DISCLAIMER: FSOG TRILOGY NOT MINE!

APOV

I wake to the loud sound of a cell phone ringing. The generic tone was certainly not mine. Beside my ear, Christian groans, his breath shifting my hair into my face. His arm tightens around my waist. His damn phone is still ringing. I try to escape the noise by bringing my comforter up to my ears and squeezing my eyes shut. The ringing, though, muted, is still too loud to ignore. I think Christian is hiding from the noise by burrowing his head between my neck and shoulder.

His phone rings and rings. After the ringtone completes, his phone lets out a beep to notify a missed call. We sigh in relief and settle more comfortably against each other, my back to his front. Then, his stupid phone goes off again.

"Answer it," I grumble to Christian. He tightens his arm around me. I kick back at his shin. "Answer it before I kick you out," I threaten. It may be harsh, but I need to sleep, damn it.

He lets out a sound of annoyance but unwraps me from his arms. I bury my face into my pillow as he untangles himself from our nest of covers. The phone stops ringing, followed by another beep. I sense Christian hesitate for a beat, and the phone rings again. He groans as I open my eyes. I turn onto my back, eyeing his dark silhouette kneeling on my bed. The only light in my room is that of his ringing phone on my nightstand on his side of the bed.

Christian grabs his phone, looks over the caller I.D., and growls. He answers, barking out, "What the fuck, Mia? It's after two in the fucking morning!" Mia? Oh, right; he mentioned her during our date.

Even though Christian doesn't have it on speaker, I hear a woman with a very high-pitched, shrill voice scream out, "I'm at your club with my friends! You remember Lily and her sister, Beverly, right? Their mom tried to get our mom to hook you up with one of them?"

"Mia," Christian growls, "if this isn't an emergency, I'm hanging up. For the last fucking time, don't call me after midnight every time you want to scream in my ear about some friend you want me to take on a date. It'll never happen!"

Mia shouts, "Wait, no! I'm calling because Bev was having dinner with her flavor of the week and she swears up and down she saw you there, at the restaurant, I mean. With a really pretty girl, like a date! I told her that wasn't true because you're gay and whoever you were dining with was probably a work associate or whatever. But she just showed me a picture she took of you guys holding hands across the table and—what?" There's a pause, I presume someone took her attention elsewhere. "Oh, right! You are all googly-eyed over her! I swear, it looks as if your eyes are sparkling! And oh, my God! She's not looking at you, but you're smiling at her like you're seeing the sun for the first time! It's such a cute picture. Bev, send that to me. I need to show my mom."

My eyes are wide. Damn, his sister sure can talk a mile a second.

"Wait, Mia!" Christian shouts, startling me. "Don't send or tell Mom anything."

"Why not? You know she'll die when she finds out you were on a date. How did it go, by the way? Did you kiss her when you walked her to her door? Did you bring her flowers? Are you taking her out again? If you really want to impress her, take her out on the Grace. She'll die when she sees it. No, no, no, it's freaking cold. Oh, take her out on Charlie Tango. No, take her shopping! She'll never leave you!"

Christian pinches the bridge of his nose. Throughout his sister's spiel, he'd returned to lying on his back and cuddling me to his side. As Mia prattles on about which stores to take me, I ask, "What's a Charlie Tango?"

A scream pierces through the other side of the call, causing Christian to remove his phone from his ear and wince. "She's with you? Oh, my God, I am so telling Mom! You're spending the night together! So tonight, it wasn't the first date? Why didn't you tell me you were serious with someone? Oh, my God, let me talk to her. She must be a saint to put up with you! Put me on speaker!"

"I don't need to. She can you loud and clear. Please, Mia, we were sleeping. I'll call you later. I'm hanging up, and I want you to go straight home. Prescott is nearby, right? Have her drive you home."

Mia whines, "No, please don't go all big brother on me. I've had only two shots and a glass of wine. I'm not even drunk."

"Mia, go home, or else you'll be the last to meet Ana."

Like a bouncing ball, Mia comes back up. "Her name is Ana? That's so pretty. I'll leave, but you better swear I'll be the first one meeting her. Otherwise, no deal."

"Fine, deal. Now leave with Prescott. Good night, Mia," Christian says.

"Great! Good night, Christian and Ana! Pleasant dreams! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" She finishes the call by smacking a kiss though our connection.

A moment of silence follows. In complete darkness again, I can't see Christian well. As my eyes adjust, I faintly begin to make out Christian messaging his forehead with one hand. I giggle.

"Don't," he mumbles. "That girl is a piece of work. I love her, but fuck she is annoying."

"Consider yourself lucky. I was an only child. I always wanted a sister or brother who'd I'd want to kill and can always count on."

He chuckles and rolls on his side to face me. "Want mine? I'm more than happy to gift them to you." He leans closer, and I welcome his gentle kiss. However, Christian becomes excited, and I feel him growing against my thigh.

I pull away. "I'm really sleepy, so I'm not in the mood," I say firmly, hoping he won't get upset. I peck his cheek to soften my rejection.

"Mmmm," he murmurs, and pulls back. "Okay, morning it is then." Christian slides his arm underneath my head and tugs me to him until my head is resting on his chest. I release the breath I didn't know I was holding in relief and disbelief. My eyes burn a little.

"Really?" I ask, hating how small and squeaky my voice comes out.

Christian tightens his hold on me. "If you don't want to, I can't force you."

"Oh." I sniffle. Why am I so relieved and grateful? Why are my eyes welling up? He said it was fine if we didn't. Because Case always got upset. I shove that thought out of my head as fast as it entered. Don't go there. . .

"Truly, Sunshine," Christian says with a yawn. I yawn, too, and smile. "Go to sleep. We have plans tomorrow, or later, I guess. You're going to need your beauty sleep to keep up."

"Plans? Since when?"

"Since my annoying sister gave me an idea. Sweet dreams." He gives me a final kiss on the top of my head. I close my eyes, cuddle into him, and feel myself drift off.

CPOV

I growl deep in my throat. In my arms, Ana grumbles. My fucking cellphone is ringing again! God, damn it, I swear if it's Mia or Mom, I'm withdrawing Mia's monthly allowance for a fucking year.

"If people calling you in the middle of the freaking night is a regular occurrence, you can be damn sure this is the last time I'm sleeping with you," my little ray sunshine hisses. Despite my indignation with the caller, my sleepyhead brings a smile to my face.

I rise carefully and roll Miss Grumpy onto her back. "Calm your ass down," I say without threat and wipe away a bit of drool from where her mouth was on my chest. "I don't like it either." I grab my still ringing phone. As an afterthought, I inform Ana, "And it doesn't happen often. Only with my siblings and security issues." As she places a pillow over her face, I check the caller I.D. and answer. "What is it, Taylor?" I sit straighter, concerned. I flick on the lamp and squint in the light.

Taylor clears his throat, a tick he has when he is uncomfortable. "Sir, I apologize for disturbing you and Ms. Steele, but I think you would be much obliged to know that Cason Westbrook just entered Ms. Steele's apartment building."

"What?" I ask, stupefied and troubled. "At this hour?" It's three in the morning! What the fuck does he want right now? Is he checking on Ana?

"Yes, Sir," Taylor answers. "I gather from your last meeting he will not take it lightly to seeing you and Ms. Steele in a—uncomfortable position."

That is putting it mildly. "Thanks for the heads up. I'll handle it." I hang up and shake Ana. She mutters something unintelligible under her breath. "Ana," I say urgently, "wake up! Your foster dad is coming up."

"Who?" Ana weakly tries to smack my hands away from her.

"Your whatever-the-hell he is to you. Cason."

She springs up as soon as the words leave my mouth. Blue eyes wide open. She wipes away drool from the corner of her mouth. "What? How do you know that?"

I get out of bed and reply, "My security is parked outside and saw him walking into the building." Where the hell are my jeans? Damn it, I put them and my underwear in the hamper. I should have had Sawyer fetch me clothes earlier rather than waiting until morning.

"Why is your security here? And why do you have security?" Her need for sleep forgotten, Ana hunts down a pale gray nightgown from one of her drawers and slips it on.

As she gathers up the dirty sheets I'd placed in the corner, I rummage through her hamper for at least my underwear. This situation is unquestionably a first for me. Hopefully, the last as next time we'll stay at my place, paparazzi or not. "I'm a very wealthy man, Anastasia, if you haven't come to that conclusion already. I receive death threats daily." My anxiety over her deceased father's best friend finding us with our pants down is manifesting itself by snapping at her, but honestly, couldn't she have taken the time to Google me?

Ana shoves me out of her way as she throws my shoes, expensive watch, phone, and sheets into the closet. She also shoves me in, forcing me to step on her shoes and half fall in her hamper. I start to protest until she shuts her closet doors in my face while exclaiming, "Shut up!" I grunt and try to right myself. Definitely never experience this before. Through the little opening between the doors, I see Ana run out and then come back with a scent refresher spray in her hand. I raise my eyebrow as she sprays little spurts throughout her room, giving extra sprays in front of the closet, where I am currently hiding. God, I've never felt like such an adolescent as I do right now. The smell of sex is overpowered by the scent of roses. Unable to help myself, I smirk as she dashes out of her room anew, and I hear a few more sprays.

Suddenly, throughout her quiet apartment, I faintly make out the sound of rattling keys and the lock on the front door clicking. Ana hurries into her room and onto her bed. She flicks off the lamp. Now dark, I hear her comforter sliding and guess she's getting prepared to feign sleep.

The front door opens and closes. The sound of keys being put down on glass reaches me, and I hold my breath. Ana's breathing is slow and heavy. Given that her floor is mostly carpeted, I don't hear steps. I do see the light in the tiny hall flick on. I hear a ringing, but I think that's something only loud to my ears. A dark shadow enters Ana's bedroom. I hold my breath.

Why am I hiding in the closet? I'm not afraid—nor do I care—of this man or his opinion of me and Ana fucking. As far as he's concerned, our relationship isn't his damn concern. However, something in the way Ana dashed about her room, removing traces of me—unsettled me. Her odd behavior leads me into thinking that she is wary of this man's reaction to finding me in her apartment. What is it she suspects would happen? Would he attack me? He does seem fit, but I spar with Claude four times a week, averagely.

Cason surveys the room, reminding me of a predator. The cover over Ana rises and falls with her relaxed breathing. If I hadn't witnessed Ana running around like a chicken without its head earlier, I would think she's been sleeping peacefully all night.

I watch as Cason sits on Ana's bed. I watch as he lays down slowly and moves her hair out of her face. I watch as he whispers something too quiet for my ears to catch. I watch as he kisses her forehead. I watch for ten or fifteen minutes as he stares at Ana's "sleeping" form. I watch as he finally rises to his feet. I exhale as he makes his way out her room and turns off the hall light. I slump in unexpected relief when I hear the front door closes quietly and is locked from the other side.

Ana sits up, her gaze on her closet, at me. I fully open the Dutch doors and step out. Guessing by the bothered, practically sick-looking expression on her face that she hopes I didn't see what just happened.

"What the fuck, Ana?"

Author's Note: Thanks as always for the lovely reviews, faves, and follows! I hope you enjoyed the dual POVs. Let me know via review your thoughts and questions. If they are not spoilers, I'll do my best to answer :)

So I watched Fifty Shades Freed on Friday, and I just loved it! It was hot, sexy, funny, and just well executed. My opinion, and I know many will not agree with me. I wish I were richer so I can watch it again:( I did think it was little rushed and some scenes in the trailer weren't shown, but I believe they'll be added when the Extended UNRATED version is out. Of course, I'll buy it like I did the first two. Sorry for gushing, but I'm the only FSOG fanatic I know and I have no one to gush to. If you've seen it, what did you think?