"Are you gay, Mr. Grey?"
He inhales sharply, and I cringe, mortified. Crap. Why didn’t I employ some kind of filter before I read this straight out? How can I tell him I’m just reading the questions? Damn Kate and her curiosity!
"No Anastasia, I’m not." He raises his eyebrows, a cool gleam in his eyes. He does not look pleased.
"I apologize. It’s um… written here." It’s the first time he’s said my name. My heartbeat has accelerated, and my cheeks are heating up again.
I love when you become so close with someone that you can see parts of each other in one another and you begin to say the same things and steal lines from one another and have a similar sense of humor and can exchange an inside joke with just a glance you don’t even have to talk because you have such a strong connection with them and you can sit in comfortable silence but also talk for hours it’s really hard to find that kind of compatibility
I won’t beg someone to love me. I learned long ago that there is no use in hopeless pleas of trying to make someone stay. I am too good to chase someone who does not know my worth and I am too wild to keep waiting for someone who doesn’t acknowledge my value. I want to be loved unconditionally. I shouldn’t have to fight so hard for it. I do not have the time to prove to someone that I am worth it. I shouldn’t have to prove any of that; I am worth more than that.