That next week, Christian and Anastasia make plans for her dance lesson, which doesn't start out the smoothest, but by the end of the lesson, she only steps on his feet a couple times through the song.

"You're getting better, but you better warn him to wear sturdy shoes." Christian teases, handing her a bottle of water.

"I can't warn him of anything, you butt. It's meant to be a surprise."

"Speaking of that, how did you manage to disappear for a whole evening without him wondering where you'd gone." Christian is curious of what lie she had spun.

Anastasia frowns at the idea. She knows it is for a surprise, but she hates lying. "I told him I was having a girls night. Hopefully, he won't ask the others cause I hadn't told them either."

"Oh, so it's a treat for everyone involved!" He chuckles at the realization. "I can't wait to see everyone's faces."

Anastasia takes the carrot she's begun peeling for their dinner and points it at him. "You make it sound like I'm sort of wooly mammoth trying to walk in heels. I am not that bad." She emphasizes each word of her last sentence with a jab of the carrot at him. "Now, I brought dinner to cook as a thank you, that doesnt mean I should have to prep it myself. Roll up those expensive sleeves and get to choppin!" She hands him the carrot before he can object.

"Yes, ma'am!" He salutes, heading toward the cutting board. He hasn't done this type of thing himself before, his housekeeper being the cook, but he'd seen many people do it so he decides it can't be that hard.

Anastasia watches in horror, wincing as he tries to cut up the carrot.

"You're going to chop off your finger!" She reaches over to him and takes his hands in hers, showing him how to cut it. "See, keep these perfectly manicured fingers bent inward or those pretty hands won't be very pretty anymore."

She continues to help him chop and he looks over his shoulder at her.

"What?" She asks, not taking her eyes off of the knife.

"This is kind of emasculating."

"Emasculating?" She laughs.

"Yes! Emasculating."

She releases him, still giggling. "Why? I'm just teaching you something you didn't know."

"Because... I should be guiding your hands!"

"What kind of man logic is that? I already know how to cook. You don't."

He sets the knife down. "Then I'll guide your hands on something you don't know!"

She bites her lip, doing her best to keep from laughing, entertained by his frustrated state. "I'm sorry I emasculated you and deflated your huge ego. Yes, please teach me something I don't know. I'm terrible at pool. How about that?"

Christian pretends to think on it, ignoring the sarcasm dripping off her statement. "It's a deal. After dinner."

"You're incorrigible." She rolls her eyes, ignoring the panty dropper smile he tries to give her, and busies herself with dinner. He's trying to use his good looks to his advantage and she refuses to let it work on her. There are plenty other women out there to use it, Grey. Can it.

Soon dinner is done and cleaned up and Anastasia finds herself being pulled into the billiards room by her friend. She is surprised he actually meant what he said. Since it is getting late, she figured she would be able to take a raincheck, but has no luck.

Christian chalks a pool stick and hands it to her. "Watch how I break and then it's your turn."

"I don't want to break." She comments, raising an eyebrow.

"You don't have to break, I'll break." He answers preoccupied with getting set up.

"So, what part are you breaking?" She bites her lower lip to keep a straight face.

"I...Anastasia!" He finally realizes she is teasing and she breaks out in a giggle. At this he stands up straight and, with a hand on his hip, waits for her to finish laughing at her own joke. "If you are in the mood for laughing I have other ways of doing that that don't include me being made fun of."

A visual of him holding her down and tickling her mercilessly pops into her head and she hurries to cover her mouth. She apologizes. "Okay, I'm sorry, I'm done. No tickle torture. You can break the balls now. I'll watch."

Christian grins at her. "Good girl." He bends over the table, getting himself level with the field, and Anastasia couldn't help but notice how beautifully his back and shoulder muscles flex beneath the tailored button-up of his.

Anastasia admonishes herself for ogling her friend like a school girl. Focus. As her eyes slide down his strong arms to his hands, a small smile lights up her face, affection spreading in her chest. His hands are her favorite body part of anyone she's ever met. They are just so perfect in every way. Big and strong, yet soft and manicured. His knuckles have a few scars from when he would fight other kids, some of those scars were even for her. His hands always seemed to do the talking for him when he was angry or upset and those hands kept her safe. Sometimes the threat of being his friend kept boys away, but she didn't mind. She felt protected. She loved those hands.

The sound of the balls breaking clears her of her thoughts and she startles a bit.

"Your turn." Christian mentions, motioning her over with his index finger. He looks over table, deciding which is easier. "You'll be stripes."

She wrinkles her nose. "But I like solids."

"What?" He gives her an incredulous look. "This isn't Sachs Fifth! You've never played before. The stripes will be easier."

"I want solids." She shrugs, unsure why stripes feel wrong.

Giving up, he agrees. "Solids it is, you little lunatic. Why do I always let you get your way?"

She gives him a sweet smile. "I don't know, but I don't mind."

Leaning over like he did, she pretends she knows what she's doing, but she can't even remember how he held the stick.

"Did you even watch me?" It's not a joint!

"Yes! I watched you!"

Christian's eyebrow raises. "What part of me did you watch?"

"Christian!" Her head falls back in a laugh. "It just feels awkward! Maybe if I take my heels off.." She slides out of her heels, giving her brain a few more seconds to figure out how to hold the pool stick, but the time doesn't help.

"Okay, time's up. I'm coming to help." As he comes up behind her and leans over her, taking her hands, she looks over her shoulder at him. "What's wrong?" Suddenly he worries he's too close.

"I feel emasculated." She says dryly making him grin.

"Good." He says close to her ear giving her goosebumps. He knows shes a strong, independent woman, but she's all woman. Nothing but beautiful femininity. Sexy femininity. Hell, he doubts she even realize just how fucking sexy she is.

Getting her hands in the positions they should be in, he gently leans his abdomen against the small of her back a little more, urging her lower. "You can't judge from above. You've got to be level with it."

"Like this?" She leans lower, her backside coming in contact with his groin for a second before he re-situates himself. He grits his teeth, praying that she didn't notice anything protruding.

"Yep." He says between gritted teeth, trying with all his might not to spill his feelings to her right there. "You're perfect." He adds relaxing his jaw. You don't even realize...

"Now pull it back, keep it square and..." She hits the ball. "Almost."

As they stand she turns to him. "Almost? I got a ball in!"

"But it was stripes."

"It was? Stripes?" She asks, disappointed with her previous decision.

Laughing, he nods. "Stripes. My turn!"

She stands back, allowing him his turn, her head spinning. Her body feels as if it's on red alert all of a sudden, her skin feels more sensitive than it's ever been. Her neurosystem is in overdrive and she can only imagine the neuroreceptors in her brain overheating. Get your shit together, Ana. She's being ridiculous.

Mentally shaking it off, she forces herself to concentrate on the game. "Hey! How long are you going to keep going there guy?" She's noticed that over half of his balls are gone.

He shrugs, a shit eating grin on his face. "What can I say, I'm good at it. Now, if you'd excuse me..." He waves her to the side so he can continue winning.

Anastasia moves, but waits for the perfect moment. As soon has the stick comes back and starts to shoot forward, she nudges him in his backside with her poolstick, causing him to miss. He looks back at her scowling.

"Oops! My turn!"

He watches as she leans against the table, trying her best to remember what he taught her. From this angle across from her he can see her cleavage peaking out of her dress and a bit of the white lacy number holding her in place. But do the panties match? A vision of her laying open on the table for him flashes in his mind and he can't keep keep himself from showing now. If she would happen to look up his attraction to her would be eye level. Luckily, she's too engrossed in the game.

"I got one!" She stands and does a little dance.

"But you scratched."

She looks down at the table confused. "I did? Where?"

He snorts. "No, you scratched. The cueball went in, too." Reaching in the pocket, he pulls out the white ball, causing her to pout.

"Don't do that now." He warns, too charged. She's got his ring on her finger. Best to ignore the sexual tension.

"Why not?"

"Cause you never know what might come up and bite it."

Anastasia mocks surprise and begins to look around. "You've got some crocodiles hidden in here somewhere?"

"Yep. You never know when they might sneak up and..." He makes a biting sound with his teeth causing her to laugh.

"Okay, Crocodile Dundee. I'll remember that next time. So, I scratch; you're turn."

Nodding, he agrees. "That's right. Now take that little ass and go stand over there away from me... so I don't end up with a pool stick shoved up my ass."

She giggles and finds a chair in the corner to get comfortable while he takes his turn.

"Christian, you aren't teaching me anything if you win the game in two turns." There are only two of his balls plus the 8-ball left. Giving up, she hangs her poolstick while he finishes up.

He gives her a dazzling smile when she turns around. Well, then I guess I better find something else to teach you then."

"Oh? What is Mister Know-it-all going to teach me now?" She stands, trying to look defiant and intimidating. It only entertains him more.

Keeping eye contact with her, he slowly makes his way over to her leaning in. "Anything you want. You'd be surprised at the things I know how to do." Their noses barely graze each other, both trying to keep their stand, the pressure building.

There is a noise and they both jerk back, startled by the suddenness of it. Realizing it's her phone, she hurries to answer it quickly.

"José! Hey! No, I was just leaving. I didn't realize how late it is. I'll call you when I get home... okay, bye." Anastasia busies getting her shoes on and shoves her phone back into her pocket. "I'm sorry, I've got to run."

Christian tries to keep his face neutral but he can feel the frown on it. So close. "I heard."

"Walk me out?" She offers with a smile.

He nods. "Yes, of course." Always such a gentleman with her. Though he doesn't want to be.