where’schristian?thenihearthepiano.quicklyslippingoutofbed,igrab
myrobeandrundownthehallwaytothegreatroom.thetunehe’splayingis
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lamentthati’veheardhimplaybefore.ipauseinthedoorwayandwatchhim
inhispooloflightwhiletheachinglysorrowfulmusicfillstheroom.he
finishesthenstartsthepieceagain.whysuchaplaintivetune?iwrapmy
armsaroundmyselfandlistenspellboundasheplays.butmyheartaches;
christian,whysosad?isitbecauseofme?dididothis?whenhefinishes,
onlytostartathirdtime,icanbearitnolonger.hedoesn’tlookupasinear
thepiano,butshiftstoonesidesoicansitbesidehimonthepianostool.he
continuestoplay,andiputmyheadonhisshoulder.hekissesmyhairbut
doesn’tstopplayinguntilhe’sfinishedthepiece.ipeekupathimandhe’s
staringdownatme,warily.
“didiwakeyou?”heasks.
“onlybecauseyouweregone.what’sthatpiececalled?”
“it’schopin.it’soneofhispreludesineminor.”christianpauses.
“it’scalledsuffocation...”
reachingoveritakehishand.“you’rereallyshakenbyallthis,aren’tyou?”
hesnorts.“aderangedassholegetsintomyapartmenttokidnapmywife.
shewon’tdoasshe’stold.shedrivesmecrazy.shesafewordsonme.”he
closeshiseyesbrieflyandwhenheopensthemagain,theyarestarkand
raw.“yeah,i’mprettyshakenup.”
isqueezehishand.“i’msorry.”
hebendsandpresseshisforeheadagainstmine.“idreamedyouwere
dead,”hewhispers.
what?
“lyingonthefloor—socold—andyouwouldn’twakeup.”
oh,fifty.
“hey—itwasjustabaddream.”reachingup,iclasphisheadinmyhands.
hiseyesburnintomineandtheanguishinthemissobering.
“i’mhereandi’mcoldwithoutyouinthebed.comebacktobed,please.”i
takehishandandstand,waitingtoseeifhe’llfollowme.finallyhestands,
too.he’swearinghispajamabottoms,andtheyhanginthatwayhehas,and
iwanttorunmyfingersalongtheinsideofhiswaistband,butiresistandlead
himbacktothebedroom.
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wheniwakehe’scurledaroundme,sleepingpeacefully.irelaxandenjoyhis
envelopingheat,hisskinonmyskin.ilieverystill,notwantingtodisturbhim.
boy,whatanevening.ifeellikei’vebeenrunoverbyatrain—thefreighttrain
thatismyhusband.hardtobelievethatthemanlyingbesideme,lookingso
sereneandyounginhissleep,wassotorturedlastnight...andsotortured
melastnight.igazeupattheceiling,anditoccurstomethatialwaysthinkof
christianasstronganddominating—yettherealityishe’ssofragile,mylost
boy.andtheironyisthathelooksuponmeasfragile—andidon’tthinkiam.
comparedtohimi’mstrong.
butamistrongenoughforbothofus?strongenoughtodowhati’mtoldand
givehimsomepeaceofmind?isigh.he’snotaskingthatmuchofme.iflit
throughourconversationoflastnight.didwedecideanythingotherthanto
bothtryharder?thebottomlineisthatilovethisman,andineedtocharta
courseforbothofus.onethatletsmekeepmyintegrityandindependence
butstillbemoreforhim.iamhismore,andheismine.iresolvetomakea
specialeffortthisweekendnottogivehimcauseforconcern.
christianstirsandliftshisheadoffmychest,blinkingsleepilyatme.
“goodmorning,mr.grey.”ismile.
“goodmorning,mrs.grey.didyousleepwell?”hestretchesoutbesideme.
“oncemyhusbandstoppedmakingthatterribleracketonthepiano,yes,i
did.”
hesmileshisshysmile,andimelt.“terribleracket?i’llbesuretoe-mail
misskathieandletherknow.”
“misskathie?”
“mypianoteacher.”
igiggle.
“that’salovelysound,”hesays.“shallweha一veabetterdaytoday?”
“okay,”iagree.“whatdoyouwanttodo?”
“afteriha一vemadelovetomywife,andshe’scookedmebreakfast,i’dliketo
takehertoaspen.”
igapeathim.“aspen?”
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“yes.”
“aspen,colorado?”
“theverysame.unlessthey’vemovedit.afterall,youdidpaytwenty-four
thousanddollarsfortheexperience.”
igrinathim.“thatwasyourmoney.”
“ourmoney.”
“itwasyourmoneywhenimadethebid.”irollmyeyes.
“oh,mrs.grey,youandyoureyerolling,”hewhispersasherunshishandup
mythigh.
“won’tittakehourstogettocolorado?”iasktodistracthim.
“notbyjet,”hesayssilkilyashishandreachesmybehind.ofcourse—my
husbandhasajet.howcouldiforget?hishandcontinuestoskimupmy
body,liftingmynightdressasitgoes,andsooni’veforgotteneverything.
taylordrivesusontothetarmacatsea-tacandaroundtowherethegeh
jetiswaiting.it’sagraydayinseattle,butirefusetolettheweatherdampen
mysoaringspirits.christianisinamuchbettermood—he’sexcitedabout
something;lituplikechristmas,andtwitchinglikeasmallboywithabig
secret.iwonderwhatschemehe’sdreamedup.helooksdreamy—all
tousledhair,whitet-shirtandblackjeans—notceo-likeatalltoday.he
takesmyhandastaylorglidestoastopatthefootofthejetsteps.
“iha一veasurpriseforyou,”hemurmursandkissesmyknuckles.igrinathim.
“goodsurprise?”
“ihopeso.”hesmileswarmly.
hmm...whatcanitbe?
sawyerleapsoutfromthefrontandopensmydoor.tayloropenschristian’s
thenretrievesourcasesfromthetrunk.stephaniswaitingatthetopofthe
stairswhenweentertheaircraft.iglanceintothecockpittoseefirstofficer
beighleyflippingswitchesontheimposinginstrumentpanel.
christianandstephanshakehands.“goodmorning,sir.”stephanbeamsat
christian.
“thanksfordoingthisatsuchshortnotice.”christiangrinsbackathim.“our
guestshere?”
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“yessir,”stephanreplies.
guests?iturnandgasp.kate,elliot,mia,andethanareallseatedinthe
creamleatherseats,smilingatus.wow!myeyeswhiptochristian’s.
“surprise!”hesays.
“how?when?who?”imumbleinarticulately,tryingtocontainmydelightand
elation.
“yousaidyoudidn’tseeenoughofyourfriends.”heshrugsandgivesmea
lopsided,apologeticsmile.
“oh,christian,thankyou.”ithrowmyarmsaroundhisneckandkisshimhard
infrontofeveryone.heputshishandsonmyhips,hookinghisthumbs
throughthebeltloopsofmyjeans,anddeepensthekiss.
ohmy.
“keepthisupandi’lldragyouintothebedroom,”hemurmurs.
“youwouldn’tdare,”iwhisperagainsthislips.
“oh,anastasia.”hegrins,shakinghishead.hereleasesmeandwithout
furtherpreamble,stoopsdown,grabsmythighs,andliftsmeoverhis
shoulder.
“christian,putmedown!”ismackhisbehind.
ibrieflycatchstephan’ssmileasheturnsandheadsintothecockpit.taylor
isstandingatthedoorwaytryingtostiflehisgrin.ignoringmypleasandmy
futilestruggles,christianstridesthroughthenarrowcabinpastmiaand
ethanwhoarefacingeachotherinthesingleseats,pastkateandelliot,
whoiswhoopinglikeadementedgibbon.
“ifyou’llexcuseme,”hesaystoourfourguests.“ineedtoha一veawordwith
mywifeinprivate.”
“christian!”ishout.“putmedown!”
“allingoodtime,baby.”
iha一veabriefviewofmia,kate,andelliotlaughing.damnit!thisisnotfunny
—it’sembarrassing.ethangawksatus,mouthopenandutterlyshocked,as
wedisappearintothecabin.
christianclosesthecabindoorbehindhimandreleasesme,lettingmeslide
downhisbody—slowly,sothatifeeleveryhardsinewandmuscle.hegives
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“thatwasquiteashow,mr.grey,”imurmur,crossingmyarmsand
regardinghimwithfauxindignation.
“thatwasfun,mrs.grey.”andhisgrinwidens...ohboy.helookssoyoung.
“areyougoingtofollowthrough?”iarchabrow,unsurehowifeelaboutthis.i
mean,theotherswillhearus,forhea一ven’ssake.suddenly,ifeelshy.
glancinganxiouslyatthebed,ifeelablushstealacrossmycheeksasi
recallourweddingnight.wetalkedsomuchyesterday,didsomuch
yesterday...ifeelasifweleapedsomeunknownhurdle—
butthat’stheproblem.it’sunknown.myeyesfindchristian’sintensebut
amusedgaze,andi’munabletokeepastraightface—hisgrinistoo
infectious.
“ithinkitmightberudetokeepourguestswaiting,”hesayssilkilyashe
stepstowardme.whendidhestarttocarewhatpeoplethink?istepback
againstthecabinwallandheimprisonsme,theheatfromhisbodyholding
meinplace.heleansdownandrunshisnosealongmine.
“goodsurprise?”hewhispers,andthere’sahintofanxietyinhisvoice.
“oh,christian,fantasticsurprise.”irunmyhandsuphischest,curlthem
aroundhisneckandkisshim.
“whendidyouorganizethis?”iaskwhenipullawayfromhim,strokinghis
hair.
“lastnight,whenicouldn’tsleep.ie-mailedelliotandmia,andherethey
are.”
“it’sverythoughtful—thankyou.i’msurewe’llha一veagreattime.”
“ihopeso.ithoughtitwouldbeeasiertoa一voidthepressinaspenthanat
home.”
thepaparazzi!he’sright.ifwe’dstayedinescala,we’dha一vebeen
imprisoned.ashiverrunsdownmyspineasirecollectthesnapping
camerasanddazzlingflashgunsofthefewphotographerstaylorsped
throughthismorning.
“come.we’dbettertakeourseats—stephanwillbetakingoffshortly.”he
offersmehishandandtogetherwewalkbackintothecabin.
elliotcheersasweenter.“thatsurewasspeedyin-flightservice!”
hecallsmockingly.
christianignoreshim.
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“pleasebeseated,ladiesandgentlemen,aswe’llshortlybegintaxiingfor
takeoff.”stephan’svoiceechoescalmlyandauthoritativelyaroundthecabin.
thebrunettewoman—um...natalie?—whowasontheflightforour
weddingnightappearsfromthegalleyandgathersupthediscardedcoffee
cups.natalia...hername’snatalia.
“goodmorningmr.grey,mrs.grey,”shesayswithapurr.whydoesshe
makemeuncomfortable?maybeit’sthatshe’sabrunette.byhisown
admission,christiandoesn’tusuallyemploybrunettesbecausehefinds
themattractive.hegivesnataliaapolitesmileasheslidesinbehindthe
tableandsitsdownfacingelliotandkate.iswiftlyhugkateandmiaand
giveethanandelliotawa一vebeforesittingdownandbucklingupbeside
christian.heputshishandonmykneeandgivesitanaffectionatesqueeze.
heseemsrelaxedandhappy,eventhoughwe’reincompany.idly,iwonder
whyhecan’talwaysbelikethis—notcontrollingatall.
“hopeyoupackedyourhikingboots,”hesays,hisvoicewarm.
“we’renotgoingskiing?”
“thatwouldbeachallenge,inaugust,”hesays,amused.oh—ofcourse.
“doyouski,ana?”elliotinterruptsus.
“no.”
christianmoveshishandfrommykneetoclaspmyhand.
“i’msuremylittlebrothercanteachyou.”elliotwinksatme.“he’sprettyfast
ontheslopes,too.”
andican’thelpmyblush.wheniglanceupatchristian,he’sgazing
impassivelyatelliot,butithinkhe’stryingtosuppresshismirth.theplane
surgesforwardandstartstaxiingtowardtherunway.efficiently,nataliaruns
throughtheplane’ssafetyproceduresinaclear,ringingvoice.she’s
dressedinaneatna一vyshort-sleevedshirtandmatchingpencilskirt.her
makeupisimmaculate—shereallyisquitepretty.mysubconsciousraisesa
plucked-to-within-an-inch-of-itslifeeyebrowatme.
“youokay?”kateasksmepointedly.“imean,followingthehydebusiness?”
inod.idon’twanttothinkortalkabouthyde,butkateseemstoha一veother
plans.
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“sowhydidhegopostal?”sheasks,cuttingtotheheartofthematterinher
inimitablestyle.shetossesherhairbehindherasshepreparesto
investigatethematter.
eyeinghercoolly,christianshrugs.“ifiredhisass,”hesaysbluntly.
“oh?why?”katetiltsherheadtooneside,andiknowshe’sinfullnancy
drewmode.
“hemadeatpassatme,”imutter.itrytokickkate’sanklebeneaththetable,
andmiss.shit!
“when?”kateglaresatme.
“agesago.”
“younevertoldmehemadeapassatyou!”shesplutters.ishrug,
apologetically.
“itcan’tjustbeagrudgeaboutthat,surely.imeanhisreactioniswaytoo
extreme,”katecontinues,butnowshedirectsherquestionsatchristian.“is
hementallystable?whataboutalltheinformationhehasonyougreys?”her
grillingchristianthiswaymakesmyhacklesrise,butshe’salready
establishediknownothingsoshecan’taskme.thethoughtisannoying.
“wethinkthere’saconnectionwithdetroit,”christiansaysmildly.toomildly.
ohno,kate—pleasegiveitupfornow.
“hydeisfromdetroit,too?”
christiannods.
theplaneaccelerates,anditightenmygriponchristian’shand.heglances
atmereassuringly.heknowsihatetakeoffsandlandings.hesqueezesmy
handandhisthumbstrokesmyknuckles,calmingme.
“whatdoyouknowabouthim?”elliotasks,oblivioustothefactweare
hurtlingdowntherunwayinasmalljetabouttolaunchitselfintothesky,and
equallyoblivioustochristian’sgrowingexasperationwithkate.kateleans
forward,listeningattentively.
“thisisofftherecord,”christiansaysdirectlytoher.kate’smouthsetsina
sub一tlebutthinline.iswallow.ohshit.
“weknowalittleabouthim,”christiancontinues.“hisdaddiedinabrawlin
abar.hismotherdrankherselfintooblivion.hewasinandoutoffoster
homesasakid;inandoutoftrouble,too—mainlyboostingcars.spenttime
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someoutreachprogram,andhydeturnedhimselfaround.wona
scholarshiptoprinceton.”
“princeton?”kate’scuriosityispiqued.
“yep.he’sabrightboy.”christianshrugs.
“notthatbright.hegotcaught,”elliotmutters.
“butsurelyhecan’tha一vepulledthisstuntalone?”kateasks.christian
stiffensbesideme.“wedon’tknowyet.”hisvoiceisveryquiet.holycrap.
therecouldbesomeoneworkingwithhim?iturnandgapeinhorrorat
christian.hesqueezesmyhandoncemorebutdoesn’tlookmeintheeye.
theplaneliftssmoothlyintotheair,andigetthathorriblesinkingfeelingin
mystomach.
“howoldishe?”iaskchristian,leaningclosesoonlyhecanhear.muchas
i’dliketoknowwhat’sgoingon,idon’twanttoencouragekate’squestions.i
knowthey’reirritatingchristian,andi’msureshe’sonhisshitlistsince
cocktailgate.
“thirty-two.why?”
“curious,that’sall.”
christian’sjawtightens.“don’tbecuriousabouthyde.i’mjustgladthe
fucker’slockedup.”it’salmostareprimand,butichoosetoignorehistone.
“doyouthinkhe’sworkingwithsomeone?”thethoughtthatsomeoneelse
mightbeinvolvedmakesmesick.itwouldmeanthisisn’tover.
“idon’tknow,”christiananswers,andhisjawtightensoncemore.
“maybesomeonewhohasagrudgeagainstyou?”isuggest.holyshit.ihope
it’snotthebitchtroll.“likeelena?”iwhisper.irealizei’vemutteredhername
outloud—butonlyhecanhear.iglanceanxiouslyatkate,butshe’sdeepin
conversationwithelliot.elliotlookspissedather.hmm.
“youdoliketodemonizeher,don’tyou?”christianrollshiseyesandshakes
hisheadindisgust.“shemayholdagrudge,butshewouldn’tdothiskindof
thing.”hepinsmewithasteadygraygaze.
“let’snotdiscussher.iknowshe’snotyourfa一voritetopicofconversation.”
“ha一veyouconfrontedher?”iwhisper,notsureifireallywanttoknow.
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“ana,iha一ven’tspokentohersincemybirthdayparty.please,dropit.idon’t
wanttotalkabouther.”heraisesmyhandandbrushesmyknuckleswithhis
lips.hiseyesburnintomine,andiknowthisisnotalineofquestioningi
shouldpursuerightnow.
“getaroom,”elliotteases.“ohright—youalreadyha一ve,butyoudidn’tneed
itforlong.”hesmirks.
christianglancesupandpinselliotwithacoolglare.“fuckoff,elliot,”he
sayswithoutmalice.
“dude,justtellingyouhowitis.”elliot’seyeslightupwithmirth.
“likeyou’dknow,”christianmurmurssardonically,raisinganeyebrow.
elliotgrins,enjoyingthebanter.“youmarriedyourfirstgirlfriend.”
elliotgesturesatme.
ohshit.whereisthisgoing?iflush.
“canyoublameme?”christiankissesmyhandagain.
“no.”elliotlaughsandshakeshishead.
iflush,andkateslapselliot’sthigh.
“stopbeinganass,”shescoldshim.
“listentoyourgirlfriend,”christiansaystoelliot,grinning,hisearlierconcern
nolongerevident.myearspopaswegainaltitude,andthetensioninthe
cabindissipatesastheplanelevelsout.katescowlsatelliot.hmm...is
somethingupbetweenthem?i’mnotsure.elliotisright.isnortattheirony.i
am—was—christian’sfirstgirlfriend,andnowi’mhiswife.thefifteenand
theevilmrs.robinson—theydon’tcount.butthenelliotdoesn’tknowabout
them,andclearlykatehasn’ttoldhim.ismileather,andshegivesmea
conspiratorialwink.mysecretsaresafewithkate.
“okay,ladiesandgentlemen,we’llbecruisingatanaltitudeofapproximately
thirty-twothousandfeet,andourestimatedflighttimeisonehourandfifty-six
minutes,”stephanannounces.“youarenowfreetomoveaboutthecabin.”
nataliaappearsabruptlyfromthegalley.
“mayiofferanyonecoffee?”sheasks.
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