I will see you tomorrow!" she says and hands up.
I unwrap the towel from around my body and wrap it around my messy, dirty hair. I quickly put my clothes on and walk out of my room and look for Christian. I find him sitting on one of the bar stools by the island, still in just a towel, hunched over a bowl of cereal. The Reese's cereal box and a carton of milk are on either side of him. He turns when he hears me coming, his mouth full of cereal.
"Good?" I ask when I get to him.
"Amazing," he says after swallowing the mouthful of cereal. "It's my second bowl," he confesses.
"You are going to get fat," I laugh as he takes another spoonful.
He glares at me as he swallows the cereal. "Have some." He holds a spoonful of cereal, I open my mouth and he put the spoon in, then he takes a spoonful for himself.
I start chewing then realize that the cereal is soggy. Gross! I quickly swallow it and suppress a gag, then run to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. "Ew! The cereal is soggy!" I complain.
"That's how I like it." He shrugs.
"How the hell likes soggy cereal?" I yell after I down the whole bottle of water. Before Christian has a chance to respond two quick knocks to the door interrupt us.
"That's Taylor," Christian says.
"I'll get it, just finish eating that crap." I turn and walk to the door. When I open it I'm faced with well over 6ft of muscle. For the first time I get a good look at the elusive Taylor. He's actually quite handsome, deep, blue eyes framed by blond eyebrows and his sandy blond hair is cut into a buzz cut. For some reason he reminds me of my father and I immediately like him.
"Hello, Taylor, please come in," I tell him cheerfully.
He gives me a brief smile, which looks very strange on his stern face, and walks in. "Dr. Steele, how are you?" he asks politely
"Please, call me Ana. And I'm wonderful. How about you?" I ask I lead him into the kitchen.
"I'm good, thank you for asking," he says.
"Thank you, Taylor," Christian says as Taylor hands him the bag of clothing.
"Sir." He nods.
Christian takes the bag and walks into my bedroom, both Taylor and I watch his retreating figure. I turn to Taylor. "Would you like anything to drink? Juice? Coffee? Water? I have some cookies if you'd like. Or maybe a bowl of cereal?"
"No thank you, Dr-Ana, I'm good," he politely declines.
"You have to try my red velvet cookies, they are the best. I will not take no for an answer. Now sit down," I say.
He gives me a small smile, which fades away as quickly as it came then sits down on one of the bar stools. I set a few cookies and pour him a glass of milk. "Thank you," he says.
"No problem." I turn and rinse off the dishes that Christian ate in.
"These are amazing," Taylor says appreciatively and hands me the empty plate and glass.
"Thank you! I will wrap some up for you to take when you leave," I tell him.
"That would be fantastic."
"What would be fantastic?" Christian asks when he gets into the kitchen.
"I'm going to wrap some cookies up for Taylor to take home." I turn to face Christian. My jaw almost drops when I see him. He's standing by the dinning room wearing blue, faded, ripped jeans with a gray graphic t-shirt and a brown sports coat on top, the sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing off his muscular forearms. The look is completed by dark blue Convers and his trademark messy copper hair.
He glares at Taylor. "What time does the cleaning service get here?" he asks.
"They should be here in about 10 minutes," Taylor responds.
Christian turns to me. "Do you mind if Taylor stays here to let them in and when they are cleaning?" he asks.
"No problem. When you go just close the door it locks automatically. Please make yourself at home, the remote is on the table, I have ESPN; there are snacks in the cupboard to the right of the fridge and soda in the fridge, help yourself," I tell Taylor, pointing out where everything is.
I quickly grab a paper plate and pile cookies onto it then wrap it with tin foil. I set it down on the counter right in front of Taylor.
"Great, ready to go?" Christian asks impatiently.
I point up to my head. "Does this look like I'm ready?"
"Hurry!" he snaps.
"Okay! Don't get you panties in a twist." I run to the guest bathroom and quickly throw my hair into a messy side ponytail and kick on my shoes. I run to my closet and grab my big Louis Vuitton tote bag and throw everything I need into it. I run out into the kitchen. "Okay, all set! Bye, Taylor! Don't forget your cookies!" I yell as Christian pushes me out the door.
"Wait I need my car keys," I say when we are about halfway to the elevator.
"I have them," he says and grabs my hand.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
He's fifty shades of mood swings, he PMS's worst than you do, my subconscious snares.
"You were flirting with Taylor!" he yells and glares at me.
I laugh at the ridiculousness of his accusation. "Don't be obtuse, I was being nice."
"You weren't flirting?" he asks.
"No! Why would I flirt with Taylor? He reminds me of my father," I reassure him.
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh." I shake my head as the elevator doors open. Christian leads me inside, when I turn around the face the doors I catch a glimpse at our reflection.
"We match," I tell Christian, pointing at our reflection.
"Huh, we do," he says then looks back at his Blackberry. Where the hell did it come from? He wasn't holding it a second ago.
I snatch the Blackberry out of his hand, our hands brush against each other slightl. It causes a rush of electricity to shoot up my arm and down to my stomach. I shake my head and press the camera icon.
"What are you doing?" he asks exasperated.
"It's very rude to email while you're with someone," I explain. I take a few pictures of myself using the mirror. "Either get into the picture or get out. You're just in the background looking grumpy."
I hear him sigh, but he wraps his arm around me and I snap a few pictures. "Can I have my phone back now?" he asks.
"Hold on." I turn to the front camera and snap a few selfies then hand him back his phone, just as the elevator stops.
He puts his phone in his pocket. "You are so challenging," he says with a small smile on his lips. He takes my hand and leads me out into the garage.
"You can drive if you want," I tell him.
"I was planning on it," he says as he opens the passenger side door. I walk to the door and stand on my toes, I gently press my lips to his then get in the car. He closes the door behind me and walks around the car with easy grace. He folds his long frame into the car and smoothly pulls out of the garage.
Once we are on the street he reaches his hand over and intertwines his fingers with mine. We spend the car ride to Toys-R-Us fighting over what music to listen to and talking about the concerts we've gone to. The light, fun conversation flows easily; by the time we get to the store we are both laughing about a story he's telling about a Shania Twain concert he went to.
"And that's why I no longer like country," he finishes as he opens my door.
"You can't judge a whole genre based solely on one concert," I say defensively.
"Were you not listening? He peed on my shoe then spit his tooth into my beer. You don't mess with a man's' beer." He looks at me in utter disbelief.
"I get it, but still; I think you need to give country another try." I shrug as we walk into Toys-R-Us.
"So what do you need exactly?" Christian asks.
"I don't know; I want to get Anthony a few toys. All the other kids in the children's ward have parents that bring them gifts, I don't want him to feel left out. Let's go to the boy's section and we'll see what they have," I explain.
Christian grabs a cart and we go to the boys section. Once we get there I see Christian's face light up like a Christmas tree, his eyes widen when he takes in the aisles full of remote-controlled cars and helicopters. Boys never outgrow their toys, my mother's voice rings in my ear.
"Earth to Christian," I say snapping him out of it.
"Maybe he will like a helicopter," Christian suggests.
"He's 6, these all say 8 and up," I tell him.
He frowns and his eyebrows knit together in concentration. "How about matchbox cars? I had some at his age and they were my favorite toy."
"Okay." I grab a box with a huge truck inside, the truck is full of little cars, ramps and road signs.
I see some Transformer toys, my cousin loves them so I grab Anthony a few. I turn to put the toys in the cart and see that Christian is missing. I decide to just stay in this aisle and wait for him to come back. While I wait I pick up a remote-controlled car; Anthony seems like brilliant little boy, I'm sure he'll have no trouble playing with it. I grab it and walk back to the cart, just as I put the car in I see Christian walking towards me with a cape around his neck holding a handful of boxes.
"Before you say anything, these are Legos, and every little boy needs Legos, and a cape," he explains.
I raise both my hands up in defeat. "I think we are good," I say as I look into the cart.
"Yeah, this is good." Christian agrees.
Christian pushes the cart to the checkout counter and I pull my card out of my wallet, I don't want a repeat of this morning.
"Good evening folks," the elderly cashier greets us.
"Hello," Christian and I say simultaneously.
The woman laughs. "Lots of presents for your kiddies, I see. How many do you have?"
Her question catches both Christian and I off guard. "Oh no, we don't have kids. I mean we aren't together that's why we don't have kids," I babble.
"I'm sorry, dearie," she says and gives me an apologetic smile.
I hand her my card. "It's okay," I respond. I look around the store, avoiding eye contact with Christia. I know that if I look at him I'll break out into a fit of laughter.
She hands me back my card. "Have a good night."
"Thank you," Christian says.
"Do I look like I've had multiple children?" I say, mostly to myself as we walk out the door. I hear Christian laugh beside me.
I glare at him. "She wasn't calling you fat or anything. She just saw a lot of toys, of varying age groups and assumed we had a lot of kids." He shrugs.
"Like I would have kids with you," I say in mock disgust.
"You wound me! Here I though we would have two kids, a dog and live in suburban Seattle." He slumps his shoulders in defeat.
"I'm not a big fan of dogs," I says.
"Neither am I," he admits.
"Then why would we have a dog?"
"It sounded good." He shrugs then laughs. He unlocks the car and together we quickly put all the toys away and he opens my door again.
As I sit down I can't help but think about how good it actually does sound. The perfect family.
What are you doing?! Don't you remember happened last time you thought like that? He was joking! He's fifty shades of fucked up and you're not much better! Stop this stupidity, the rational part of my brain screams at me venomously.
Christian gets into the car and smiles at me. I fake a smile, where can this possibly go? What am I doing to myself? He's repeatedly told me that he doesn't 'do the girlfriend thing'. He has some deep, dark secret that he's certain will send me running for the hills; and a past that includes cigarette burns on his chest and back. And here I am dreaming about a white picket fence and kids.
I think back to the quote that he sent with the books and a lump forms in my throat, what if he ends up being like Maxwell? I promised myself a long time ago that I will never go back to being That girl and I won't!
Christian grasps my hand and runs his thumb across my knuckles, almost reassuringly. I turn to face him and see him looking at me with a concerned expression on his face. I bring his hand up to my lips, kiss it and give him a small reassuring smile. He smiles back but it doesn't reach his eyes; concern and confusion linger in his hypnotic gray eyes.
I turn and face the windshield, suddenly nervous. Am I prepared to let him into my life and take the chance of getting my heartbroken again, or worst?
Christian gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. I look at him and in that moment I decide that for him I can. I will give him the benefit of the doubt, no matter what his secret is, because for some reason he makes me feel alive, cherished, safe, and he brings out a side of me I thought died That Night…
So how was it? Hopefully you all enjoyed this chapter. It is defiantly lighter than the others. Let me know what you all think, I love reading your comments. Until next time, ladies (and gentlemen, if there are any) please review, fav, follow, and check out the Pinterest page, link in the Bio. I should be updating very soon!