There was that guy in my chemistry class who liked me, but no one has ever sparked my interest - no one except Christian damn Grey. So I have always been the one to rebuff any would be admirers. A lifetime of insecurity - I'm too pale, too skinny, too scruffy, uncoordinated, my long list of faults goes on. Romantically, though, I've never put myself out there, ever. I am a serious liability in any sporting field. so I was always one of the last to be picked for basketball or volleyball - but I understood that - running and doing something else at the same time like bouncing or throwing a ball is not my thing. I have never been on the receiving end of rejection. Mourning something that never was - my dashed hopes, dashed dreams, and my soured expectations. I am crying over the loss of something I never had. Placing my head on my knees, I let the irrational tears fall unrestrained. Perhaps this nonsensical pain will be smaller the smaller I am. I want to make myself as small as possible. Drawing up my knees, I fold in on myself. Why am I crying I sink to the ground, angry at myself for this senseless reaction.
What was I thinkingUnbidden and unwelcome tears pool in my eyes. Once underneath the dark, cold concrete of the garage with its bleak fluorescent light, I lean against the wall and put my head in my hands. Grey." I turn on my heel, vaguely amazed that I don't trip, and without giving him a second glance, I disappear down the sidewalk toward the underground garage. Huh This is why he looks so desolateThis is the big send offJust to wish me luck in my exams? "Thanks." I can't disguise the sarcasm in my voice. I need to take my fragile, wounded pride away and somehow nurse it back to health. "What, Christian?" I snap irritably after he says - nothing. He looks torn, frustrated, his expression stark, all his careful control has evaporated. His gray eyes are bleak as he runs his hand through his hair. " He stops, and the anguish in his voice demands my attention, so I peer unwillingly up at him. "Thanks for the tea and doing the photo shoot," I murmur. Outside the hotel, I turn briefly to face him but cannot look him in the eye. I quickly make my way across, conscious that Grey is behind me. I wrap my arms around myself and turn to face the road and note with relief that the green man has appeared. What would Christian Grey want with you My subconscious mocks me. All my vague, unarticulated hopes have been dashed. Do you want to come and sit down in the hotel for a moment?" He releases me, his hands by his sides, and I'm standing in front of him feeling like a fool. I shudder to think what could have happened to you. How could I have misread the situation between us so utterlyI need to get away from him. "Thank you," I mutter awash with humiliation. "I've got this," I breathe, finding my voice. I have royally screwed up the coffee morning. And the only thing I can think is that I wanted to be kissed, made it pretty damned obvious, and he didn't do it. He has his hands on my shoulders, holding me at arm's length, watching my reactions carefully. NO! My psyche screams as he pulls away, leaving me bereft. Adrenaline has spiked through my body, from the near miss with the cyclist or the heady proximity to Christian, leaving me wired and weak. I'm going to stand you up and let you go," he says quietly, and he gently pushes me away. I frown up at him, and my head swims with rejection. WhatWhere is this coming from Surely I should be the judge of that. "Anastasia, you should steer clear of me. When he opens his eyes again, it's with some new purpose, a steely resolve.
He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and gives me a small shake of his head as if in answer to my silent question. He's breathing harder than usual, and I've stopped breathing altogether. I'm staring at Christian Grey's exquisitely sculptured mouth, mesmerized, and he's looking down at me, his gaze hooded, his eyes darkening. I'm paralyzed with a strange, unfamiliar need, completely captivated by him. Kiss me damn it! I implore him, but I can't move.
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