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My hand, wet and slick with soap, travels down her body, over her breasts, her belly, down to her sex. I tease her with my fingers while I consume her mouth and her tongue, keeping her head in place with my other hand.

  I slip my fingers inside her and she moans in my mouth.

  "Yes," I hiss. She's ready. I lift her, my hands on her backside. "Wrap your legs around me, baby." She does as she's told, wrapping around me like warm, wet silk. I brace her against the wall.

  We're skin on skin.

  "Eyes open. I want to see you." She peers up at me, her pupils large and full of need. Slowly I sink into her, keeping my eyes on hers. I pause. Holding her on me. Holding her up. Feeling her.

  "You are mine, Anastasia."

  "Always."

  Her answer makes me feel ten feet tall.

  "And now we can let everyone know, because you said yes."

  Leaning down, I kiss her and ease out of her, taking my time. Savoring her. She closes her eyes and tilts back her head as we move together.

  Us.

  Together.

  As one.

  I speed up. Needing more. Needing her. Enjoying her. Loving her. Her small cries spur me on, telling me she's climbing higher and higher. With me. Taking me.

  She cries out when she comes, her head back against the wall, and I follow her, finding my release and burying my face in her neck.

  Carefully, I sink to the floor as the water stream rains down on us. I hold her face in my hands and I can see that she's crying.

  Baby.

  I kiss away each tear.

  She shifts so her back is against mine and neither of us says anything. Our silence is golden. Quiet. After all the anxiety of this afternoon and evening, my crash landing, my marathon trek, the endless road trip, I've found some peace. I rest my chin on her head, my legs wrapped around her while I hold her in my arms. I love this woman--this beautiful, brave, young woman who will soon be my wife.

  Mrs. Grey.

  I grin and nuzzle her wet hair, surrendering us both to the cascading water.

  "My fingers are pruny," she remarks, staring down at her hands. I take her fingers in mine and kiss each one.

  "We should really get out of this shower."

  "I'm comfortable here," she says.

  Me, too, baby. Me, too.

  She sags against me and stares, at my toes I think, and then she chuckles.

  "Something amusing you, Miss Steele?"

  "It's been a busy week."

  "That it has."

  "I thank God you're back in one piece, Mr. Grey." She's suddenly serious.

  I might not have been here.

  Shit.

  If...

  I swallow as my throat constricts, and an image comes to mind of the ground speeding toward me and Ros in the cockpit of Charlie Tango. I shudder. "I was scared," I whisper.

  "Earlier?"

  I nod.

  "So you made light of it to reassure your family?"

  "Yes. I was too low to land well. But somehow I did."

  She stares at me, fear on her face. "How close a call was it?"

  "Close. For a few awful seconds, I thought I'd never see you again." This feels like a dark, dark confession.

  She moves and puts her arms around me. "I can't imagine my life without you, Christian. I love you so much it frightens me."

  Whoa.

  But I feel the same. "Me, too. My life would be empty without you. I love you so much." I tighten my arms around her and kiss her hair. "I won't ever let you go."

  "I don't want to go, ever." She kisses my throat and I bend down and kiss her.

  I'm getting pins and needles in my feet. "Come--let's get you dry and into bed. I'm tired and you look beat."

  She lifts an eyebrow.

  "You have something to say, Miss Steele?"

  She shakes her head and stands, waiting for me.

  We clear our clothes and I grab my cuff links. Ana dumps our soaking clothes into her sink. "I'll deal with these tomorrow," she says.

  "Good idea." I wrap her in a towel and place one around my waist. As we brush our teeth at my sink, she gives me a frothy grin, and we both try not to laugh and choke on the toothpaste when I reciprocate.

  I'm fourteen again.

  In a good way.

  I FINISH DRYING HER hair and she climbs into bed. She looks the way I feel, exhausted. I take another look at the keychain and at my favorite word ever written in the English language.

  A word full of hope and possibilities.

  She said yes.

  I grin and join her in bed. "This is so neat. The best birthday present I've ever had. Better than my signed Giuseppe DeNatale poster."

  "I would have told you earlier, but since it was going to be your birthday..." Ana lifts her shoulder. "What do you give the man who has everything? I thought I'd give you...me."

  I place the keychain on my bedside table and snuggle up to Ana, pulling her into my arms. "It's perfect. Like you."

  "I am far from perfect, Christian."

  "Are you smirking at me, Miss Steele?"

  "Maybe." She chuckles.

  I can tell, Ana. Your body language gives you away.

  "Can I ask you something?" she adds.

  "Of course."

  "You didn't call on your trip back from Portland. Was that really because of Jose? You were worried about me being here alone with him?"

  Maybe...

  I feel like an idiot. I thought she was at the bar having a good time. I had no idea--

  "Do you know how ridiculous that is?" she says, as she turns to face me, her eyes full of reproach. "How much stress you put your family and me through? We all love you very much."

  "I had no idea you'd all be so worried."

  "When are you going to get it through your thick skull that you are loved?"

  "Thick skull?"

  "Yes. Thick skull."

  "I don't think the bone density of my head is significantly higher than anywhere else in my body."

  "I'm serious! Stop trying to make me laugh. I am still a little mad at you, though that's partially eclipsed by the fact that you're home safe and sound when I thought--" She stops and swallows and in a quieter tone continues. "Well, you know what I thought."

  I caress her face. "I'm sorry. Okay?"

  "Your poor mom, too. It was very moving, seeing you with her," she says quietly.

  "I've never seen her that way."

  Grace sobbing.

  Mom.

  Mom sobbing.

  "Yes, that was really something. She's normally so self-possessed. It was quite a shock."

  "See? Everyone loves you. Perhaps now you'll start believing it." She kisses me. "Happy birthday, Christian. I'm glad you're here to share your day with me. And you haven't seen what I've got for you tomorrow, um, today."

  "There's more?" I'm astonished. What more could I possibly want?

  "Oh yes, Mr. Grey, but you'll have to wait until then."

  She cuddles up to me and closes her eyes, and in moments she's asleep. I'm amazed at how she can fall asleep so quickly.

  "My precious girl. I'm sorry. I'm sorry to make you worry," I whisper, and kiss her forehead. Feeling more content than I've ever felt in my life, I close my eyes.

  Ana, burnished hair and broad smiles, is with me in Charlie Tango.

  Let's chase the dawn.

  She laughs. Carefree. Young. My girl.

  The light around us is golden.

  She's golden.

  I'm golden.

  I cough. There's smoke. Smoke everywhere.

  I can't see Ana. She's gone in the smoke.

  And we're diving down. Down.

  Hurtling fast. In Charlie Tango.

  The ground is coming up to meet me.

  I close my eyes, waiting for the impact.

  It never comes.

  We're in the orchard.

  The trees are laden with apples.

  Ana smiles, her hair free and wafting in the breeze.

 
She holds out two apples. A red apple. A green apple.

  You choose.

  Choose.

  Red. Green.

  I smile. And take the red apple.

  The sweeter apple.

  Ana takes my hand and we walk.

  Hand in hand.

  Past the alcoholics and addicts outside the liquor store in Detroit.

  They wave and hold up their brown paper bags in salute.

  Past Esclava. Elena smiles and waves.

  Past Leila. Leila smiles and waves.

  Ana takes my apple. She bites into it.

  Mmm...tasty. She licks her lips.

  Delicious. I love it.

  I made it. With Grandpa.

  Wow. You're so capable.

  She smiles and whirls around, her hair flying.

  I love you, she cries. I love you, Christian Grey.

  I wake, startled by my dream. But, I'm left with a sense of contentment, when normally I'm terrified of my dreams.

  The Anastasia Steele effect.

  I grin and look around. She's not in bed. Before I get up, I check my charged phone. I have too many messages, mostly from Sam, but I don't want to deal with him just yet. I switch off my phone and pick up my keychain to examine it once more.

  She said "Yes."

  That wasn't the most romantic proposal.

  She's right. She deserves better. If she wants the hearts and flowers shit, then I need to step up. I have an idea, and Google a florist near my parents' home. They're not yet open so I leave a voice mail.

  Shit. I'm going to need a ring. Today.

  I'll deal with that later.

  In the meantime, I go looking for Ana. She's not in the bathroom. I wander toward the living room and hear her voice. She's talking to her friend. I pause. And listen.

  "You really like him, don't you?" Jose says.

  "I love him, Jose."

  That's my girl.

  "What's not to love?" Jose says and I think he's referring to my apartment.

  "Gee, thanks!" Ana exclaims, sounding hurt.

  What an asshole.

  "Hey, Ana, just kidding." Jose tries to placate her. "Seriously, I'm kidding. You've never been that kind of girl."

  No. She's not. You dick.

  "Omelet good for you?" she asks him.

  "Sure."

  "And me," I state, striding into the kitchen, surprising them both. "Jose." I greet him with a nod.

  "Christian." Jose returns my nod.

  Yeah. I heard you, you fucker, disrespecting my girl.

  She's giving me an odd look. She knows what I'm doing. "I was going to bring you breakfast in bed," she says. I saunter over to her, in front of the photographer, tilt up her chin, and kiss her, long, hard, and noisily.

  "Good morning, Anastasia," I whisper.

  "Good morning, Christian. Happy birthday." She gives me a shy smile.

  "I'm looking forward to my other present," I state, and she blushes and looks nervously in Rodriguez's direction.

  Oh. What does she have planned?

  Rodriguez looks like he's swallowed a lemon.

  Good.

  "So what are your plans today, Jose?" I ask, keeping it polite.

  "I'm heading up to see my dad and Ray, Ana's dad."

  "They know each other?" I frown at this new tidbit of information.

  "Yeah, they were in the Army together. They lost contact until Ana and I were in college. It's kinda cute. They're best buds now. We're going on a fishing trip."

  "Fishing?" He really doesn't look the type.

  "Yeah--some great catches in these coastal waters. The steelheads can grow way big."

  "True. My brother Elliot and I landed a thirty-four-pound steelhead once."

  "Thirty-four pounds?" Jose says, and he seems genuinely impressed. "Not bad. Ana's father, though, he holds the record. A forty-three-pounder."

  "You're kidding! He never said." But Ray wouldn't brag. That's not his thing, just like his daughter.

  "Happy birthday, by the way."

  "Thanks. So, where do you like to fish?"

  "All around the Pacific Northwest. Dad's favorite is the Skagit."

  "Really, that's my dad's favorite, too." I'm surprised yet again.

  "He prefers the Canadian side. Ray on the other hand prefers the American."

  "Lead to some arguments?"

  "Sure, after a beer or two." Jose grins and I settle in beside him at the kitchen counter. Maybe this guy's not such a dick.

  "So your dad likes the Skagit. What about you?" I ask.

  "I prefer coastal waters."

  "You do?"

  "Sea fishing is harder. More exciting. More of a challenge. I love the sea."

  "I remember the seascapes in your exhibition. They were good. By the way, thanks for dropping those portraits off."

  He's embarrassed by the compliment. "No problem. Where do you like to fish?"

  We discuss at length the merits of fishing in rivers, in lakes, and at sea. He's passionate about it, too.

  Ana makes breakfast and watches us--happy, I think, that we're getting along.

  She pops a steaming omelet and a coffee on the counter for each of us, and sits down beside me to eat her granola. Our conversation segues from fishing to baseball, and I hope we're not boring her. We talk about the upcoming Mariners game--he's a fan--and I realize that Jose and I have much in common.

  Including loving the same woman.

  The woman who has agreed to be my wife.

  I'm dying to tell him, but I behave.

  Once I finish my breakfast, I change quickly into jeans and a T-shirt. When I come back into the kitchen, Jose is clearing his plate.

  "Ana, that was delicious."

  "Thank you." She colors in response to Jose's praise.

  "I have to go. I have to drive out to Bandera and meet the old man."

  "Bandera?" I ask.

  "Yes, we're fishing for trout in the Mount Baker National Forest. One of the lakes near there."

  "Which one?"

  "Lower Tuscohatchie."

  "I don't think I know that one. Good luck."

  "Thanks."

  "Say hi to Ray for me," Ana adds.

  "Will do."

  Arm in arm, Ana and I accompany Jose into the foyer.

  "Thanks for letting me crash here." He shakes my hand.

  "Anytime," I respond. And I'm surprised that I actually mean it. He seems harmless enough, like a puppy. He hugs Ana, and to my surprise, I don't want to rip his arms off.

  "Stay safe, Ana."

  "Sure. Great to see you. Next time we'll have a real evening out," she says, as he enters the elevator.

  "I'll hold you to that." He waves from inside and the doors close.

  "See, he's not so bad," Ana says.

  Maybe.

  "He still wants into your panties, Ana. But can't say I blame him."

  "Christian, that's not true!"

  "You have no idea, do you? He wants you. Big-time."

  "Christian, he's just a friend, a good friend."

  I hold up my hands in surrender. "I don't want to fight."

  "Me neither."

  "You didn't tell him we were getting married."

  "No. I figured I ought to tell Mom and Ray first."

  "Yes, you're right. And I...um, I should ask your father."

  She laughs. "Oh, Christian--this isn't the eighteenth century."

  "It's traditional."

  And I never thought I'd have to ask any father for his daughter's hand in marriage. Give me this moment. Please.

  "Let's talk about that later," she says. "I want to give you your other present."

  Another present?

  Nothing can top the keychain.

  Her smile is mischievous and her teeth sink into her lower lip.

  "You're biting your lip again." I tug gently at her chin. She gives me her coy look but she squares her shoulders, takes my hand, and drags me back into the bedroom.

  From under the bed, s
he produces two wrapped gift boxes.

  "Two?"

  "I bought this before the, um...incident yesterday. I'm not sure about it now." She gives me one of the parcels, but she looks anxious about it.

  "Sure you want me to open it?"

  She nods.

  I tear off the wrapping.

  "Charlie Tango," Ana whispers.

  Inside the box are the parts for a little wooden helicopter. But the bit that blows me away is the rotor. "Solar-powered. Wow." What a thoughtful gift. And from deep in my past, a memory surfaces. My first Christmas. My first proper Christmas with Mom and Dad.

  My helicopter can fly.

  My helicopter is blue.

  It flies around the Christmas tree.

  It flies over the piano and lands in the middle of the white.

  It flies over Mommy and flies over Daddy.

  And flies over Lelliot as he plays with his Legos.

  With Ana watching, I sit down and start to assemble it. It snaps together easily, and I hold the little blue copter in my hand.

  I love it.

  I beam at Ana and go over to the balcony window, where I watch the rotors start to spin under the warm rays of the sun. "Look at that. What we can already do with this technology." I hold the helicopter at eye level, watching how easily solar energy is converted to mechanical energy. The rotors spin and spin, faster and faster.

  Wow. All this in a child's toy.

  There is so much more that we could do with this simple technology. The challenge is how to store this energy. Graphene is the way to go...but can we build efficient enough batteries? Batteries that charge quickly and hold their charge--

  "You like it?" Ana interrupts my thoughts.

  "Ana, I love it. Thank you." I grab her and kiss her and we watch the rotors spin. "I'll add it to the glider in my office." I move my hand out of the light and the rotors slow and come to a complete stop.

  We move in the light.

  We slow in the shadows.

  We stop in the dark.

  Hmm. Philosophical, Grey.

  This is what Ana has done for me. She's dragged me into the light and I quite like it.

  I place Charlie Tango Mark II on the chest of drawers. "It'll keep me company while we salvage Charlie Tango."

  "Is it salvageable?"

  "I don't know. I hope so. I'll miss her, otherwise."

  Ana eyes me speculatively.

  "What's in the other box?" I ask.

  "I'm not sure if this present is for you or me."

  "Really?"

  She hands me the second box. It's heavier and has a substantial rattle. Ana flicks her hair over her shoulder and shifts from foot to foot.

  "Why are you so nervous?"

  She seems excited and a little embarrassed, too. "You have me intrigued, Miss Steele. I have to say I'm enjoying your reaction. What have you been up to?" I remove the lid of the box and on top of some tissue is a small card.

  On your birthday

  Do rude things to me.

  Please.

  Your Ana x

  My eyes dart to hers.