DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN FIFTY SHADES TRILOGY.

APOV

The sun hits my face in an unfamiliar direct way. No matter how I position my head, it's hitting me full force. Giving up on trying to sleep in, I stretch. Well, try to. Something is securing me. Confused, I open my eyes, but the damn sun is blinding me. I squint and take in my surroundings.

I'm lying on a massive bed that's not my own, naked. I try to sit up but an arm tightens around me. I'm in shock for all of two seconds when my memory comes and bitch slaps me. Holy shit! Christian! I try to twist my head to see him, but all I get is his arm around my waist. Carefully, I lift his arm. He stirs, and I still. When he's settled again, I gently move and twist my body until I'm free of his body. I continue to move slowly till I manage to scoot myself off the bed.

It's no wonder Christian can sleep with the damn sun streaming in here; his face is buried into his pillow. My eyes wander his naked body, and I smile. If I could whistle and catcall him without waking him up, I would. But alas, he looks so peaceful. I don't have the heart to wake him.

I survey his room. It's large, probably as big as my bedroom and the guestroom. Scratch that, I think as I turn around. It's bigger than those two rooms, my bathroom, and kitchen combined. Two large entryways lead into a walk-in closet and a master bathroom.

I walk inside the latter, admiring the vastness and luxury-ness of it. I raise my brow at the his and hers sinks, though the his seems to be the only one in use. There's no toilet in here, but upon further searching, I find it tucked neatly behind a tiled wall. I quickly release my bladder and then wash my hands.

I flinch when I see myself in the mirror above the sink. I look awful. My mascara and eyeliner is smeared and the pink lipstick is smudged all over my mouth. My hair is in tangles. First things first, I scrub my face clean. Then, I rifle through Christian's drawers. The closest thing he owns to a brush is a black comb. I dig some more but sadly don't find anything to hold my hair.

As soon as the last tangle was out, and my hair looked half-ways decent, I go to retrieve my dress. It is lying in a heap of other articles of clothing. I cringe at the wrinkles. Deciding against it, I pick up Christian's discarded shirt and shrug it on. A blinking blue light catches my eye as I finish buttoning up. My phone! I pick it up, and it vibrates in my hand. I have three missed calls and five texts.

Kate: Finally! Some1 got thru! Be safe & call me

Oh, Kate, when I tell you of Mister Sex God, your panties will incinerate. That one was sent at 1:55 in the morning. It brings a smile to my face. The following four, however, wipe that grin off.

Cason: Rose, I'm at the restaurant. Shall I order for you?

Cason: Rose. You're 10 minutes late. I ordered you're favorite.

Cason: 20 minutes late. I'm calling you and if you don't answer, I'm taking you over my knee the next time I see you. Understood?

Cason: 2 fucking times you ignored my call. Where the fuck are you?

The last one was sent two minutes ago. I chew on my lip. Shit. The last missed call was a minute ago. I'm contemplating between texting him back or calling him. Just as I start to message him, my phone vibrates in my hand. An incoming call from Cason.

I walk out of Christian's room and shut the door behind me quietly. Still not thinking it sufficient, I wander out of the hall to a massive open floor plan. Wow. I look around, admiring his place. It's so extravagant. Exactly who the heck did I bump uglies with? Spying the kitchen, I walk over and plant my bare fanny—though I did my best to bring his shirt down to cover my butt—on a stool at the breakfast bar. Only then, do I answer.

"Hello?" I ask, timidly.

"Where the fuck have you been?" Cason immediately yells into my ear. I wince and pull my phone away. "Why haven't you answered your fucking phone?"

I breath in deeply and bring my feet up on the stool, wrapping my free arm around my knees. "I slept in. I'm sorry I made you wait."

"Damn it, Rose," Cason fumes. Even through the phone, I can tell he's pinching the bridge of his nose. "Didn't your alarm wake you?"

"It's on vibrate."

"I can't fucking believe this." Still, he rages. "Are you stupid? You know we had plans to have breakfast. Did you intentionally set this up so I would punish you later?"

I roll my eyes. "No," I insist. "I just forgot. I'm sorry."

He lets out a deep breath, trying—and I hope succeeding—to calm himself. "I'm sorry for yelling. You know how I worry. We could have rescheduled if you'd asked."

I tried, I think, you refused. "Look," I breathe, "I'm not going to make it. I just woke up. I'll call you later when I'm more awake."

"Rose, I'm not done talking to you. It's very rude to stand someone up."

"But it wasn't intentional. Like I said, I overslept a little."

There was a pause, then, "You never sleep in." Pause. "Unless we spent the night fucking. Then, you were dead to the world until noon." He laughs, and I suppress a wince.

All right, time for a subject change. "Again, sorry. Maybe we can have lunch instead. Just eat without me."

"I'm not there anymore. How about we do brunch instead? I'm famished." Through the phone, I hear Cason say hello to someone. Is that Mr. Aguilar from three floors down my apartment?

An uneasy feeling creeps up my spine. Please tell me he's not going where I think he's going, I pray silently. "Cason, where are you?" I ask hesitantly. My feet find the cold floor again, and I nibble on my nails.

"On my way up to your apartment. Why?"

Crap, crap, crap. "I'm with Kate, at her apartment." God, he doesn't need to know I was with another man. He still harbors belief that I'm just going through an independent phase, and we'll eventually get back together. The last thing I want is to hurt/anger him.

There was a telling silence on the other end. I count to nineteen when he finally speaks again. "Are you with Kate, or at her apartment?"

"With Kate."

"Rose," Cason says sternly, "I called Kate before I left the restaurant. She's at her boyfriend's place. She claims you left to your own apartment after having a few drinks with them."

"Um," I say unintelligently. Damn it, that's right. Kate said she was staying with George the weekend. I face-palm.

"Rose, where are you?" Cason demands.

All right, Steele, put your big girl panties on and tell him. He is not your dominant anymore. With as much courage I can conjure up inside me, I announce, "That's none of your business." Each word is steady and clear. I pat myself on the back.

"What the fuck do you mean?" And the anger is back. "Tell me where you are right now." I stay silent. I'd much rather have this conversation face to face. "Fine. I'm letting myself in. You have twenty minutes to come home."

"Bu—," and he hung up. Damn it, now I'm angry.

What part of, "That's none of your business," doesn't he understand? It's been three months since we stopped having sex. Three months since I put my foot down and demanded he stop ordering me around. What is it going to take for him to understand that the only relationship I want from him is friendship?

I stare down at the blank screen of my phone, thinking. Should I go, or not? I don't like pissing him off, but enough is enough. I woke up so blissful and now I want to bash my head into the wall in frustration. What can I do to make him stop?

Suddenly, my phone lights up. I tense up but then relax. It's not Cason, thank God. Instead, it's Kate. Great, if she's calling to warn me about Cason, she's a little late.

"Hello, Kate, thanks for the war—," and I'm interrupted by Kate screeching my name in my ear. "Whoa! Calm down, Kate." I say, not making any sense of her blubbering. "Take a deep breath."

"Ana," Kate cries, "Ethan is in the hospital! My mom just called me."

"What? What happened? Is he going to be fine?" I jump to my feet. Fear settles deep in my bones. Oh, God, don't take Ethan from me, too.

I hear her sniffle through the phone. "He was jumped outside of a bar. Mom said he's all black and blue."

Poor Ethan. "But is he going to be okay?"

"She doesn't know. He was brought in unconscious, and she only just got there herself." More sniffles. "George is taking me to the hospital right now. Can you come? I need my best friend."

I'm already making my way back to Christian's room to retrieve my clothes and shoes. "Of course, Kate. He's my brother, too." I lower my voice to a whisper as I enter the bedroom. "Can you come pick me up? I'm at Escala." I grab my dress and look for my shoes. Where the hell did he toss them?

"Yeah. It's on the way. I think we're seven minutes from there."

"Great," I whisper. "I'll be waiting outside. See you soon." We hang up.

Finally, I see my heels near the bed. I tiptoe over to them—all the while keeping my eyes on Christian. I sit on the floor and strap them on quickly. My panties are at the foot of the bed, but they're torn. As much as I loathe the idea of being underwear-less, I decide to leave them for Christian as a memento. I'm sure he'll toss them out though.

I strip off his shirt and put on my wrinkled-up dress next. Now I'm semi-presentable. I walk over to Christian and plant a kiss on his forehead carefully. I enjoyed last night. However much I'd like to wake him, or leave my number behind, I don't have the time.

After giving the room one last glance to make sure I didn't forget anything, I head out to the elevator. But imagine my surprise when the doors won't open. Shit! I remember Christian saying this was a private elevator. Fuck, do I need a card to get out? Perhaps a code? God dammit! I check the time. I have two minutes left. Frustrated, I hit the call button again. Nothing.

I continue pressing it aggressively when the doors open abruptly, revealing a tall blond man. He stares at me in shock with his mouth open.

"Um, excuse me," I say.

He blinks a few times before a sly smirk graces his face. "Girls. Who would have guessed?" He mumbles to himself, looking me up and down. "I'm Elliot."

I stare at his outstretched hand and bite back my annoyance. "Hello, Elliot. I'm Ana." I impatiently take his hand and then quickly let it go. "Please excuse me. I have a family emergency. I need to leave."

Not hiding his surprise, Elliot finally steps out of the elevator. I squeeze past his large frame and enter the elevator. I have just pushed the button for the lobby when he speaks again. "Wait! Does Christian have your number?"

I shake my head as I feel myself blush. "It was a onetime thing. It was nice to meet you, Elliot."

The doors are beginning to close, but Elliot pushes his hand through to hold them open. "Hold on. Does he know that?"

"He will. Please move your hand." I snap. Kate should just be getting here. "I have an emergency. I have to go."

"Just tell me your full name. Please," Elliot begs, his grin now completely gone. He looks desperate, in stark contrast to his earlier elated expression.

Jesus Christ! "It's Anastasia Rose Steele. Move please."

He smiles but it looks forced. "Sorry. It's just that—ah—never mind." He clears his throat noisily. "Bye." He removes his hand from blocking the doors. "I hope your family emergency works itself out." He calls out just as the doors close.

A/N:

Thanks to the faves, follows, and reviews:)

Ana calls Ethan her brother, but they do not share any blood. Ana is just really close to Kate and Ethan. Also, there is no romance between them.