d time in less than half an hour my world
stops.
Holy fuck. I stare at the deeply fucked-up man I love.
I can’t believe what he’s just said.
Marriage? He’s proposing marriage? Is he kidding? I
can’t help it—a small, nervous, disbelieving giggle erupts
from deep inside. I bite my lip to stop it from turning into
full-scale hysterical laughter and fail miserably. I lie back
full-scale hysterical laughter and fail miserably. I lie back
flat on the floor and surrender myself to the laughter,
laughing as I’ve never laughed before, huge healing
cathartic howls of laughter.
And for a moment I am on my own, looking down at
this absurd situation, a giggling, overwhelmed girl beside a
beautiful fucked-up boy. I drape my arm across my eyes,
as my laughter turns to scalding tears. No, no . . . this is
too much.
As the hysteria subsides, Christian gently lifts my arm
off my face. I turn and gaze up at him.
He’s leaning over me. His mouth is twisted with wry
amusement, but his eyes are a burning gray, maybe
wounded. Oh no.
He gently wipes away a stray tear with the back of his
knuckles. “You find my proposal amusing, Miss Steele?”
Oh, Fifty! Reaching up, I caress his cheek tenderly,
enjoying the feel of the stubble beneath my fingers. Lord, I
love this man.
“Mr. Grey . . . Christian. Your sense of timing is
“Mr. Grey . . . Christian. Your sense of timing is
without doub一t . . .” I gaze up at him as words fail me.
He smirks at me, but the crinkling around his eyes
shows me that he’s hurt. It’s sobering.
“You’re cutting me to the quick here, Ana. Will you
marry me?”
I sit up and lean over him, placing my hands on his
knees. I stare into his lovely face. “Christian, I’ve met your
psycho ex with a gun, been thrown out of my apartment,
had you go thermonuclear Fifty on me—”
He opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up my hand.
He obediently shuts his mouth.
“You’ve just revealed some, quite frankly, shocking
information about yourself, and now you’ve asked me to
marry you.”
He moves his
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