CHAPTER 21

ANASTASIA POINT OF VIEW

To say I am relieved by how things are going feels like a major understatement. While there is undeniably some tension there between Christian and his ex, some tension over his ex's new partner being present, things seem to be going quite well considering. Even Kate, who glances over between her mother and father, seems utterly relieved that it's somewhat amicable between the 3. No punches or blood has been spilled, which is a good result.

Kate finally comes over to us, noticing the way Christian subtly brushed off her mother's efforts to meet the new boyfriend.

"Hey, dad. Um, Mom and her boyfriend invited me out to get lunch with them. Is that OK?" Although she looks definitely relieved, her nerves are still palpable, almost as if they are my own.

"Of course, honey. That's fine." He kisses Kate on the cheek. "Congratulations, I'm so proud of you."

"Aw, thanks dad. It means the world." Surprising me, she hugs me this time, fortunately unaware that her father's hand is still resting on the middle of my back. Or if she did notice, Kate clearly thinks nothing of it. "Will you be OK if I leave early to have lunch with Mom and her boyfriend?" she asks me softly as I wrap my arms around her, returning the tight hug.

"Yeah, of course. Don't worry about me, Kate. Honestly."

"It really sucks how your Mom couldn't show." Kate pulls away from me slowly, smiling. "Just know that even my dad is proud of you as well, OK?"

"Thanks, Kate."

"I'll drop Anastasia off home, so you don't need to worry," Christian tells her.

Kate seems even more relieved by that. "Great, thank you. Guess I better head off then."

I may be wrong but things still seem a little tense and frosty as Kate's mother moves past us. I glance up at Christian's face nervously, watching the way he watches Kate drift off with her mother, joining her new boyfriend again. He definitely seems uncomfortable, seeing his ex again after so long.

But all in all, as I said, it seems to be a good result. There was no punches thrown, no arguments. I'm so pleased no one made things awkward for Kate on her special day. And also, who am I kidding? I am also very pleased that Christian didn't literally fall down on his knees, begging Kate's mother for a 2nd chance. Why deny that as well?

My entire body seems to sag in extreme relief as I wave back at Kate before she disappears from the gymnasium, off to have lunch with her mother and her partner. The gymnasium after the ceremony is gradually becoming less and less crowded as students and their parents and relatives file out to leave. Honestly, I am so glad that this day has finally come and gone. Well, I feel washed away in a wave of various different emotions actually, as I glance down at my framed diploma that I was handed out, reading it carefully.

There are too many emotions to decipher. A whole lot of relief, also yet a whole lot of apprehension for the future and what this all means now. I've at last finished high school and have graduated. And now, dauntingly, there's college next and basically the whole entire world and an unknown future opened up to me at my feet. I wonder if all graduates feel this way.

"Is it terrible of me that I'm relieved that this is all finally over with?" Christian finally speaks, bringing my attention over to him.

"No, I wouldn't say it's terrible at all," I admit easily. "Funnily enough, I feel exactly the same way as you do. It somehow feels like it's been... forever, how long it took to get here to this very moment." I hesitate, wondering to ask him the question I want to ask him next. But then I decide I have to know. For my own sanity, maybe out of pure selfishness even, I have to know. "How did it feel?" I ask carefully, trying to word the question with care.

"Come on," he murmurs, pressing his hand firmer up against my back. "Let's go." I let him pull me along towards the exit slowly. "How did what feel?"

"You know." I swallow thickly. "Seeing her again. The ex. Are you OK?"

I glance up at his face again. He isn't looking my way, exactly. He's looking far ahead as he leads me out of the gymnasium, but I think I catch something there. A slight internal struggle between his eyes.

"Anastasia, it was... good," he finally answer shortly after some time with a shrug. "I felt..." He trails off, as if figuring out how to word it.

I falter a few steps, waiting on edge. "You felt?" I prompt eagerly.

"Closure, oddly enough." He takes in a deep breath, then lets it all out. "I felt closure. She looked... happy."

She definitely did look happy, I have to agree, but only internally. She looked very happy and rather smitten by her new partner. "And don't you think that's a good thing? That she looked happy?"

I see him consider my words silently, then he jerks his shoulder, shrugging them off indifferently. Or well, I think he's trying to seem indifferent. "I still think it's ridiculous, by the way," he murmurs, changing the subject. He brings up a hand to comb his fingers slowly through his hair in exasperation.

"What is?"

"The fact that your mother couldn't even take 1 hour out of her day to come see her only daughter graduate high school."

"Well, honestly, I'm not surprised that she didn't. I'm used to it."

"Still, used to it or not, it's... ridiculous."

"Well, you were there for me today. And that means a lot to me." I know I have already thanked him and have expressed my gratitude. I just hope he knows how much I actually do mean it.

"Still, that's different," he mutters dismissively. "Your mother should have been here today. It's inexcusable."

We reach his car in the parking lot and Christian fishes his keys out of his jacket pocket, unlocking it. He opens the passenger's side door for me and I smile sweetly up at him in thanks once I settle into the seat. He slams the door shut, then walks around the car to the driver's side.

I don't know why I'm so surprised when, once he starts the car and we're both safely buckled in, he switches on the stereo and Frank Sinatra starts playing from 1 of his CD's yet again. After all, he did say Frank Sinatra was his favorite artist and, honestly, he is quickly becoming my favorite as well.

"Ah, of course," I tease, leaning back in the seat as he does a good check around the surroundings of his car before beginning to reverse out of the space. "Good old Frank yet again. Why am I not surprised by that?"

He gives me 1 of his spine-tinglingly soft chuckles of amusement as he drives down towards the exit of the school lot. "I know. It's terrible, how predictable I am, isn't it?" He laughs again as his gray eyes meet mine. "I'm so boringly predictable, Anastasia. Aren't I?"

"I wouldn't say 'boringly'. That definitely isn't the right word for it."

With an askance look outside the window on my side, I realize Christian is driving in the complete opposite direction than where he has to go to take me home. My stomach clenches in happiness at the realization. I know he told his daughter that he would take me home but honestly I had been hoping to take advantage of it just being us to have some alone time together. By the looks of it, Christian obviously wants to take advantage of it as well, seeing as he now noticed the chance we have.

"This isn't the right direction," I point out meaningfully, turning in my seat to look at him.

"No, Anastasia, it isn't. How observant you are."

"You don't intend to drop me off home right away, do you?"

"Honestly?" A little wicked thrill darts through me as he meets my eyes, his eyebrows arching meaningfully, a mischievous look there coming across his face that I am not entirely sure I have seen from him before. "No, I don't. At least not yet anyway." He licks his lips slowly as he returns his gaze safely ahead of us to the road. "I thought that, seeing as Katherine is being taken out for a celebratory lunch, it is only fair that you are taken out as well."

"But by you?"

"Yes, by me. Is that OK?"

The fact that he even needs to ask... "It's more than OK, Christian. It's perfect, thank you. But you really didn't have to do this."

"Well, I want to," he assures me strongly.

...

"To you graduating and now, moving onto greater, more exciting things," Christian murmurs, lifting his glass of water between us at the table.

I smile, and bring up my own glass, clinking it against his gently. Then I take a small sip, letting the chilled refreshing water slip down my throat.

This is really nice. He took me to a restaurant for lunch about a 20 minute drive away from the high school campus, a restaurant I have never been in before. It's fairly empty at this hour of the day surprisingly, with just 8 other people seated in the room. The dining area is nice and intimate feeling, with a white bouquet in the middle of the table and pretty pricey meals.

We've already ordered, a 3 course meal each which surprised me. 1st course, is something I have never tried before, but Christian sort of talked me into it. Oysters. I don't even know how to eat the things, let alone have I ever tasted a single 1 before. I'm hoping it won't be too difficult though but he assured me I would like them.

"I still can't believe you haven't had a single oyster before," Christian remarks quietly as I carefully set my glass back down onto the table, licking my lips. I peer up at him, finding him staring right at me.

He truly does look sexy in his suit. I wasn't lying when I told him that, though... of course, I find he looks great in anything that I have seen him wear before at the house when I've slept over with Kate. But there is just something about the man in a suit and tie that I find overly sexy.

"It's true and I haven't. I'm sure you'll be surprised to know that there is quite a lot of things I've never had before."

He hums deeply in response, resting an elbow on the table. His fingers rub along the lining of his bottom lip pensively. Things grow silent for a few minutes where we just stare at each other. I guess neither of us are sure what to really say. All I know is that I am so relieved that he didn't take me home the instance the ceremony ended, that we are getting the chance to be alone again. I really don't think I'll ever tire of being alone with him. I feel like I could spend hours with him and even then it wouldn't be long enough.

"So how does it feel?" he finally asks, breaking that silence that has passed between us.

"What?"

"Being a high school graduate. How does it now feel?"

"Daunting," I admit. "But exciting as well."

"I was much the same when I graduated," he admits, his fingers still rubbing around his bottom lip and chin thoughtfully. "I was so nervous and stressed, much like you are probably feeling right now. But you won't be nervous any longer once you finally get admitted into your choice of college. You'll see."

The waiter arrives with our 1st course, the oysters on a bed of ice with lemon slices. It didn't take long at all. Even just scrutinizing the weird-looking things, I have no idea what to even do with them.

"They taste better than they look," Christian says, maybe seeing my unease. "Trust me. They're easy to eat as well."

"Well, I don't know about that. They don't look easy?"

"All you do is firstly squirt some lemon juice onto the oyster. Then you tip it into your mouth and swallow." He reaches over, grabbing the 1st one on the plate closest to him. "Here, if it makes you feel any easier, I'll go 1st and show you how. You can watch me."

Watching him eat? Knowing how much I already enjoy that enough as it is probably isn't a very good idea, but I can't not watch him.

"OK," I agree. "I'll watch. You go 1st."

I watch as he grabs a slice of lemon with his fingers very carefully. He squirts a decent amount of the juice over it, then brings the shell up near his mouth. Hmm, this will be very interesting. Eyes on nothing but mine, he demonstrates very slowly, tipping his head back slightly as he opens his mouth. The oysters slides in but he doesn't chew, he just swallows. And hell, yes, I like watching him eat even oysters. Pizza, sushi, oysters. Anything the man eats is fascinating to watch.

"There, we go," Christian mutters afterwards, licking his lips. "See? It's easy. Now you try."

Spurred on by his encouragement, I reach over, grabbing my own oyster in the shell. I copy him as much as I am able to- squirting the juice from the lemon, then leaning my head back a little.

"Don't chew," he murmurs, his voice a soft whisper. I realize he's watching me very closely this time. Or well, more so my mouth. Getting it over with, I tip it back into my mouth, the oyster slippery, salty, and lemony. I swallow, feeling it slide down my throat. And it actually isn't so bad. I lick my lips to get the remaining lemon juice off them, and his eyes follow the movement of even that. "So what do you think, Anastasia?" he asks afterward, his voice sounding oddly an octave lower than it usually does.

"It's actually really yummy. I'd love to have another."

"Then go for your life." I see his eyes brighten at my assessment. "Have as many as you like."

"How old were you when you tried your 1st oyster?" I ask curiously as I reach for another.

He seems like he's trying his hardest not to grin as he thinks the answer over. "I'm sure I was around your age, give or take," he admits uncertainly. "Or even perhaps a bit younger. I remember reacting like you did to the sight of them. They don't look too appetizing at 1st glance, do they?"

"They look like squishy, squirmy sea urchins. That isn't exactly mouth-watering."

"I know exactly what you mean, but... sometimes it does you no good, judging something by its cover." He falls silent for a moment to have another oyster, tipping his head back slightly. The more of them I try, the more confident I feel in eating them. Even if he does have a habit of staring closely at my mouth while I do it. "Do you know who Giacomo Casanova is by any chance, Anastasia? Have you ever heard of him?"

"I think I've heard of him, sure. The name definitely seems familiar."

"Well, he was a notorious Italian author and an adventurer in the 18th century. He was rumored to have bedded over 120 women. He was a master at seducing them." His eyes go bright with that familiar look I've seen Christian have before. When he was speaking to me about music, The Stones concert and Frank Sinatra's life. The personal interest in what he's saying, how engrossed he is in explaining it to me, it's amazing. I can't help being entranced whenever he tells me something like this, something he is evidently so interested in explaining. "He would eat these, you know."

"He would eat these? Oysters, you mean?"

"Yes. Apparently he ate up to 50 oysters each morning for breakfast. Can you imagine trying to eat 50 of these?"

I laugh at the thought of trying to get 50 of these things into me, small as they are. "But why? Why eat that many?" Christian looks pleased I've asked.

"Because, apparently, Giacomo Casanova believed that if he ate oysters for breakfast they would increase his sexual stamina." My eyes widen at his words as I suddenly make sense of him bringing it up. "Hence why they like to call oysters an aphrodisiac. Even Casanova- the notorious 18th century lover and master seducer- needed a little help now and then."

"So is that truly the reason you decided on oysters as 1st course?" I ask, mainly teasing, unable to help myself.

Christian tilts his head to the side slightly as he slowly licks the tips of his fingers, probably to get the juice off them. But an aphrodisiac? Really? "What do you mean?"

"You think it would help you in... that department? I don't mean for the whole 'sexual stamina' thing, but the... the whole other thing? You think you really need a little help?"

He blinks at me. I realize he still doesn't understand what I'm suggesting. "Anastasia, I don't-"

"- I meant what I said before, Christian. I really did," I murmur, my cheeks glowing with heat at remembering. Whispering in his ear quietly so no one would hear us. Being brave again.

"What did you mean?"

"What I whispered to you, at the graduation ceremony. How I..." I explain, but then I have to glance down at the remaining oysters in front of us as a blush spreads even deeper across my face and downwards towards my chest. "How I whispered about how... how sexy I find you in your suit." Mustering up my courage, I raise my eyes, peeking up at him. He isn't looking at me and he isn't eating either; I find him grasping his glass of water tightly in 1 hand, while the other, he uses his index finger to stroke around the rim of it. "I think it's safe to say that you, as you are, anything that you do... you are an aphrodisiac within itself." I've never said something like this to anyone before, obviously. But it is honestly how I feel. I find the man is sexy, period. No matter what.

I watch his face as his eyes close momentarily at my words. Something flickers across his face briefly. What is it? Doubt? Disbelief over what I've said about him, even? But then just as suddenly, his face closes off and it's impossible to decipher his feelings on it. Slowly, he reopens his eyes but I notice he doesn't look at me. He keeps them there on the glass as he traces around it with his finger.

His reactions sometimes, they truly do confuse me. Well, perhaps not so much confuse me but shock me. Enrage me, even. He clearly cannot see how wonderful he truly is. How attractive and sexy he is, even. Why? Why is it so hard for the man to accept any compliment that comes his way? What made him feel so insecure and unsure of himself? Was it his ex? Did she never tell him that sort of thing?

"It's true," I whisper, biting down on my lip. "And you are."

He finally speaks, his head shaking side to side the smallest amount. "Anastasia." He says my name like it's a sigh, a breath leaving his lungs.

"But I'm sure you get that all the time..."

He laughs suddenly, startling me. What? Why is he laughing?

"What?" I demand, unsure whether to laugh myself. "What's so funny, Christian?"

"I never get that." His voice is only audible enough that I can hear him. But never? "It's been an..." He pauses, bringing up a hand. He runs it over his face, his eyes closing again for a brief moment, a slow sigh escaping him. "It's been an extremely long time since anyone has said something like that to me."

"But your... your wife even?" I'm shocked, I can hardly believe it. Surely he isn't serious. "What? So when you were married, she never...?" I trail off, shaking my head.

Christian slowly meets my gaze as another small chuckle leaves him. "She may of, occasionally," he admits, a tinge of hesitation to speak of her in his tone. "But not... very often. She was more so the 1 that compliments were given to, not the giver. Not when we were... together."

This woman, this... ex wife of his. What has she done to him? What has she done to make him feel this way?

A noise breaks through my astonished, sad wonderings. His phone. He reaches into his pocket, checking caller I.D quickly.

"Shit," he murmurs beneath his breath.

"What? Who's calling?"

"Katherine." Shit, Kate! "Excuse me. Just let me answer this for a moment. It might be important."

"OK. I'll, um, keep quiet obviously."

I sit as quiet as possible as he presses the answer button while holding the phone up to his ear. I can only just hear Kate speaking in the background. I have no idea how she would feel if she somehow was made aware of her father and me, like this, at a restaurant together. How she would even feel if she knew how sexy I found him and how, barely seconds ago, I was telling him that.

I know she would be livid. Extremely mad and betrayed.

"OK, of course," Christian speaks after a pause in whatever Kate is telling him. He brings his eyes up to me, something unidentifiable shining in them. "No, honey, that... that's fine... That's good. Just have a good time, OK?"

I realize I am barely breathing as I stare at him, my muscles tense. I find that I'm afraid that even something as little as breathing would cause her to recognize who Christian is with.

"Of course, I'll see you tomorrow afternoon then... Yes, I love you too, baby. Have a good time." At that, he hangs up, ending the call. He slips his phone back into his pocket securely before explaining to me. "Katherine's staying at her Mom's for the night. She won't be home until in the late afternoon tomorrow."

Oh, so Kate's staying the full night at her mother's then. She won't be returning home after having her celebratory lunch with them. I reach forward, gripping onto my chilled glass of water. As I slowly take a sip, I realize Christian is staring directly at me, something there in his expression. A hesitant question almost. Wait. Is he... asking what I think he's asking? Does he want me to stay with him while she's away?

Last weekends pleasant events flash by in my mind. His mouth, right down there. His head between my legs.

"Do you want me to-" I begin uncertainly, not really sure if that is what he's silently asking me or not.

"If it's too much trouble or if you'd prefer to go home, I'd understand. Do you want to stay another night?"

"Yes, I'd love to." My response is immediate, certain, without any hesitation whatsoever... because it's true. I do want to stay over at his house with him for another night. Especially alone. I can't apologize for that.

I realize that is deeply what Christian wants as well. Something resembling intense relief flickers across his face, before he purposefully reassembles his features, seeming calmer, less affected. "Then that's good. I would like for you to as well, Anastasia."

...

Back at the house that afternoon, we unwind by sitting next to each other on the couch, watching some TV. Unwind really seems like a bad word for it, because, ironically, I am anything but relaxed. Sitting next to him, the way we're sitting so close, with the side of his body pressed up against mine, his arm resting length ways on the back of the couch, it leaves my stomach in a constant fluttery state of nerves.

I have never been more aware of someone else's physical presence before than I think I have right now. Every time I move my head a little, I feel my hair brush against the skin on his forearm. Every time I so much as move my leg, his leg is brushing back against mine. The flat-screen TV honestly may as well not be on, because I'm not hearing or seeing anything.

All I'm aware of, is him and him completely as he sits next to me. I'm not sure if it's the same for Christian or not or if I'm just being silly, but that is honestly how I feel.

I'm also pretty sure he's wearing some sort of cologne because he smells really nice. Unless it's just him and his smell in general. Some actor on the TV is getting murdered by a street thug with a gun, yet I couldn't care less. I turn my head a little, side-eyeing him from where he sits next to me.

His gray eyes flash in the reflection on the screen and he seems completely absorbed, intent on watching whatever this thing is on.

Maybe it is truly me? Maybe I am being a foolish idiot? Just as that distressing thought crosses my mind, he turns his own head and suddenly he's looking straight at me. He probably felt me staring at him like an idiot. Pressing my lips together and pretending I hadn't been really looking at him, I quickly dash my head back into the direction of the flat-screen. Only now I can feel his eyes lingering on my face and my heart races.

I've been trying my hardest not to overthink things but suddenly, it has become impossible not to. I have been deliberately trying hard not to start evaluating my feelings for Christian. But now that we've been intimate and I know that surely in some ways he feels the same and that he is attracted to me in all the ways that I am him, I've just started wondering whether this is something more, if it could ever be something more.

I know what I want. And what I want is for Christian to be my boyfriend.

It seems rather foolish and reckless to want that, him as my 'boyfriend', because I know realistically he is my best friend's father and already, this is dangerous, this could end so badly if and when Kate finds out. Plus, the man just came out of a rocky divorce and he is obviously still not 100 percent completely over that, is he? So wanting him to be my 'boyfriend', it's a little silly, isn't it?

Besides, I don't want to make a complete fool of myself by asking. What if this is just an exciting fun thing for him with someone younger- his daughter's idiotic friend? What if I'm romanticizing this completely and turning it into something serious when it's not?

But all those questions and doubts aside, all I know is that it's too late. I thought I'd liked him before, when I 1st came home to Kate's and she introduced me to him. But now, that like has turned into something so much, far stronger than what it was before. Could it be that I'm falling for him?

I'm falling in love with him, or at the very least I feel like I am beginning to. I feel like I've really began falling for him and yet, he's my best friends father and she'd totally flip-out if she knew. What's more important- my friendship with his daughter or... this? These most likely irrational feelings?

I toss my head a little, then shove my thumb into my mouth, nibbling down on the thumbnail distractedly as the images on the flat-screen whirl rapidly in my vision. It's just all so confusing. What am I going to do? What am I even meant to do?

"Is this the sort of thing you like watching, Anastasia?" His voice is near my ear and I freeze, panicking. What am I meant to say to that? Sure, I've been facing the TV screen but I haven't exactly been properly absorbing anything that has been happening on the screen.

"Um, not really," I murmur while trying to seem normal. "It's a little too... violent for me, I guess."

"Same actually. Here." He reaches over, pressing the TV remote up into my thighs. "You can turn the channel and find something you are interested in if you want to. I'm not really interested in this 1 either."

Grabbing onto the remote, I carelessly start switching the channels over, my head still too preoccupied with thoughts. It's then I feel it and he lets it happen. I'm not sure if he does it on purpose or not, but his arm drops from the top of the sofa to land around my shoulders instead. My heart rate picks up wildly in response as I bite down on my bottom lip with my teeth while trying to seem unaffected by it.

As the channels keep flickering quickly due to me pressing it with the remote, I realize I would rather do something-anything else- than have to watch the TV with him. I kind of want to kiss him or maybe even make out. Us kissing- it's been a while. Almost a week to be exact, seeing as Kate was here and we couldn't exactly get much alone time.

But now that she's gone...

"Um, I have an idea of something that we could do rather instead of watching some silly TV show," I admit, but my voice is too hesitant, too breathless.

"You do? What did you have in mind?" Christian clearly doesn't even have the slightest idea what I'm hinting to. Maybe that's a good thing.

I find I can't look him in the eye, so I resume with staring at the screen while pressing down on the remote, switching channels. "Well, when was the last time you made out with someone?"

My cheeks redden with heat as I feel Christian sit up slightly beside me on the sofa, his arm instantly tightening around my shoulders, around my neck. It's impossible to know what he's thinking in regards to my comment without looking at him. But I feel like I've surprised him or something.

"Did you really just ask me when the last time it was that I 'made out' with someone?" I catch the restrained humor in his tone, the disbelief.

Bracing myself, I force myself to turn and look in his direction finally. I find his eyes are on me, scrutinizing me intently, like he can't even begin to believe the words that have just left my mouth. His eyebrows are raised, his mouth slightly agape with a smile. The look causes me to laugh.

"You sound so surprised and shocked, Mr Grey, but... yes, I did happen to ask you that. Why the look of such surprise?"

"I guess I just..." He tries to rein his surprise in by pressing his parted lips closed, his eyes narrowing at me. But I can still sense that disbelief there. "I wasn't expecting you to throw that at me, that's all."

"Well, it's an easy enough question to answer, isn't it?" I tease.

"OK, fair enough. And well, to answer your question..." He sighs loudly, glancing away from me for a brief moment, his expression thoughtful. "The last time would have to have been... in freshmen year, I believe. Freshmen year."

"Freshmen year?" Now it's my turn to probably look surprised. But he was married for quite a while? I know he and his wife met in high school and married early at 18, but what? So they never made out together? "So, in all your years of marriage, you both never-"

"We never were really that... physical like that, Anastasia. Plus, things happened so quickly. Before we knew it, we were getting married and... Kate was born. It was extremely fast-paced."

Wow, but to have never properly made out? Even just being silly and making out with each other?

"Well, do you want to make out now?" I have to really force myself to be brave, to hold his gaze as Christian licks his lips, scrutinizing me carefully. "With me?"

I flush the instance I hear a short chuckle escape his mouth. Oh, of course. Of course what I am asking is childish and juvenile. I should have known he would laugh at me.

"I'm sorry," he breathes after a moment once controlling himself, "I didn't mean to laugh at you. I just didn't expect..." He pauses. "You really want to make out with me- someone my age?"

"I do. But what has age got to do with any of it?" I really don't get what he means at all. "And besides, who knows? It might do your heart some good, acting a little frivolous at your age?" I'm teasing, of course.

He laughs again shortly, a twinkle in his eyes. "Ouch. But good point."

I peek over at him through my lashes shyly, unsure what he wants. "So that's a... yes?"

"It's a yes. A yes to being frivolous even at my age." Surprising me, Christian pulls me over with his arm, until I'm straddling him on the couch, my legs tucked over his, my body leaning against his chest. I laugh as I slowly curl my arms around his neck, eyeing him. But he looks like he's still on the verge of laughing too. "Like you said, it may do this 'old' heart some good." He says it in a playfully mocking tone, which causes me to embarrassingly snort with a fit of quiet giggles.

We stare at each other for a moment, our faces barely a few inches apart, my nose almost touching his. I think this is really about the closest we've had our faces together, sort of in a sense.

I'm waiting for him to make the 1st move, but I also see that he's waiting for me to make the 1st move as well. He's grinning up at me, a smile that makes me feel all tender and tingly. His hand runs gently over my back, stroking me through my shirt, his fingers warm and spread apart.

Keeping 1 arm loosely around his neck, I pull the other slowly back until the very tips of my fingers greet his skin and the warm side of his jaw. He holds me captive beneath his warm gaze for a moment as I slowly caress around his jaw. Then finally, he leans in closer, his lips finding and pressing into mine.

I clench my eyes closed, surrendering into his kissing while I trace and skim my thumb up over his cheek. His stubble feels amazingly prickly against my own skin, a weirdly erotic sensation. Then all too soon he leans back, tearing his mouth away from mine to peer deeply into my eyes. I find we are both breathing just as loudly as 1 another.

And for a second, that's all we do. Just peer deeply into each other's eyes as we both breathe loudly. I am once again enamored by his eyes, by how deep and captivating they are. I honestly feel sometimes like I could stare into his gray eyes for years. I gradually become aware that he has his arm half wrapped around my neck, half off it, his fingers gently stroking the back of my head and my hair. He slowly brings up his other hand until he's holding me beneath my chin, stroking me with his fingertips.

"How I enjoy you, Anastasia," he breathes, moving in again.

But just as I'm preparing myself for his lips to meet mine again, he surprises me by instead simply touching the tip of his nose against the tip of mine. I follow suit, diving in purposefully myself to drag and stroke the tip of mine back against his in response. A weird giggle escapes me.

"I enjoy you so... so much," he murmurs, and as I search his face, I see his eyes are filled with something bright. Some bright emotion resembling appreciation. Joy, even.

"Right back at you, Christian. Mr Grey," I manage through a burning hot, aching-feeling body. "I... I enjoy you too." Well, no, I know it's more than just enjoy, it's something far more serious than that. It's falling. I've fallen for him. I know I have.

I brush the pad of my thumb gently over his lips, and he lets me, his eyes on nothing else but mine as he blinks slowly up at me. Even above his top lip, I can feel the tiniest trace of delicious stubble there, of prickliness. His lips part fractionally just as I run my thumb slowly over the lining of them for the 3rd time.

This time, when I do it, I feel the warmth, the quick slipperiness of his tongue as he pushes it out through his lips, licking my thumb with it.

"Do you do this with all the boys?" His comment is so unexpected that I almost burst out laughing. What? Do this with all the boys?

"What boys? Do what? Tell them how much I enjoy them, Christian?"

"No, I mean... 'making out' with them. Do you do this to them?"

"Um, no." I make a face in horror. "I've never really done this before. I mean, there was never really anyone I liked at high school."

"Then just wait. There's always college coming up, isn't there?" Christian's tone, the edge that has suddenly crept up into his voice. I don't understand it.

"I-I don't understand what you mean when you say that?" I murmur, confused.

"Well..." He licks his lips, uncurling his hand from under my chin. He starts doing the same thing that I was just doing with him, using his thumb, skimming it back and forth over my lips softly. "What I mean is that..." He sucks in a deep hiss of breath, "once you start college, just imagine how many boys will be wanting to do this with you."

I can't. I can't even begin to imagine it. Besides, what if I don't want a boy or any boy in general to do this with? What if I only just want him?

"They'll all be lining up, 1 by 1. You just wait."

I feel my brows furrow as I realize what I have to do. It won't be easy though. I'm too afraid to say it, and I was hoping that... maybe, it would have been obvious to him. Clearly not. "What... what is this to you?" I murmur out nervously, finally the 1 thing I have been wondering ever since this 1st started between us a few weeks ago.

"I thought this was... what do you call it?" Christian's voice is hoarse as a slight smile brings up the corners of his mouth. I trace over the faint imprint, the faint smile line with my thumb delicately. "'Making out', wasn't it?"

"No, I know what this is right now." Dragging my thumb away from the corner of each of his lips, I bring it higher towards his right eye. His eyes clench closed automatically as I gently stroke beneath the crease and line of his eyelid, then finally, I smooth it higher up his skin, above his eyebrow, towards his hair. Christian's eyes reopen as I drag all my fingers through his thick hair, combing it back in all the ways I've seen him do it with his own fingers. "But... us?"

"Us?" I drop my eyes back down to his face, watching his reaction. His brows furrow slightly, his lips tight together as he swallows audibly. "Why... why does there have to be any label for this?"

What? So he... doesn't want anything?

"I mean, you... you are going to be starting college soon. There will be... distractions." His eyes are dramatically softer than usual as he swallows again. "You'll be away, doing your own thing. You hardly would have any time to think about any of this, of what's... happened between us." Why do I feel like he's just saying that? Or like he is just trying to convince himself of that? "You've got your whole life ahead of you, Anastasia. I think it would be... unrealistic. Naive even, to try to put a label onto this."

Oh. As the meaning to his words sink in, the rejection hits. It's a rather sharp, aching pain in my side, jabbing me, winding me as my face reddens at the humiliation.

He doesn't want anything more. And really, who am I kidding? Why would he want anything more? I'm just a silly girl, aren't I? Always wishing for more, never realizing what anything truly means...

"Anastasia, what I... I mean is that, I enjoy you a lot," he adds quickly, as if somehow reading and understanding the pain written on my face. "I... enjoy being with you. These past few weeks, being together, it's... been 1 of the greatest times of my life. I can honestly say that."

His fingers tighten at the back of my hair, getting a good hold while his hand comes beneath my chin again. I realize his intentions when he grasps me gently, pushing me forward, angling my head up so I can't ignore him and shut down.

"It's been such a long, long time since I've even felt this way before. I'm not even so... sure I even felt this way when I was with her." With her? I peek up into his eyes reluctantly. With her? He means his ex? "I mean I..." He pauses, hissing through his teeth, his eyes narrowing in thought. "I don't even think I ever really remember wanting her this way, not in the way that I... I want you."

I really don't understand. I can't understand. Why say 1 thing then go and say something else completely? That he wants me in a way that he never wanted her? I am so confused. But I realize, looking at Christian, into his eyes, his expression, that maybe he's just as confused as I am. He's staring intently at my face as he holds me tight, a hand wrapped in my hair, the other still clutching at my chin.

He stares at me like I'm a crossword puzzle or something of mystery, something he's strangely enough confounded by yet weirdly entranced by all at the same time.

"But can't you see, Christian?" I mutter in frustration, "Can't you see that I want you just as much as you apparently want me? So I don't exactly understand why-"

All my frustration, my hurt, my confusion, it's disrupted when suddenly he bends forward, capturing my mouth with his again, drowning me out. He manages to slide his warm tongue through my lips, into my mouth, and then just like that, it's a brilliant distraction from everything.

For now, he wants me. He thinks he wants me more than he ever wanted her. And I suppose that's enough. For now...

...

"Well, I believe we proved Giacomo Casanova's theory right," Christian murmurs to me afterwards in our place, lying sprawled out on the living room floor.

I'm lying next to him, my head resting against his bare shoulder, various limbs belonging to the both of us comfortably tangled.

The two of us are equally as naked as each other; sweaty and sated, and yet for once, I actually have no insecurities left within me whatsoever. My breasts which have always been a major source of my insecurities are completely bare and uncovered. Yet I have never felt more content and carefree as I do right now, laying next to him.

"Giacomo Casanova's theory?" I whisper questioningly, turning slightly on my side to look over at him.

"Yeah, you know..." He lifts his head off the floor so that he can meet my gaze, his lips playing with a smile. "Giacomo Casanova's theory about the oysters and how they apparently gave him heightened sexual stamina."

The instance he points that out, I make immediate sense of his comment. I laugh. "Oh, yes, those oysters." Although it's hard to move because I feel too relaxed, too heavy-limbed, I force myself to. I sit up slowly on the carpet, propping myself up with my elbow. "I honestly don't think it was the oysters at all though..."

"You don't think it was the oysters?" He arches his eyebrows at me, faking shock, I think. "You really don't think they helped with their aphrodisiac qualities at all?" I have no idea if he's simply teasing or not but I take it that he is.

Now that I'm sort of half sitting up while he's still lying down, I use it to my advantage in eyeing him slowly while making sure he notices all of what I'm doing.

1st, I eye his chest appreciatively, licking my lips at the sight of his toned pectorals, the scars, his flat round nipples and the little smatterings of hair there. The man is definitely gorgeous and he doesn't even know it. Then... even lower; His midsection, the defined sculpted lines and hard sinewy curves of his body. His muscular thighs and long legs. How can he not see that he's the aphrodisiac, it's all him? It has nothing whatsoever to do with oysters and whatever this Giacomo Casanova fellow said.

"There," I murmur, my voice too breathless, too hoarse. "I believe that says it all. I think maybe it had something more to do along the lines of the natural aphrodisiac qualities of the man rather than the oysters themselves."

I hear Christian make a little sharp hissing intake of breathe at my playful but sincerely meant comment. I trail my eyes back up to meet his quickly, eager to see his reaction to my blatant perving, as well as my daring comment. His eyes are wide, something similar to shock or disbelief shining in them. And he doesn't believe me. Sadly, I'm not surprised that he doesn't.

"You have no idea on not only how hot and desirable I find you to be, but also how amazing I find you, do you, Christian?" I've noticed he doesn't accept compliments too well, that he's so weighed down with his own insecurities. But I feel it has to be said. "Well, it's true and I do."

I look at his face again nervously before finishing my sentence.

"I mean, every time..." I bite my bottom lip uncertainly, a feeling of sudden shyness overcoming me. "Every time you so much as smile or laugh, every time you so much as look at me with your eyes like you even are right now...it makes me feel so hot, so... incredible."

His eyes are still wide on me and unblinking as he takes my words in, but... there's something else there as well. That look, I've recognized it before. It is his distinctive look he gets when aroused, a delicious, sexy look. He has it now and it occurs to me that it's because of what I'm telling him. He finds my words, my verbal appreciation of him sexy. Powerfully sensual, even.

"Jesus." The word is a deep, emotional-sounding hum coming from the back of his throat. "Jesus, I am going to..." Reaching up with his hand, he catches me around the nape of my neck and pulls me down, rough but gentle. My head yanked downwards, my long hair falling around us, he catches my mouth with his again, kissing me deeply, gratefully, it feels like. "Jesus, I am going to miss you," he breathes against my mouth deeply.

I let myself fall down onto the carpet on my back with a soft groan as he slides smoothly over me, his long legs and larger feet between mine, his elbows supporting himself upright so he doesn't have his weight on me completely. This kiss feels more deeper than the ones from earlier, more meaningful somehow.

When he finally releases my mouth and breaks away for air, he surprises me by burying the side of his warm face up into the crook of my neck, his breaths ragged, warm. Reaching up with a hand, I manage to weave it around his back, sliding it up greedily, following the outline of his spine, the smooth hard ridges there of his muscles as he continues breathing on me, tickling me. Then I reach into his hair as I feel him start to lay open-mouthed, stubble-rough kisses onto my neck, weaving the soft short strands of it through my fingers gently.

I can only be pleased that his face is covered in my neck, that he can't see my face right now. I am grinning and beaming so hard, it's probably pathetic of me.

"Where am I going?" I manage through hard, laborious breaths of my own, confused. "Why would you miss me?"

"College." He says each word in-between shaky open-mouth kisses on my neck. "Where ever you decide to go." Kiss. "I'm starting to get used to having you around." Kiss. "It won't be the same."

I don't know what to make of what he is telling me, that he'll miss me when I go to college or why he feels it means I won't be here anymore. Only I don't know how to articulate an appropriate response, so I end up remaining silent, simply just using my fingertips to massage around the back of his scalp soothingly, my breathing quick. Eventually, his kisses on my neck die down until he's completely still, his steady breaths ricocheting off my skin.

I realize he's somehow managed to fall asleep on me, with his warm face buried in the crook of my neck while my fingers soothingly caress and massage the rear of his head.

I'm not sure how long I lay there for, being completely still and quiet, just listening- and feeling- the repetitive rhythm of his breathing while rubbing through his hair with my fingers. But a while later, I hear a throaty grunting noise erupt from him, and he stirs, his muscles coming to life.

"Jesus, sorry, honey," he mutters apologetically, bringing his head out from the crook of my neck to peer down at me. He's still half-asleep, squinting heavily, his eyes foggy. "This is what happens when you get me feeling too comfortable. I end up falling asleep right on top of you."

"Hmm." I smile as he sits up, a hand raking through his hair as his gray eyes blink heavily at our surroundings groggily. "I really didn't mind. You can fall asleep on top of me whenever you like."

He obviously isn't sleepy enough not to find humor in my comment. He chuckles his spine-tingling laugh softly; a tinge of embarrassment in the sound. "Come on. Let's go lay down on an actual proper bed," he says, grimacing as he pulls himself up onto his knees.

He offers me his hand once he is completely upright into a standing position, and I take it, letting him tug me along upstairs to his bedroom.

...

Waking up the next morning in his bed, I reach over across the dresser to grab my phone, checking the time and if I have any texts from Kate. It's 9.15 in the morning, which means we've slept in pretty late. When I scroll through my texts, I see that Kate hasn't left me any messages. She's probably too busy with her Mom or is still sleeping herself even.

"Good morning," Christian's voice suddenly says from right next to me on the mattress, startling me. I didn't think he was awake yet.

Turning around, I find him still laying his head on the pillow, but his head is turned in my direction, and he's watching me with my phone. He looks bright-eyed and alert. He probably woke before even I did, considering how bright-eyed and awake he appears.

"Good morning," I murmur back with a smile. "I had no idea you were already awake?"

"Well, I've been awake for a while. Probably for an hour or 2, maybe longer." He licks his lips slowly as his eyes search my face. "I woke before you but couldn't be bothered getting up so I just stayed here, watching you sleep instead. The bed was too warm."

He was watching me sleep? Why? I feel myself flush at that.

I realize I'm still holding my phone unlocked and open in my hand and, suddenly, I get an idea. A sudden idea, 1 that probably isn't very smart. But for some reason I find myself wanting to do it all the same. Lying back down on the pillow next to him, I huddle closer, enough that my head is nearly resting right on his pillow while my fingers locate the camera icon on my phone.

"What are you doing?" he asks quietly in confusion.

"I just want to take a picture, that's all." On camera setting, I raise my arm, angling it towards the both of our faces on the pillow. I'm not sure if the shot will be clear or not, but I click it anyway, my phone giving off a little shutter and click. "I know it's probably silly but I...I just want to."

Turning my phone over so I can see the screen, I hit the gallery icon and shuffle through my pictures until I find it. My heart warms as the picture comes up; Our heads aren't completely fit together in the photo but it's still us. Me, lying beside Christian on our individual pillows; Christian staring up into the camera, squinting at it, hair ruffled from sleep. I scrutinize my own face curiously. I look so deliriously happy, my face all glowy, strands of my bangs almost covering my eyes.

"You understand that you could never show Katherine that, don't you?" Christian whispers quietly, his voice serious enough that I hear the unmistakable warning in it. "If Katherine were to see that, she'd instantly know-"

"-I would never show her, Christian," I promise him quickly, my pulse suddenly haywire at the thought, my heart pounding in apprehension. "Not in a million years would I. You know I never would. I just... I wanted a memory." Swallowing down my melancholy, I switch the screen off, reaching back over to put it down on the dresser again. Moving back around, I prop myself up onto my elbows to see him better from where he rests, his head still on the pillow. "Do you really think I'd do that? That I'd tell?"

"I know you would never intentionally tell her anything, honey. I trust you. I just..." He pauses, pressing his lips together as a weary sigh escapes his nostrils.

"You just, what?"

Reaching up with a hand, he slowly passes it over his face, rubbing around his forehead, another heavy sigh escaping his nose. "I just worry, that's all. About... how she'd take this." As he finally drops his hand, I see the shining concern in his eyes, the worry. "How her reaction would be."

"I know and I understand that, Christian. I worry a lot too."

My reassurances that my worry matches his own about Kate ever finding out and what her reaction could possibly be must offer Christian some sort of solace, because with a tight-lipped smile, he shifts up onto his elbows, leaning over towards me across the bed. He presses his lips softly into mine- a silent statement of that part of our conversation being concluded.

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR BEING SO SUPPORTIVE AND KIND, IT TRULY DOES FLATTER ME AND IT MEANS SO MUCH, I AM SO THANKFUL.

ALTHOUGH I TRIED TO BE KINDER TO MYSELF WHEN WRITING, I TRULY AM NOT SURE ABOUT THIS CHAPTER ARGH, IT WAS QUITE DIFFICULT TO WRITE SO I FEAR IT MAY POSSIBLY BE A BIT OF A LET DOWN. THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH HOPE IT ISN'T AS I FEAR AND FEEL IT IS!