五十度灰(Fifty Shades of Grey)英文版 Part II 9

“goodday,mac,andthankyou.”

hegrinsatmeandwinks,makingmeflush.christian

takesmyhand,andwewalkupthedocktothemarina’s

promenade.

“where’smacfrom?”iask,curiousabouthisaccent.

“ireland...northernireland,”christiancorrects

himself.

“isheyourfriend?”

“mac?heworksforme.helpedbuildthegrace.”

“doyouha一vemanyfriends?”

hefrowns.“notreally.doingwhatido...idon’t

cultivatefriendships.there’sonly—”hestops,hisfrown

deepening,andiknowhewasgoingtomentionmrs.

robinson.

“hungry?”heasks,tryingtochangethesubject.

inod.actually,i’mfamished.

“we’lleatwhereileftthecar.come.”

nexttosp’sisasmallitalianbistrocalledbee’s.it

remindsmeoftheplaceinportland—afewtablesand

booths,thedécorverycrispandmodernwithalarge

blackandwhitephotographofaturn-of-the-centuryfiesta

servingasamural.

christianandiareseatedinabooth,poringoverthe

menuandsippingadeliciouslightfrascati.wheniglance

upfromthemenu,ha一vingmademychoice,christianis

gazingatmespeculatively.

“what?”iask.

“youlooklovely,anastasia.theoutdoorsagreeswith

you.”

iflush.“ifeelratherwind-burnedtotellthetruth.buti

hadalovelyafternoon.aperfectafternoon.thankyou.”

hesmiles,hiseyeswarm.“mypleasure,”hemurmurs.

“caniaskyousomething?”idecideonafact-finding

mission.

“anything,anastasia.youknowthat.”hecockshis

headtooneside,lookingdelicious.

“youdon’tseemtoha一vemanyfriends.whyisthat?”

heshrugsandfrowns.“itoldyou,idon’treallyha一ve

time.iha一vebusinessassociates—thoughthat’svery

differentfromfriendships,isuppose.iha一vemyfamilyand

that’sit.apartfromelena.”

iignorethementionofthebitch-troll.“nomalefriends

yourownagethatyoucangooutwithandletoffsteam?”

“youknowhowiliketoletoffsteam,anastasia.”

christian’smouthtwists.“andi’vebeenworking,building

upthebusiness.”helookspuzzled.“that’sallido—

exceptsailandflyoccasionally.”

“notevenincollege?”

“notreally.”

“justelena,then?”

henods,hisexpressionwary.

“mustbelonely.”

hislipscurlinasmallwistfulsmile.“whatwouldyou

liketoeat?”heasks,changingthesubjectagain.

“i’mgoingfortherisotto.”

“goodchoice.”christiansummonsthewaiter,putting

anendtothatconversation.

afterwe’veplacedourorder,ishiftuncomfortablyin

myseat,staringatmyknottedfingers.ifhe’sinatalking

mood,ineedtotakeadvantage.

iha一vetotalktohimabouthisexpectations,abouthis,

um...needs.

“anastasia,what’swrong?tellme.”

iglanceupintohisconcernedface.

“tellme,”hesaysmoreforcefully,andhisconcern

evolvesintowhat?fear?anger?

itakeadeepbreath.“i’mjustworriedthatthisisn’t

enoughforyou.youknow,toletoffsteam.”

hisjawtensesandhiseyesharden.“ha一veigivenyou

anyindicationthatthisisn’tenough?”

“no.”

“thenwhydoyouthinkthat?”

“iknowwhatyou’relike.whatyou...um...need,”

istutter.

hecloseshiseyesandrubshisforeheadwithlong

fingers.

“whatdoiha一vetodo?”hisvoiceisominouslysoftas

ifhe’sangry,andmyheartsinks.

“no,youmisunderstand—youha一vebeenamazing,and

iknowit’sjustbeenafewdays,butihopei’mnot

forcingyoutobesomeoneyou’renot.”

“i’mstillme,anastasia—inallmyfiftyshadesof

fuckedupness.yes,iha一vetofighttheurgetobe

controlling...butthat’smynature,howi’vedealtwith

mylife.yes,iexpectyoutobeha一veacertainway,and

whenyoudon’tit’sbothchallengingandrefreshing.we

stilldowhatiliketodo.youletmespankyouafteryour

outrageousbidyesterday.”hesmilesfondlyatthe

memory.“ienjoypunishingyou.idon’tthinktheurgewill

evergo...buti’mtrying,andit’snotashardasithought

itwouldbe.”

isquirmandflush,rememberingourillicittrystinhis

childhoodbedroom.“ididn’tmindthat,”iwhisper,smiling

shyly.

“iknow.”hislipscurlinareluctantsmile.“neitherdid

i.butletmetellyou,anastasia,thisisallnewtomeand

theselastfewdaysha一vebeenthebestinmylife.idon’t

wanttochangeanything.”

oh!

“they’vebeenthebestinmylife,too,without

exception,”imurmurandhissmilebroadens.myinner

goddessnodsfranticallyinagreement—andnudgesme

hard.okay,okay.

“soyoudon’twanttotakemeintoyourplayroom?”

heswallowsandpales,alltraceofhumorgone.“no,i

don’t.”

“whynot?”iwhisper.thisisnottheansweri

expected.

andyes,thereitis,thatlittlepinchofdisappointment.

myinnergoddessstompsoffpouting,herarmscrossed

likeanangrytoddler.

“thelasttimewewereinthereyouleftme,”hesays

quietly.“iwillshyawayfromanythingthatcouldmakeyou

lea一vemeagain.iwasdevastatedwhenyouleft.i

explainedthat.ineverwanttofeellikethatagain.i’vetold

youhowifeelaboutyou.”hisgrayeyesarewideand

intensewithhissincerity.

“butithardlyseemsfair.itcan’tbeveryrelaxingfor

you—tobeconstantlyconcernedabouthowifeel.

you’vemadeallthesechangesforme,andi...ithinki

shouldreciprocateinsomeway.idon’tknow—

maybe...try...somerole-playinggames,”istutter,my

faceascrimsonasthewallsoftheplayroom.

whyisthissohardtotalkabout?iha一vedoneall

mannerofkinkyfuckerywiththisman,thingsihadn’teven

heardofafewweeksago,thingsthatiwouldneverha一ve

thoughtpossible,yetthehardestofallistalkingtohim.

“ana,youdoreciprocate,morethanyouknow.

please,pleasedon’tfeellikethis.”

goneiscarefreechristian.hiseyesarewidernow

withalarm,andit’sgut-wrenching.“baby,it’sonlybeen

oneweekend,”hecontinues.“giveussometime.i

thoughtagreatdealaboutuslastweekwhenyouleft.we

needtime.youneedtotrustme,andiyou.maybeintime

wecanindulge,butilikehowyouarenow.ilikeseeing

youthishappy,thisrelaxedandcarefree,knowingthati

hadsomethingtodowithit.iha一venever—”hestopsand

runshishandthroughhishair.“weha一vetowalkbefore

wecanrun.”suddenlyhesmirks.

“what’ssofunny?”

“flynn.hesaysthatallthetime.ineverthoughti’dbe

quotinghim.”

“aflynnism.”

christianlaughs.“exactly.”

thewaiterarriveswithourstartersandbruschetta,and

ourconversationchangestackaschristianrelaxes.

butwhentheunfeasiblylargeplatesareplacedbefore

us,ican’thelpthinkhowiha一vethoughtofchristiantoday

—relaxed,happyandcarefree.atleasthe’slaughingnow,

ateaseagain.

ibreatheaninwardsighofreliefashestartsquizzing

meaboutplacesi’vebeen.thisisashortdiscussion,since

iha一veneverbeenanywhereexceptthecontinentalus.

christian,ontheotherhand,hastra一veledtheworld.we

slipintoaneasier,happierconversation,talkingaboutall

theplaceshe’svisited.

afterourtastyandfillingmeal,christiandrivesbackto

escala,evacassidy’sgentlesweetvoicesingingoverthe

speakers.itallowsmeapeacefulinterludeinwhichto

think.iha一vehadamind-blowingday.dr.greene,our

shower,christian’sadmission,makingloveatthehotel

andontheboat,buyingthecar.evenchristianhimselfhas

beensodifferent.it’sasifhe’slettinggoofsomethingor

rediscoveringsomething—idon’tknow.

whoknewhecouldbesosweet?didhe?

wheniglanceathim,he,too,lookslostinthought.it

strikesmethenthatheneverreallyhadanadolescence—a

normaloneanyway.ishakemyhead.

myminddriftsbacktotheballanddancingwithdr.

flynnandchristian’sfearthatflynnhadtoldmeallabout

him.christianisstillhidingsomethingfromme.howcan

wemoveonifhefeelsthatway?

hethinksimightlea一veifiknowhim.hethinksthati

mightlea一veifhe’shimself.oh,thismanisso

complicated.

aswegetclosertohishome,hestartsradiating

tensionuntilitbecomespalpable.aswedrive,hescans

thesidewalksandsidealleys,hiseyesdartingeverywhere,

andiknowhe’slookingforleila.istartlooking,too.

everyyoungbrunetteisasuspect,butwedon’tseeher.

whenhepullsintothegarage,hismouthissetina

tense,grimline.iwonderwhywe’vecomebackhereif

he’sgoingtobesowaryanduptight.sawyerisinthe

garage,patrolling.thedefiledaudiisgone.hecomesto

openmydooraschristianpullsinbesidethesuv.

“hello,sawyer,”imurmurmygreeting.

“misssteele.”henods.“mr.grey.”

“nosign?”christianasks.

“no,sir.”

christiannods,graspsmyhand,andheadsforthe

elevator.iknowhisbrainisworkingovertime—he’s

distracted.oncewe’reinsideheturnstome.

“youarenotallowedoutofherealone.you

understand?”hesnaps.

“okay.”jeez—keepyourhairon.buthisattitude

makesmesmile.iwanttohugmyself—nowthisman,all

domineeringandshortwithmeiknow.imarvelthati

wouldha一vefounditsothreateningonlyaweekorsoago

whenhespoketomethisway.butnow,iunderstandhim

somuchbetter.thisishiscopingmechanism.he’s

stressedaboutleila,helovesme,andhewantstoprotect

me.

“what’ssofunny?”hemurmurs,ahintofamusement

inhisexpression.

“youare.”

“me?misssteele?whyamifunny?”hepouts.

christianpoutingis...hot.

“don’tpout.”

“why?”he’sevenmoreamused.

“becauseithasthesameeffectonmeasiha一veonyou

whenidothis.”ibitemylipdeliberately.

heraiseshiseyebrows,surprisedandpleasedatthe

sametime.“really?”hepoutsagainandleansdownto

givemeaswiftchastekiss.

iraisemylipstomeethis,andinthenanosecondwhen

ourlipstouch,thenatureofthekisschanges—wildfire

spreadingthroughmyveinsfromthisintimatepointof

contact,drivingmetohim.

suddenly,myfingersarecurlinginhishairashegrabs

meandpushesmeagainsttheelevatorwall,hishands

framingmyface,holdingmetohislipsasourtongues

thrashagainsteachother.andidon’tknowifit’sthe

confinesoftheelevatormakingeverythingmuchmorereal,

butifeelhisneed,hisanxiety,hispassion.

holyshit.iwanthim,here,now.

theelevatorpingstoahalt,thedoorsslideopen,and

christiandragshisfacefrommine,hishipsstillpinningme

tothewall,hiserectiondiggingintome.

“whoa,”hemurmurspanting.

“whoa,”imirrorhim,draggingawelcomebreathinto

mylungs.

hegazesatme,eyesblazing.“whatyoudotome,

ana.”hetracesmylowerlipwithhisthumb.

outofthecornerofmyeye,taylorstepsbackward

sohe’snolongerinmylineofsight.ireachupandkiss

christianatthecornerofhisbeautifullysculpturedmouth.

“whatyoudotome,christian.”

hestepsbackandtakesmyhand,hiseyesdarker

now,hooded.“come,”heorders.

taylorisstillinthefoyer,waitingdiscreetlyforus.

“goodevening,taylor,”christiansayscordially.

“mr.grey,misssteele.”

“iwasmrs.tayloryesterday.”igrinattaylor,who

flushes.

“thathasaniceringtoit,misssteele,”taylorsays

matter-of-factly.

“ithoughtso,too.”

christiantightenshisholdonmyhand,scowling.“if

youtwoha一vequitefinished,i’dlikeadebrief.”heglares

attaylor,whonowlooksuncomfortable,andicringe

inwardly.iha一veoversteppedthemark.

“sorry,”imouthattaylor,whoshrugsandsmiles

kindlybeforeiturntofollowchristian.

“i’llbewithyoushortly.ijustwantawordwithmiss

steele,”christiansaystotaylor,andiknowi’min

trouble.

christianleadsmeintohisbedroomandclosesthe

door.

“don’tflirtwiththestaff,anastasia,”hescolds.

iopenmymouthtodefendmyself—thencloseitagain,

thenopenit.“iwasn’tflirting.iwasbeingfriendly—there

isadifference.”

“don’tbefriendlywiththestafforflirtwiththem.i

don’tlikeit.”

oh.good-bye,carefreechristian.“i’msorry,”i

mutterandstaredownatmyfingers.hehasn’tmademe

feellikeachildallday.reachingdownhecupsmychin,

pullingmyheaduptomeethiseyes.

“youknowhowjealousiam,”hewhispers.

“youha一venoreasontobejealous,christian.you

ownmebodyandsoul.”

heblinksasifhe’sfindingthisfacthardtoprocess.he

leansdownandkissesmequickly,butwithnoneofthe

passionweexperiencedamomentagointheelevator.

“iwon’tbelong.makeyourselfathome,”hesays

sulkilyandturns,lea一vingmestandinginhisbedroom,

dazedandconfused.

whyonearthwouldhebejealousoftaylor?i

shakemyheadindisbelief.

glancingatthealarmclock,inoticeit’sjustaftereight.

idecidetogetmyclothesreadyforworktomorrow.i

headupstairstomyroomandopenthewalk-incloset.it’s

empty.alltheclothesha一vegone.ohno!christianhas

takenmeatmywordanddisposedoftheclothes.shit.

mysubconsciousglaresatme.well,thatwillbeyou

andyourbigmouth.

whydidhetakemeatmyword?mymother’sadvice

comesbacktohauntme,“menaresoliteral,darling.”i

pout,staringattheemptyspace.thereweresomelovely

clothes,too,likethesilverdressiworetotheball.

iwanderdisconsolatelyintothebedroom,waita

moment—whatisgoingon?theipadisgone.where’s

mymac?ohno.myfirstuncharitablethoughtisthatleila

mayha一vestolenthem.

iflybackdownstairsandbackintochristian’s

bedroom.onthebedsidetablearemymac,myipad,and

mysatchel.it’sallhere.

iopenthewalk-inclosetdoor.myclothesarehere—

allofthem—sharingspacewithchristian’sclothes.when

didthishappen?whydoesheneverwarnmebeforehe

doesthingslikethis?

iturn,andhe’sstandinginthedoorway.

“oh,theymanagedthemove,”hemutters,distracted.

“what’swrong?”iask.hisfaceisgrim.

“taylorthinksleilawasgettinginthroughthe

emergencystairwell.shemustha一vehadakey.allthe

locksha一vebeenchangednow.taylor’steamhasdonea

sweepofeveryroomintheapartment.she’snothere.”

hestopsandrunsahandthroughhishair.“iwishiknew

whereshewas.she’sevadingallourattemptstofindher

whensheneedshelp.”hefrowns,andmyearlierpique

vanishes.iputmyarmsaroundhim.foldingmeintohis

embrace,hekissesmyhair.

“whatwillyoudowhenyoufindher?”iask.

“dr.flynnhasaplace.”

“whataboutherhusband?”

“he’swashedhishandsofher.”christian’stoneis

bitter.“herfamilyisinconnecticut.ithinkshe’svery

muchonherownoutthere.”

“that’ssad.”

“areyouokaywithallyourstuffbeinghere?iwant

youtosharemyroom,”hemurmurs.

whoa,quickchangeofdirection.

“yes.”

“iwantyousleepingwithme.idon’tha一venightmares

whenyou’rewithme.”

“youha一venightmares?”

“yes.”

itightenmyholdaroundhim.holycow.more

baggage.myheartcontractsforthisman.

“iwasjustgettingmyclothesreadyforwork

tomorrow,”imutter.

“work!”christianexclaimsasifit’sadirtyword,and

hereleasesme,glaring.

“yes,work,”ireply,confusedbyhisreaction.

hestaresatmewithcompleteincomprehension.“but

leila—she’soutthere,”hepauses.“idon’twantyouto

gotowork.”

what?“that’sridiculous,christian.iha一vetogoto

work.”

“no,youdon’t.”

“iha一veanewjob,whichienjoy.ofcourseiha一veto

gotowork.”whatdoeshemean?

“no,youdon’t,”herepeats,emphatically.

“doyouthinkiamgoingtostayheretwiddlingmy

thumbswhileyou’reoffbeingmasteroftheuniverse?”

“frankly...yes.”

oh,fifty,fifty,fifty...givemestrength.

“christian,ineedtogotowork.”

“no,youdon’t.”

“yes.i.do.”isayitslowlyasifhe’sachild.

hescowlsatme.“it’snotsafe.”

“christian...ineedtoworkforaliving,andi’llbe

fine.”

“no,youdon’tneedtoworkforaliving—andhowdo

youknowyou’llbefine?”he’salmostshouting.

whatdoeshemean?he’sgoingtosupportme?oh,

thisisbeyondridiculous—i’veknownhimforwhat—five

weeks?

he’sangrynow,hisgrayeyesstormyandflashing,but

idon’tgiveashit.

“forhea一ven’ssake,christian,leilawasstandingat

theendofyourbed,andshedidn’tharmme,andyes,i

doneedtowork.idon’twanttobebeholdentoyou.i

ha一vemystudentloanstopay.”

hismouthpressesintoagrimline,asiplacemyhands

onmyhips.iamnotbudgingonthis.whothefuckdoes

hethinkheis?

“idon’twantyougoingtowork.”

“it’snotuptoyou,christian.thisisnotyourdecision

tomake.”

herunshishandthroughhishairashestaresatme.

seconds,minutestickbyasweglareateachother.

“sawyerwillcomewithyou.”

“christian,that’snotnecessary.you’rebeing

irrational.”

“irrational?”hegrowls.“eitherhecomeswithyou,ori

willbereallyirrationalandkeepyouhere.”

hewouldn’t,wouldhe?“how,exactly?”

“oh,i’dfindaway,anastasia.don’tpushme.”

“okay!”iconcede,holdingupbothmyhands,

placatinghim.holyfuck—fiftyisbackwitha

vengeance.

westand,scowlingateachother.

“okay—sawyercancomewithmeifitmakesyoufeel

better.”iconcederollingmyeyes.christiannarrowshis

andtakesamenacingstepinmydirection.iimmediately

stepback.hestopsandtakesadeepbreath,closeshis

eyes,andrunsbothhishandsthroughhishair.ohno.fifty

iswellandtrulywoundup.

“shalligiveyouatour?”

atour?areyoukiddingme?“okay,”imutter

warily.anotherchangeoftack—mr.mercurialisbackin

town.heholdsouthishandandwhenitakeit,he

squeezesminesoftly.

“ididn’tmeantofrightenyou.”

“youdidn’t.iwasjustgettingreadytorun,”iquip.

“run?”christianeyeswiden.

“i’mjoking!”ohjeez.

heleadsmeoutofthecloset,anditakeamomentto

calmdown.adrenalineisstillcoursingthroughmybody.

afightwithfiftyisnottobeundertakenlightly.

hegivesmeatouroftheapartment,showingmethe

variousrooms.alongwiththeplayroomandthreespare

bedroomsupstairs,i’mintriguedtofindthattaylorand

mrs.jonesha一veawingtothemselves—akitchen,

spaciouslivingarea,andabedroomeach.mrs.joneshas

notyetreturnedfromvisitinghersisterwholivesin

portland.

downstairs,theroomthatcatchesmyeyeisopposite

hisstudy—atvroomwithatoo-largeplasmascreenand

assortedgamesconsoles.it’scozy.

“soyoudoha一veanxbox?”ismirk.

“yes,buti’mcrapatit.elliotalwaysbeatsme.that

wasfunny,whenyouthoughtimeantthisroomwasmy

playroom.”hegrinsdownatmehissnit-fitforgotten.

thankhea一venshe’srecoveredhisgoodmood.

“i’mgladyoufindmeamusing,mr.grey,”irespond

haughtily.

“thatyouare,misssteele—whenyou’renotbeing

exasperating,ofcourse.”

“i’musuallyexasperatingwhenyou’rebeing

unreasonable.”

“me?unreasonable?”

“yes,mr.grey.unreasonablecouldbeyourmiddle

name.”

“idon’tha一veamiddlename.”

“unreasonablewouldsuitthen.”

“ithinkthat’samatterofopinion,misssteele.”

“iwouldbeinterestedindr.flynn’sprofessional

opinion.”

christiansmirks.

“ithoughttrevelyanwasyourmiddlename.”

“no.surname.”

“butyoudon’tuseit.”

“it’stoolong.come,”hecommands.ifollowhimout

ofthetvroomthroughthegreatroomtothemain

corridorpasttheutilityroomandanimpressivewinecellar

andintotaylor’sownlarge,well-equippedoffice.taylor

standswhenweenter.there’sroominhereforameeting

tablethatseatssix.aboveonedeskisabankofmonitors.

ihadnoideatheapartmenthadcctv.itappearsto

monitorthebalcony,stairwell,serviceelevator,andfoyer.

“hi,taylor.i’mjustgivinganastasiaatour.”

taylornodsbutdoesn’tsmile.iwonderifhe’sbeen

toldoff,too,andwhyishestillworking?whenismileat

him,henodspolitely.christiangrabsmyhandoncemore

andleadsmetothelibrary.

“and,ofcourse,you’vebeeninhere.”christianopens

thedoor.ispythegreenbaizeofthebilliardtable.

“shallweplay?”iask.christiansmiles,surprised.

“okay.ha一veyouplayedbefore?”

“afewtimes,”ilie,andhenarrowshiseyes,cocking

hisheadtooneside.

“you’reahopelessliar,anastasia.eitheryou’venever

playedbeforeor—”

ilickmylips.“frightenedofalittlecompetition?”

“frightenedofalittlegirllikeyou?”christianscoffs

good-naturedly.

“awager,mr.grey.”

“you’rethatconfident,misssteele?”hesmirks,

amusedandincredulousatonce.“whatwouldyouliketo

wager?”

“ifiwin,you’lltakemebackintotheplayroom.”

hegazesatmeasifhecan’tquitecomprehendwhat

i’vesaid.“andifiwin?”heasksafterseveralshellshocked

beats.

“thenit’syourchoice.”

hismouthtwistsashecontemplateshisanswer.

“okay,deal.”hesmirks.“doyouwanttoplaypool,

englishsnookerorcarombilliards?”

“pool,please.idon’tknowtheothers.”

fromacupboardbeneathoneofthebookshelves,

christiantakesoutalargeleathercase.insidethepool

ballsarenestedinvelvet.quicklyandefficiently,heracks

theballsonthebaize.idon’tthinki’veeverplayedpool

onsuchalargetablebefore.christianhandsmeacueand

somechalk.

“wouldyouliketobreak?”hefeignspoliteness.he’s

enjoyinghimself—hethinkshe’sgoingtowin.

“okay.”ichalktheendofmycue,andblowthe

excesschalkoff—staringupatchristianthroughmy

lashes.hiseyesdarkenasido.