something to eat. We are sitting at the breakfast bar, and despite my best cajoling, Christian won’t tell me what Barney has found on Jack’s computer. I drop the subject, and decide to tackle instead the thorny issue of José’s impending visit.
“José called,” I say nonchalantly.
“Oh?” Christian turns to face me.
“He wants to deliver your photos on Friday.”
“A personal delivery. How accommodating of him,” Christian mutters.
“He wants to go out. For a drink. With me.”
“I see.”
“And Kate and Elliot should be back,” I add quickly.
Christian puts his fork down, frowning at me.
“What exactly are you asking?”
I bristle. “I’m not asking anything. I’m informing you of my plans for Friday. Look, I want to see José, and he wants to stay over. Either he stays here or he can stay at my place, but if he does I should be there, too.”
Christian’s eyes widen. He looks dumbfounded.
“He made a pass at you.”
“Christian, that was weeks ago. He was drunk, I was drunk, you saved the day—it won’t happen again. He’s no Jack, for heaven’s sake.”
“Ethan’s there. He can keep him company.”
“He wants to see me, not Ethan.”
Christian scowls at me.
“He’s just a friend.” My voice is emphatic.
“I don’t like it.”
So what? Jeez, he’s irritating sometimes. I take a deep breath. “He’s my friend, Christian. I haven’t seen him since his show. And that was too brief. I know you don’t have any friends, apart from that god-awful woman, but I don’t moan about you seeing her,” I snap. Christian blinks, shocked. “I want to see him. I’ve been a poor friend to him.” My subconscious is alarmed. Are you stamping your little foot? Steady now!
Gray eyes blaze at me. “Is that what you think?” he breathes.
“Think about what?”
“Elena. You’d rather I didn’t see her?”
Holy cow. “Exactly. I’d rather you didn’t see her.”
“Why didn’t you say?”
“Because it’s not my place to say. You think she’s your only friend.” I shrug in exasperation. He really doesn’t get it. How did this turn into a conversation about her? I don’t even want to think about her. I try to steer us back to José. “Just as it’s not your place to say if I can or can’t see José. Don’t you see that?”
Christian gazes at me, perplexed, I think. Oh, what is he thinking?
“He can stay here, I suppose,” he mutters. “I can keep an eye on him.” He sounds petulant.
Hallelujah!
“Thank you! You know, if I am going to live here, too . . .” I trail off. Christian nods. He knows what I’m trying to say. “It’s not like you haven’t got the space.” I smirk.
His lips quirk up slowly. “Are you smirking at me, Miss Steele?”
“Most definitely, Mr. Grey.” I get up just in case his palms start twitching, clear our plates, and then load them into the dishwasher.
“Gail will do that.”
“I’ve done it now.” I stand up and gaze at him. He’s watching me intently.
“I have to work for a while,” he says apologetically.
“Cool. I’ll find something to do.”
“Come here,” he orders, but his voice is soft and seductive, his eyes heated. I don’t hesitate to walk into his arms, clasping him around his neck as he perches on his bar stool. He wraps his arms around me, crushes me to him, and just holds me.
“Are you okay?” he whispers into my hair.
“Okay?”
“After what happened with that fucker? After what happened yesterday?” he adds, his voice quiet and earnest.
I gaze into dark, serious, gray eyes. Am I okay? “Yes,” I whisper.
His arms tighten around me, and I feel safe, cherished, and loved all at once. It’s blissful. Closing my eyes, I enjoy the feel of being in his arms. I love this man. I love his intoxicating scent, his strength, his mercurial ways—my Fifty.
“Let’s not fight,” he murmurs. He kisses my hair and inhales deeply. “You smell heavenly as usual, Ana.”
“So do you,” I whisper and kiss his neck.
All too soon he releases me. “I should only be a couple of hours.”
I wander listlessly through the apartment. Christian is still working. I have showered and dressed in some sweats and a T-shirt of my own, and I’m bored. I don’t want to read. If I sit still, I’ll recall Jack and his fingers on me.
I check out my old bedroom, the subs’ room. José can sleep here—he’ll like the view. It’s about eight fifteen, and the sun is beginning to sink into the west. The lights of the city twinkle below me. It’s glorious. Yes, José will like it here. I