Пятьдесят оттенков серого
Chapter 2
WhilecruisingtowardInterstate5,mymindcontinuestowander.I’mtrulyperplexedastowhatmakessomeonesodriventosucceed.Someofhisanswersweresocryptic—asifhehadahiddenagenda.AndKate’squestions—ugh!Theadoptionandaskinghimifhewasgay!Ishudder.Ican’tbelieveIsaidthat.Ground,swallowmeupnow!EverytimeIthinkofthatquestioninthefuture,Iwillcringewithembarrassment.DamnKatherineKavanagh!
Icheckthespeedometer.I’mdrivingmorecautiouslythanIwouldonanyotheroccasion.AndIknowit’sthememoryofthosepenetratinggrayeyesgazingatmeandasternvoicetellingmetodrivecarefully.Shakingmyhead,IrealizethatGrey’smorelikeamantwicehisage.
Forgetit,Ana,Iscoldmyself.Idecidethat,allinall,it’sbeenaveryinterestingexperience,butIshouldn’tdwellonit.Putitbehindyou.Ineverhavetoseehimagain.I’mimmediatelycheeredbythethought.Iswitchonthestereoandturnthevolumeuploud,sitbackandlistentothumpingindierockmusicasIpressdownontheaccelerator.AsIhitInterstate5,IrealizeIcandriveasfastasIwant.
WELIVEINAsmallcommunityofduplexapartmentsclosetotheVancouvercampusofWSU.I’mlucky—Kate’sparentsboughttheplaceforher,andIpaypeanutsforrent.It’sbeenhomeforfouryearsnow.AsIpullupoutside,IknowKateisgoingtowantablow-by-blowaccount,andsheistenacious.Well,atleastshehasthedigitalrecorder.IhopeIwon’thavetoelaboratemuchbeyondwhatwassaidduringtheinterview.
“Ana!You’reback.
