CHAPTER 19
ANASTASIA POV
How funny sex is, I find myself thinking as I comb out my hair carefully with my brush in the bathroom mirror. What happened between Christian and I earlier on- not only once but 2 times- it was above and beyond all expectations. I wonder if anyone can tell I've done it or if I look somehow noticeably different on the outside. I meet my gaze in the mirror as I breathe in deeply, trying hard to stop myself from grinning foolishly. I can't see any noticeable difference though; I still look completely the same. Well, I feel I do.
It's just... sort of different, the way I feel on the inside. Well, how my body feels. It feels different. Looser, more relaxed somehow. Something I haven't really felt before.
I can't help that little anxious tight ball of uneasiness I feel in my stomach at the thought of heading home tomorrow. Kate comes back from her Mom's tomorrow, and I have to wonder if everything will suddenly be different now. Will I feel weird every time I interact with Kate? Will things be too awkward between me and her father now when ever we're around each other?
Shoving my brush back into my bag, I yank down on my pajama tank top before clicking off the light and heading out of the bathroom. I head towards Kate's empty bedroom, setting my bag down on the floor. I bite down on my bottom lip as I glance towards her bed. I really don't know what to do right now.
Christian's in his bedroom obviously. After what happened between us, do I sleep in Kate's room? Or do I assume it's OK to sleep in the bed with him in his room? It's all sort of confusing and having never been in a situation like this before obviously, I'm not totally sure what to do. Will he want me to sleep in the bed with him? Or does he want to be completely alone right now? I sort of wouldn't mind sleeping in the bed next to him in his room like I had last night even before things changed between us and we were together sexually but I don't know how he'll feel about it.
This was probably something casual in his eyes anyway, us getting together. Would he feel I'm forcing him into something if I did head into his room?
Yanking down the bottom of my tank top again and deciding to take my chances, I leave my bag of belongings where they are, instead turning out the hallway towards his room. His door is halfway open and I can see the light is still on. Would he prefer to be alone right now?
I lift up with my hand, pushing it open wider with my fingers quietly. I find him almost at once, sitting on the left side of his bed, on top of the sheets with a lamp on. He looks very busy reading something; Numerous papers, and he doesn't look up even as I stand in the doorway to his room. He's shirtless with just knee-length light blue boxers on, with his long legs outstretched, his bare feet crossed.
Just simply by looking at him, images flash wildly by in my mind of earlier, making my skin feel warm and overheated. The way he touched me, how he somehow knew to take the time to make me feel so much better about one of my main insecurities when it comes to my body- my breasts. How it felt, sort of strangely warm and tight, him inside me. How I'd somehow felt this strange confidence to reach down between us and stroke him through his jeans with my fingers. Like I said, it was above and beyond any expectations. I just want to make sure I don't make him feel too uncomfortable by seeming as if I'm expecting way more from this.
Suddenly and without warning, he lifts his gaze from the paper he was reading, his gray eyes immediately finding me from where I stand, quietly up against the open doorway, watching him. He licks his lips and I think I see something similar to soft amusement glistening in his eyes as he droops the paper down a little.
"Are you OK, Anastasia?" he asks, and now amazingly even his voice makes me feel all the more funny. Naturally I find most things about him spine-tingling, from his smile, to his laugh. But now it's intensified almost, in an embarrassing way.
"Um, yeah," I murmur, biting my lip again uncertainly. "I think so."
"You think so?" He arches his eyebrows at me, the tip of his tongue peeking out a little from his lips. He uses it to trace slowly along his bottom lip, then he says, "Is there something you need?"
"Actually, um, I was just wondering if you'd mind if I slept in here with you again like last night?"
"Oh. Of course I wouldn't mind." I try not to give off my relief when he reaches over to collect some of the loose papers he is holding quickly, gathering them up off the sheets. He shifts a little, like he's making more room even although there is plenty enough already. "I was actually hoping you would want to sleep in the bed with me anyway. I just... didn't want to make you feel pressured or as if you were obligated myself in case you did want to sleep alone in Katherine's room." He licks his lips again briefly as he sits up straighter against the headboard.
Shoving off the doorway while trying to not give any of my sheer relief away, I pad towards the free side of the bed slowly. I climb up on my knees over the mattress, sinking down on my side next to him, facing him while resting my chin on my hand. He starts reading again, concentrating on the numerous papers in front of him that he's holding. When I lean forward to catch a sneaky glimpse of them, to my relief he doesn't say anything or minds me peeking.
"What are you doing?" I ask quietly, unable to hide my curiosity. I can't make sense of what he is reading at all.
Christian sighs gently through his nose as he turns his head to look at me. "This is stuff for work," he admits, making a very humorous bored face. "Enthralling stuff."
I can't help the small giggle that escapes me. "Well, by the way you say it, it sure does sound very... interesting?" I look over all the things written on the paper again; The weird symbols, all the numbers. "And complicated. Just by looking at it myself, I have no idea what any of it even means."
"You wouldn't want to understand what any of it means," he whispers with another deep sigh. "It's just pointless financial shit. Pointless to you, anyway." As if to show how fed up he is by it all, he pushes all the sheets of paper off the bed carelessly onto the floor, his eyes lighting up as another short laugh escapes me at his behavior. Suddenly he's alert and focused on me now, his eyes scrutinizing the length of my face as I remain where I am, lying beside him. "I can think of plenty more things to do that could be way more enthralling than financial shit and paper work could ever be."
"Oh, yeah?" I tease. "Like what?"
He chuckles in that spine-tingling way of his, and then catching me off-guard, he reaches towards me with both hands. He finds each of my wrists, and tugs gently. "Come over here," he murmurs, and although confused, I stand up onto my knees and crawl over him, sitting astride him with my legs on either side of him.
"Now what?" I ask breathlessly, glancing down at him while he strokes my wrists with his thumbs. "What happens now?"
I think I somewhat already know the answer to that despite my inexperience. He smiles and gives out another low chuckle as he releases my wrists. Then drops his hands, using them to run back and forth over my knees and thighs, making me shiver. "You cold?" he asks softly, meeting my gaze questioningly. I realize he's misunderstood the reason for my shivers and he rubs his hands back and forth over my legs even harder, creating friction.
"No, I'm not cold at all in anyway whatsoever," I admit, moving my hands down tentatively. To my relief, Christian lets me slowly run my hands up and down his toned chest, around his flat nipples and the soft, small hairs there. "It's only just..." I drop his gaze, feeling shy all of a sudden, "when you do touch me, I find it makes me shiver. Not out of being cold though but... in a good way."
Getting warmed up and feeling bolder, I run my hands further down this time, enjoying how warm his skin feels, how thicker and rough somehow. Around his rib-cage, down towards the curly hairs trailing past his belly button. Then... lower, to where the band of his boxer briefs begin, hanging around his pelvis. I hear a ragged breath hitch in his throat as I watch his chest fall rapidly with undulations and then rise with exhalations.
"So you... did enjoy yourself?" he asks after a moment, and there's an odd change to his voice that I haven't heard from him before, I don't think. It's almost strained, too... hoarse. "I didn't hurt you when we... did what we did the 2nd time?"
"You really didn't," I assure him, and he brushes both hands up over my thighs again, clasping at my bare skin with his fingers. Uncontrollably, I can't help leaning back, closing my eyes tightly at the feeling of his hands stroking my skin and up and down my thighs. I just like him touching me too much. It just feels so incredibly good and sexy. "Thank you." The words blab out of my mouth senselessly before I even know what I'm saying, my eyes still clenched closed.
I hear him give off a low throaty humming noise, like he's amused. "No, Anastasia, thank you."
"Thank me?" Him saying that, it confuses me. I reopen my eyes slowly, peering down at him while resuming my ministrations to his chest, feeling his chest lift and fall beneath my hands.
"Yes, thank you..." He meets my gaze, his face softening dramatically. It makes my stomach clench. I really like it when he looks at me that way. "For... all of this." As I brush my right hand down over his belly button, he makes a deep noise at the back of his throat, his lips parting. How can a man be capable of making such sexy sounds? "For... making me feel this way. I haven't..." He pauses as I use my index finger, stroking down the length of bristly hair trailing down his belly button to his pelvis, to the waistband of his brief. "I haven't felt this way in an extremely long time. I'm sure you've... noticed that already."
He inhales in deeply, eyes on nothing else but mine. Something takes over in his eyes, a gleam I noticed he got 2 times earlier when we did what we did together. I think it's arousal? His turned on look? That look, it makes me feel so exhilarated, so... gushy warm. That I can have that power, that what I am doing is effecting him in such a way... it's mind-blowingly great.
"You make me feel... desirable," he goes on, swallowing thickly."Like there's still... hope for a man like me." The muscles in his throat knot together as I notice his breathing get shallower and shallower. My own breathing begins to match his when he uses his hands again, gripping around my thighs and ankles, trailing up and down them with his strong masculine hands. "So yes, thank you."
"But you are desirable?"
I notice his face close off and cloud over with something resembling disbelief for the briefest second as he shakes his head, as if he's shrugging my comment off. How can he not realize how truly desirable he is?
"And just so you know, no... strings," he adds under his breath.
My hands pause from tracing around his rib cage automatically as I strive to digest his words in. No strings? I can't say I'm entirely sure what he means by that. But then he elaborates a moment later.
"Like you said on The Grace, this was a... a gift to you, an opportunity. Something I... I'm flattered and honored that you chose me to be the 1 to give you it. I'm not... naive." What? "I don't expect more than what you want this to be and I... I want you to know that. No strings, no... no pressure."
Suddenly this conversation disturbs me. I try to change it onto something else instead, "Tell me something about yourself."
His breathing is more harsh, uneven somehow, as I continue tracing a pattern into his warm skin gently. "Like what?" He murmurs slowly, his voice sounding relaxed.
"Hmm, I don't know. Something personal maybe? Tell me about your parents?"
"Well, there's Grace as you know. And my father Carrick." He stops thoughtfully, licking his lips. "I think they are both the most incredible human beings on the planet. They've just reached their 32nd wedding anniversary and are still as mad for each other as ever."
"Sounds lovely. Do you have any siblings?"
"I do. There's Elliot and Mia, Katherine's aunt and uncle."
"Are you the oldest or youngest?"
"Youngest actually." Closing his eyes suddenly, Christian curses unexpectedly, "Jesus, Fuck!" and it startles me.
Cautiously, I'm about to move both hands off his chest, but then he quickly glances up at me gently as he reopens his eyes, a look of something needful there, something different.
"Sorry, I... I didn't mean to raise my voice just then, Ana, but... Jesus."
He looks so strained and desperate in his facial expression, hos breathing deep.
"What are you trying to do to me? Are you trying to cause me agony?" he breathes unevenly in seeming wonder, and then I finally understand when he does what he does next. He finds one of my hands, grasps it gently in his, and places it right there, in the center of his boxer briefs. Immediately I feel him through the fabric, erect and standing upright, hard yet soft warm flesh. "Feel what you do to me all over again?" he murmurs, and guiding me, he gets me to stroke my hand up and down over the mound through his cotton briefs. "Can you feel what you've awakened out of me, something that... that's been dormant for so long?"
Licking my lips to moisten them, I drop my eyes as he releases my hand, allowing me to move it all by myself. His hips buck gently as I resume touching Christian through his boxers, amazed and excited by what's going on. I cannot believe how quick I can seem to turn him on. It's so... arousing and just knowing that, it makes me feel so aroused in turn. I can feel a hot tingling sensation building around my most intimate private area.
I watch him as I make a pattern of rubbing him with my hand, enjoying the way his expression changes. His lips are parted, mouth making an O, his eyes squinted like it's almost too much, it's too deliciously painful for him to endure.
"You have no idea..." he pants with sharp breaths, "How good that feels, how... great with your hand like that."
Snaking an arm around my waist, he manages to pull me down and our mouths touch. He breathes shakily against my lips as I continue touching him through his boxers and once he's near completion, he lets me know.
"Shit, sweetheart, Ana," he inhales into my skin, his voice deep and raspy, "I'm going to come!" And then he shudders all against me, our noses touching while his urgent breaths fan across my skin, his boxers immersed with a dampness and heat seconds later.
Afterwards, we remain like that for a while, me resting down on Christian, his nose against my forehead as he regains and catches his breath. He pants like he's just been out on one of his morning jogs, his skin sweaty.
"Jesus," he repeats again after a while, and as he leans back, both hands cupping my face in them, he looks me over. I don't know what he sees visible on my face but there must be something, because he laughs breathlessly against me.
"What?" I ask curiously, both a little self-conscious yet amused myself.
"You should see your face right now," he murmurs, and he laughs again. Using his thumbs, gently, tenderly like I'm something extra fragile that deserves to be touched with such startling delicacy, he runs his thumbs down my cheekbones. "You look like the cat that's ate the canary."
Making sense of his words, I can't help grinning widely. "Well, it's true and I sort of am," I point out teasingly, not bothering to hide it. "I am very proud of myself right now considering I... I haven't even done that before."
"Well, rightly so."He nods once and reaches down, tracing his thumb over my bottom lip this time. A spine-tingling grin comes over his mouth. "You should be proud."
"And I am."
...
When I wake to gentle light spilling into the room, I feel sort of bereft when I turn and discover that I am alone in bed, with Christian no longer sleeping in it beside me. Sitting up slowly, it occurs to me what day it is. Today is Sunday and I will have to go home, especially seeing as Kate returns from her Mom's house today and, obviously, I can't still be here otherwise it will be too suspicious.
The thought of seeing Kate tomorrow, of seeing her at school while having done this, in sleeping with her dad... It makes me feel sort of ill. I feel ill because I know I am betraying her and yet, at the same time, I don't think I have ever felt truly this happy before.
I can't bring myself to regret what's happened, being intimate with Kate's dad. I just can't. I just hope he won't regret it either.
Climbing out of the sheets, I make the bed, trying to make it as neat as hopefully it always looks. Then I head into Kate's empty room, get changed out of my pajamas into fresh clothes, and make sure I haven't left any telling evidence in her room as well, anything that will give me away. Once content, I carry my bag with me downstairs, wondering where Christian is. I know he goes jogging in the mornings but having checked the time on the clock in Kate's bedroom, it's already 11.30 and I've slept in.
On the last step, I turn towards the kitchen... and suddenly, there he is. His back is facing me and he's already dressed in jeans and a business shirt. I hear odd hissing noises, as well as toast popping loudly in the toaster. Is he cooking breakfast?
The smell that greets me as I plop my bag on the floor and head further in confirms all I need to know.
"Mmm," I murmur quietly, making my presence known. "Something smells incredibly good."
For a second, my stomach clenches in apprehension to discover what will be on his face. Will he try to act aloof again and as though nothing passed between us? Will he act somewhat cold? But to my relief, as he turns to look at me from where I stand behind him while grabbing two pieces of bread out of the toaster, he's smiling. He seems refreshed and in good spirits. It makes me feel in good spirits in return.
"Good morning, Anastasia," he breathes, dropping the pieces of toast on 2 plates. Then I see him throw a look at the time on the illuminated numbers of his stove. "You slept in? It's already 20 to 12."
"I know. I must have been tired." And worn-out from all the love making experiences you gave me, I think to myself inside my head, blushing. "Um, you need some help?" I ask, wringing my hands.
"Sure. You could always butter the toast?"
"Of course." I get into doing that, helping butter the toast while surreptitiously watching him work at the stove. He easily flips over 4 eggs, then energetically sprinkles dried oregano over them. It smells delicious.
"Did you sleep OK?" he asks me, angling his body sideways to look at me. The shirt he is wearing cuts off above the forearms, and each time he scrapes at the eggs frying in the pan, his muscles elongate gloriously.
"I slept incredibly well. Did you?"
"I did. In fact, it was probably 1 of the better nights I've had in years." He pauses in a seemingly deliberate way, looking overly thoughtful. "I can't imagine why that was. Can you?"
"Nope, I can't even imagine why either," I play along, but I feel that pesky flush spreading across my cheeks as he grins at me. "Must have been due to all that energy being burned." I can't end up being straight-faced for too long so I end up failing in the attempt, caving in to smile to myself at what we both are hinting at between the lines together.
I'm still smiling even when I make us both a cup of tea each, placing it on the breakfast counter near our place mats. The eggs done, Christian slides them onto our pieces of toast and then he comes to sit next to me on the stool.
"Thank you," I murmur after swallowing a mouthful of toast and egg. "I can't remember the last time someone actually made me breakfast."
"You're very welcome, Anastasia." I guess we both are as famished as each other, because things end up quiet as we eat our breakfast. The only thing that really breaks the silence is the forks and knives scraping on the plates.
"What time does Kate usually arrive home from her Mom's?" I ask once I'm finished, setting my fork and knife down gently on my plate. Christian has already finished his, his plate pushed aside as he nurses his cup of tea in both hands.
"In the afternoon, usually. Around roughly 4.30 or 5, Anastasia." He takes a slow sip of his tea, swallowing it. "I'll have to drop you off before then."
"Of course," I whisper in agreement, reaching for my own cup. I blow into the cup, hoping to cool it down as I wonder what to say next. Somehow, it feels awkward, speaking of this.
"What will you tell your mother?" he asks me.
"Same thing I always basically do. I'll just tell her that I stayed over at Kate's for the weekend like always."
...
Things get even more awkward on the drive home to my mother's, something I never believed could be possible. There's mainly silence while we listen to his CD, and just general conversations that mean nothing. Then it comes on and I feel my body tense.
The same song he played to me on The Grace, the same song he pulled me into his arms and swayed me to before we had sex the 1st time. Under My Skin. Even although I turn up the stereo to listen to the lyrics and drown out my thoughts, it doesn't seem strong enough to completely eradicate them. I just get flashbacks, memories of what we did together, what we experienced.
His body, how it felt to be up against him as he swayed me to this exact song. Stroking me with his strong hands at my navel through the damp towel... How he made me feel less self-conscious about my body, and how good it felt, him inside me, hard and rigid. His moans, how our skin felt brushing together. I have to shut my eyes and press my lips together tightly as my body hums at the recollection, and various muscles clench deep below my body in a not so unpleasant way.
He hasn't mentioned anything, and neither have I. I'm not sure whether to, of course. Probably, to him, it was a 1-off thing, something to never happen again. Is it silly of me and naive that I wish for more? So, so much more? Probably.
It is just too complicated and, in some ways, I hate feeling this way right now. Now I start to wonder if I was being incredibly selfish, asking him for this. Making him do this to me, giving me the experience. I know he enjoyed it but... at what cost? I know Kate would be really uncomfortable and even possibly betrayed that her father and I slept together. I just like him so, so much. Having done what we did together, it only just intensified those feelings. But obviously it is different for him.
I have a epiphany of his words last night. I couldn't make any sense of them, until now. How he said things like 'no pressure, no strings'. It was clearly just a 1-off thing for him, with a younger foolish girl, with no feelings involved whatsoever. Of course, nothing could come out of this, except for... heartache and anger on Kate's side of it, at the pair of us. And yet, a part of me cannot help wishing that there was more to this and that there could ever be more.
Forcing my eyes open with a deep breath, I allow myself to steal a quick glance into his direction. Christian's eyes are focused on nothing else but the road, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tight. Now, when I so much as even look at him, there's this feeling that hadn't been there before. This sort of sort ache, a tenderness. Maybe it's because we did something so personal, so intimate together? Does he feel it too? Or is it all just me being plain emotional and foolish?
Christian must have felt my eyes on him, because suddenly he turns his head to look at me, his gray eyes meeting mine. He gives me a small smile, 1 I find difficult to work out the meaning of, before he glances forward to the road again. What is he thinking? What does he even... feel right now? Or am I just reading too much into everything?
I feel a tight, aching pressure in my gut; words that I desperately feel I need to say before it gets too late. "I... I've really enjoyed this weekend," I finally say, speaking over Frank's crooning as the song ends at last.
He turns to meet my gaze again with another tight-lipped smile. "Yes, Anastasia, me too."
And there, that's it. More silence grows between us. I'm not sure what I am expecting though. Finally, as he pulls up across the street from my Mom's house, he turns to face me while shutting off the engine. Throwing off my belt, I realize how reluctant I am to leave him, to have to get out of the car and head inside to where my mother is.
"Are you sure you have everything from the house?" Christian asks, gesturing towards my bag on the floor with his chin. I reach down to grab hold of it with a nod.
"I'm sure." I stare at him a moment longer, wondering what to say. What can I say? Honestly, I wish I could say that I enjoyed what happened this weekend so much, that I hope it isn't the end. I wish I could tell him that I really, really like him and that- if we ever could- I would love for something more to happen out of this. But how can I say that? Would he even take me seriously- at my age?
"I suppose I may see you on the weekend if you sleep over again when Katherine's home this time," he says, something there in his voice.
Does he want to see me again? Or was it a 1-off thing? "Um, yeah. I guess so. Probably."
"Anastasia," he mutters, and it sounds like he's saying farewell.
Forcing a smile and ignoring the lump building in my throat, I whisper back, "Goodbye, Christian," then force myself out of the car. I force myself not to glance in his direction as I clamber up the steps towards the front door.
...
CHRISTIAN POINT OF VIEW
A few days go by and I hear nothing.
No secret text message. Absolutely nothing, which... all things considered, is probably a good thing.
Still, I find myself thinking about Anastasia far more often than I like, than what I am proud of. Lately, I can't seem to get her off my mind, replaying what happened earlier last weekend. I'll catch myself at work, trying to go over some papers or trying to read through my schedule, and then randomly, I'll think of her. I'll remember her.
How soft her lips were as we kissed. How warm, smooth, her body was beneath my hands. Her perfect tits, her nipples, how responsive they were to me. The gorgeous little sounds she made. How soft her hair is, how big her smile is. It's embarrassing in some ways.
In some ways, I feel like I'm that boy in high school again, nurturing a crush. Only the reality is that I am a man in his 30's and it is no doubt probably fucking pathetic, what she has managed to awaken within me. But I am trying to be on my best behavior and do the right thing.
It's been hard but I've been strict on myself. I will not text her to see how she is, even although that's something I often wonder about, even at the most inappropriate of times. I don't want to get my hopes up. I know what this was for her and I am an adult, not some hormonal silly fucking boy.
It was just an experience she wanted, nothing more, nothing less. Just because we had something together in that way, it doesn't mean she wants a relationship or whatnot. Things are far different nowadays. Today's generation want different things. Sex is more casualized. I have to keep reminding myself of that.
But I am grateful for the distraction she has definitely offered me. No longer right now do I catch myself dwelling over the bitch ex. Thanks to Anastasia, I no longer think of the ex like I had used to. No, now instead of all the bitterness, all the resentment, there's just... Anastasia in the place of it.
She's been incredibly good for me in that way. But always, I have to remind myself that she's young, she's got her life far ahead of her. What happened between us meant something different for her. Even if I feel these things for her... intense things, I cannot let her know. Even that would be selfish, because she deserves more; so much more than I could offer her.
Someone younger and her age, someone who has the same life experience as she does. Someone who hasn't been married, someone who hasn't already experienced being a father and a husband.
Essentially someone who isn't far too old for her.
Or... mainly most of the things that I am.
ANASTASIA POINT OF VIEW
"You know how I told you how Dad doesn't like me mentioning anything about what I do with Mom on the weekends? And like, how I'd have to be careful with what I say? Sort of like I'm walking on eggshells around him a bit?" Kate says as she drives us towards the house for the weekend.
"Yeah, I remember you telling me, Kate. What about it?"
I am trying to listen to her, honestly. But I'm becoming so anxious that it's difficult to. I haven't seen Christian or heard anything from him since what happened last weekend. In some ways, I feel excited to see him. A stupid, probably naive part of me hopes that something will happen between us again. Like he'll want me to sneak into his bedroom at the middle of the night. But another part of me is terrified that he'll ignore me or pretend completely that last weekend never did actually happen.
"Well, he was acting pretty strange. He told me that he realized it isn't fair, forcing me to not speak about Mom as if she doesn't exist. It was like a weird heart-to-heart thing, where he sat me down at dinner and actually told me that he wants me to be open, to feel... free to say whatever I want. It's weird how he's suddenly changed and now he doesn't care if I mention her."
I know Kate has been having a hard time not being able to talk to Christian anything remotely detailing her weekend spent at her mother's. So I'm pleased for her. But I also wonder what it means as well. "It must make it so much easier, though," I murmur. "At least you can feel free to say whatever you want now without fear of saying the wrong thing."
"Yeah, I just hope it means that he's dealing OK with what happened with Mom. I hope it means everything will be OK once graduation comes around and they are all in the same room together. I was so worried how to cope with it. Like, if dad gets upset, how do I make him feel comfortable with seeing her? And with Mom, how do I not make her feel alienated or as if I'm just solely on Dad's side."
I suppose that is why I am lucky that I have nothing that complicated to deal with as far as family goes. I already know my mother won't be attending graduation. I find myself curious to see what Kate's mom and Christian's ex looks like, but like Kate, I am worried too over what could potentially happen. Will Christian be upset to see her? What happens if he realizes he is still completely in love with her and that he isn't over her? How will he react around her new boyfriend?
"I'm worried too, Kate," I admit sympathetically. "I hope it all goes OK myself."
"I'd really hate for there to be a brawl anyway. Dad apparently used to be known as a bit of a fighter." I can't help the whipping of my head around in her direction at that unexpected confession, my eyes wide. Christian was known as a bit of a fighter? Kate must see something funny about my look, because she laughs. "Yeah, I know. You wouldn't think it, looking at him. But apparently when he was younger, Dad used to get in bar brawls and things. Apparently there was a bit of a wild side to him. Can you imagine how terrible it would be if he punched mom's boyfriend in front of the whole student body and in front of the teachers?" Kate gives me a sheer look of horror, shuddering.
Somehow Kate isn't exactly making this easier on me. Now I feel even more anxious at the impending graduation. "You don't think he would, do you?"
"No idea. I just hope there won't be a bloodbath." Yeah, Kate really is not helping.
The nerves over our unsettling conversation still plagues my mind as we finally reach the house. Kate heads up to the garage, parking near Christian's car. He's obviously already home from work. We head out of the car with our bags, my stomach still in knots. Yet there's a fluttering sensation of excitement in my belly to see him finally too, seeing as it's been so long since what happened last weekend.
I'm not even sure how I manage to get into the house, because suddenly I feel as though I'm numb in my legs as Kate holds the front door open for me. She closes it while calling out to Christian, telling him that we're home. And then he appears at the sound of her voice, and I feel like my mind is paralyzed while my heart skips a beat at the sight of seeing him for the 1st time since last weekend together.
I can't help staring as a wave of unadulterated joy passes through me. He greets Kate by giving her a kiss on the cheek, and he looks good as always, maybe even better than I remembered from last week. He clearly hasn't shaved since I last saw him, because he's got some stubble. Dressed in a relaxed outfit after a hard day of work in loose fitting jeans and a black polo shirt.
As he at last meets my gaze with his gray eyes, I am almost envious at how completely normal and composed he seems, considering what we did together. He looks so coolly unaffected while, as for me, I am probably obviously flustered and panicked.
"Anastasia," he says, my name curling off his tongue wonderfully. Then all I can do is stand motionlessly in shock when he steps in front of me, giving me a chaste kiss on the cheek as well. His stubble feels amazing against my cheek.
"Mr Grey. Hi."
"How was both of your days at school?" he asks us, yet I feel discombobulated, distracted. Suddenly it's so difficult to act normal, especially with Kate around.
"Yeah, pretty good, dad."
"Yeah," I murmur, forcing it out weakly. "Really good."
"That's good." When Christian fixes his eyes on me again while running a hand slowly through his hair, I feel utterly frozen from the inside out. "I have a few things I need to catch up on, so I'll leave you girls to it." It's only when he's out of the room that I begin to thaw out and relax. It's embarrassing and I really need to be normal so Kate doesn't notice anything.
It's just that having not seen him or heard from him all week, it's suddenly made every thought and feeling I have for the man rush back with full intensity the second we are in the same room again. I really need to get myself together.
I drop my bag on the floor, following Kate while she puts her phone in her charger to charge the battery.
At least for a while things seem to return to normal. If he isn't in the room, it's a little easier. But just knowing his presence alone is somewhere under the same roof as me, it makes me in a constantly alert, excited state. Memories of what we shared together last weekend, how good he feels touching me with those hands of his, how I'd stroked him through his boxer briefs in his bed... I flush, a never-ending heightened state of awareness.
Flicking on the large screen TV, I get a few minutes of much needed distraction as Kate chooses a show to watch. But then I hear him and my heart is erratic again. His voice, it floats from 1 room towards where we are, the TV not even loud enough to drown it. He's talking to someone. On the phone, I think. Cautiously, I glance Kate's way, making sure she has her eyes completely glued to the TV screen. Then taking my chance, I peer around the couch, following the sound of his voice and where he is almost at once.
My heart leaps. He's standing straight across from the entryway of the living room where we are, his phone up to his ear as he talks to someone in a low, measured voice.
But his eyes...
He is staring straight at me as he carries on having the conversation with someone else on the phone. Just like that, I am reminded of his captivating, penetrating gray stare. There's something intense, something breathtaking in the way he looks at me. Even as he shakes his head and looks to be irritated by something, his eyes don't leave me for a single second whatsoever.
Quickly checking Kate is still preoccupied watching the TV, when I know it's safe to, I peer back at him but this time I pointedly lower my eyes, drinking all of him in, hoping he notices it himself. I hope he knows I'm perving, that I'm admiring him. And I think he does.
He licks his lips and runs his free hand down the side of his trousers, as if his palm has grown sweaty beneath my look. He must be done with the phone call, because a second later he hangs up. He shoves his phone into his pocket, his eyes still not leaving mine. And then something must happen because quickly he drops his gaze and starts entering the room where we are in slow, measured footsteps. It's only when I turn back to the TV do I realize Kate is looking at her dad.
"What do you girls feel like for dinner tonight?" Christian asks behind us, and then I feel my heart accelerate as he places both hands inches away from the sides of my head on the couch. He doesn't touch me, of course, but I feel the close presence all the same.
"No idea. What do you 2 feel like?" Kate asks. "Ana?"
"Um, I... I don't mind. I'll have whatever you both feel like." Talking while knowing he's right behind me and that his hands are close to my head, it's impossible. But with a sudden daring impulse, I decide 2 can play at this.
Shifting slightly on the couch, I lift up with my arm, resting my elbow on purpose near where his right hand is on the couch. Immediately I feel one of his fingers touching my elbow and it takes all I have not to be obvious with reacting.
"Well, how about sushi?" Kate speaks up. "We haven't had that in a while?"
"Sushi?" I feel I can hardly breathe when I feel Christian's finger stroke up and down my elbow several times. While enviably, with him, he sounds utterly normal and as if nothing is happening. "So it's sushi then?"
But then he steps back and slides his hands off the couch, my elbow tingling at the loss of contact. A thrill spreads through me at what just happened, no matter how harmless and innocent the body contact was. And then I decide to make a game of it, just to see what his reaction will be. So long as Kate can't notice, of course.
As we get sushi I purposefully head into the kitchen to help him with getting plates. As he opens the refrigerator to grab out a bottle of water and some glasses, I make sure to brush against him when passing- all the while in an innocent, discreet way. I have no idea what effort it has on him, but when I reach up to grab the plates on the high shelf while trying to hide my smile, I notice him staring at me. Even as we all sit on the couch, I make sure my arm brushes against his every time I take a bite of my vegetarian sushi.
Once finished, I get up, grabbing Kate's plate to take it out to the kitchen.
"Thanks, I really enjoyed that," I murmur.
"Me, too," says Kate. "Thanks dad."
As I go to take Christian's plate for him, he moves it away. "I can take it out myself," he mutters, but there's an edge there in his voice.
I know he's right on my tail the second I start striding towards the kitchen sink. I shouldn't be grinning as deliriously as I am, yet I can't help it. It only goes wider the instance he brushes up behind me with his backside, his arm coming around me to place his empty plate in the sink.
"I was trying to keep some distance and give you some space, but that clearly isn't what you want, is it?" His voice is low, deliberately quiet in case Kate overhears us.
"No, you're right," I whisper, alarmed at how high my voice is. "That isn't what I want at all."
"Later tonight. When Katherine's asleep. Meet me here in the kitchen?" His voice is oddly uncertain and gentle, like he's concerned about pressuring me too hard.
But frankly I had been hoping he would say that.
HEY ALL, SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TO WRITE A NEW CHAPTER. I NEEDED A BREAK TO SORT OUT A FEW THINGS AND GET SOME CONFIDENCE TO BEGIN WRITING AGAIN, SO THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE! MERRY CHRISTMAS AND I HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL NEW YEAR! THANK YOU FOR BEING SO KIND, I HOPE THIS CHAPTER IS OK AS USUAL AND NOT A TOTAL DISAPPOINTMENT!
NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE GRADUATION AND SOME TENSE INTERACTION BETWEEN THE EX, CHRISTIAN, ETC. WOULD LOVE TO KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS AND I DO HOPE YOU ARE STILL INTERESTED AND THAT IT ISN'T TOO CRAPPY?