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BirdsandStars

—Answer me or I'll think you have a concussion.

I'm getting off my cloud and going back to planet Earth. On planet Earth, at least the one I live on, there are no men like him, or they should not exist. And those who do exist, I know perfectly well that they don't mix with girls like me. Except for a one-night stand.

I've thought about relationships again. What's wrong with me?

—Hummm...I'm fine. —I'm telling him while I'm rubbing my head again.

I let go of his arm and sit back down on the bar stool, quickly getting rid of his other hand's grip on my waist. His hand was burning against my skin over the clothes I wear.

Christian sits down next to me one more time. And I can't help it, I turn my face around and look at him again. This time, though, I grabbed from the counter. His eyes, a mixture of blue and grey, look at me very curiously as I see a smile appear on his face.

—Did you fall on your ass from the impression?—he asks, raising an eyebrow and now with a broader smile.

—Yes. —I answer honestly. I don't think lying to him will help me right now. —I didn't expect to see you... like this. —I tell him pointing at him, impressed by this revelation.

—Oh, you where expecting to see that homeless gy from this morning.

I keep quiet because it's as if he'd just read my thoughts and the last thing I wanted to do today was to offend him. Not when we don't even know each other. Not after he helped me after what happened to me last night.

—Don't worry. —he says to me with the same smile. — Even my mother has told me that every time we have dinner together. —he says to me with a shrug as he turns his attention to the food in front of us.

Christian starts to serve himself his food. And I just watch him as he starts to eat.

—Why the change? —I'm curious.

—It's about time, plus I'm starting a new job tomorrow and I want to make a good first impression. This is delicious. —he says, changing the subject as he looks at me briefly with a smile.

—Thank you. —I say as I stop looking at him and start serving my food.

I can barely eat. Not after my recent discovery. This has never happened to me before. No man has ever managed to make me lose my appetite. Perhaps it is that I have not lived with a man for a long time and his presence is beginning to affect me on a very deep level. Or maybe it's the lack of sex that's starting to affect me.

I'm about to think Kate's right.

—Are you done? —he asks, standing up with his empty plate in his hand.

I look at my half-eaten plate and decide that I can't keep eating with him sitting next to me. My stomach has been knotted up for no apparent reason.

—Yes, I don't have much of an appetite lately. —I say to him as he picks up everything.

—Don't try to help me, it's my turn. —he says, preventing me from helping him pick up his lunch.

I get up and go to my room without looking back. If I can avoid being in the same room with him, so much the better. I close the door and lie there while I stare at a shelf at one end of the room where there are several books that Kate doesn't seem to have picked up yet. I go there, read the titles and take one out to read. Well, rereading it, I read it several years ago already. I lie down on the bed and start reading, trying hard to forget about my now sexy and attractive roommate. I'm concentrating on the novel when someone knocks on my bedroom door. I look up from the book and find Christian standing by the door frame.

I thought I locked it?

—Do you need anything? —I ask him when I see that he doesn't come into the room.

—Do you think I can use your shower, mine seems to be having problems.

—Yes, you can use it. —I say to him as I look back at my novel as he walks to the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

It's the least I can do after all he's done for me. As soon as I feel the shower water running I stop reading and stare at the door.

What does someone who has lost so much weight look like?

I don't think I want to know. He had looked muscular last night when I touched him and a moment ago when I held his arms, but my sight and touch could have fooled me. Especially after the blow on the head, and in the ass. I know from reality show videos that I've seen, what the bodies of people who lose weight look like, and I decide to put the images out of my mind. So I focus once again on the novel.

At least until his voice interrupts me again.

—Thanks for letting me use the bathroom. I really needed that shower. —he says to me by making me look up from the novel.

—Yeah, there's no p...

But the words get stuck in my throat and refuse to leave my lips. I didn't expect this. I slowly slide my eyes over his body as I suddenly begin to feel very thirsty. His torso is gloriously naked as a few drops of water drench it. I continue to look down. Luckily he has a towel wrapped around his waist covering his body. He has another in one hand, but with it he dries his wet hair from the shower. And in the other hand, he brings the clothes he just took off.

But the least of the details is that he was naked from the waist up. I slip my tongue unconsciously over my lips as I continue to observe, now in detail, his body. His chest, wide and muscular, as well as his arms. His abdomen is perfectly defined and I can see how his abdominals are slightly tightened at my curious gaze. But that is not all. He has a tattoo of a wolf covering his right chest and part of his shoulder. The wolf is in detail and stares at me while he shows a wry smile. Behind the wolf lies a misty forest with leafless trees, a huge full moon and birds that fly away from the predator.

I avert my eyes from the disconcerting image of the black and white tattoo and slide my eyes back over his body. His body is not what I had imagined. It is not the deformed body of someone who has lost a lot of weight. He definitely doesn't have any deformities. Unless being so hot falls into that category. Or from the waist down. I stare at the towel knotted around his waist, while I squint, hoping that it will magically untie and I can check if he's as good at the bottom as he is at the top.

Since I started looking at him, my breathing has been speeding up rapidly. Understand me, the last man I saw half-naked in front of me was the last ex. And I have to admit that Christian is solid all over, nothing like the boyfriends I've had.

I close my eyes tightly and squeeze my thighs tightly while I hold back a groan that wants to escape my lips. The lack of sex is definitely affecting my mind already. Or is it his presence? I'm about to think Kate's right. I think if I don't have sex soon I'm going to go crazy.

—You've never seen a half-naked man before?

His question brings me back to reality and I look away from his narrow waist. I sit up in bed and look up at his face.

Oh, my God!

That messy, wet hair accompanied by a crooked smile and a raised eyebrow, is breathtaking. And for a moment I imagine that I am the one who is drying his hair and sliding my hands through it.

—Yes. I'm sorry, I was just getting into my novel. —I'm telling him by way of explanation for my recent loss of vocabulary.

—Thanks for the shower. —he says as he leaves my room drying his hair without looking back.

He says something else about tools and the shower, but I'm not paying attention anymore. I stare at him all the time. His back is wide, completely defined and still wet. His muscles moving as he walks to the door. And I look down a little more at his ass. Why doesn't the towel come undone and let me admire his ass?

After he leaves my room, it is impossible for me to continue to concentrate on the novel. As I read, I imagine that the main one is Christian and I think it would be very dangerous for me to think about Christian and sex in the same sentence. I throw the novel aside. Suddenly it's getting very hot in the room. Too hot.

Has Kate ever seen him like this? I imagine not, but it doesn't hurt to ask her and satisfy my curiosity. I run to my cell phone and dial her, she answers the second ring.

—How did you wake up?

—Much better after Christian's care last night.

—Yes, he tends to be very protective.

—I've noticed that. —I'll answer it while I remember the reason for the call. —Kate, have you ever seen Christian with his shirt off?—I ask with curious.

—No. I imagine he doesn't like to show off. Why do you ask?

Doesn't he like to show off? That's not what I thought. For a moment I don't know whether or not to tell her what just happened. But in the end I know I need to get it off my chest with someone.

—I just saw him with his shirt off. —I tell her while I still remember his impressive, muscular, wet body in front of me.

—What does someone who's lost so much weight look like? —she asks me exactly the same thing I thought when he walked into my bathroom.

—Fucking good. —I answer, still lost in the image of him half-naked in the middle of my room.

—What do you mean?

—That the guy's hot, Kate, nothing to do with an obese person's body. He's got muscles everywhere. —at least the visible parts, as far as I know.

—I don't believe it! And why in all that time I've lived with him I've never seen him shirtless and in only 48 hours you've touched him, he's carried you in his arms and you've seen him partially naked?

Apparently from his point of view, I was lucky. From my point of view, it wasn't like that.

—He had a problem with his shower and he took a shower in mine. —I'm telling her, without making a big deal out of it.

—And when did you see him with his shirt off?

—When he came out of the shower wet with the towel around his waist. —I tell her and cover my mouth regretting what I just told her.

—For God's sake! I need more details, Ana. I've never had a nice guy come out of the shower wet and in a towel.

—I thought Elliot wasn't bad.

—Well, except for Elliot, of course. Tell me about it.

—Tell you what?

—Don't play dumb Ana. It's been a year since you've had sex and without seeing a half-naked man live and in full color. What did you feel?

I don't know why I called her, I knew this conversation would end like this.

—I was shocked. When he asked me to use the shower, I didn't thinkshe'd come out half-naked, much less wet. And I didn't think he'd look this hot and sexy either. —the last one I said quietly. —Did you know he has a tattoo on his arm and shoulder?

—Hot and sexy, huh! —I see she didn't catch the part about the tattoo.

—I don't even know why I called you. I'd better go watch something on TV.

—Yeah, I think it'll be best, see if you can forget about the hot guy on the other side of the wall.

And I'm hanging up on her. I close my eyes while I throw the phone on the bed and roll my mind. I put every thought of Christian, with or without clothes, out of my mind. I get out of bed and go into the living room to watch TV, hoping I won't run into him.

I'm sitting in front of the TV when Christian comes out of the room, luckily for my mental judgment fully dressed, and he leaves.

He comes back an hour later loaded with plumbing tools. He probably went to get someone to fix his bathroom.

A few minutes later I feel the pounding in his room, and the noise of tools. I don't remember anyone coming into the apartment to fix his shower. He's repairing it himself? I'm trying to ignore the noise coming from his room and concentrate on the movie I'm watching.

—Ana! Can you come here a minute! —he shouts at me from his room.

I get up and go over there without imagining what I'm going to find. The first thing I see are the tools scattered on the floor, which I dodge to avoid tripping over them and falling. Then I see the slabs he has removed so that he can fix the pipe. But then I look up and I see him.

He's standing under the shower, holding the new piece in place with one hand. But that's not the whole picture. He's completely wet. The white sweater he's wearing clings to his body like a second skin, revealing the muscles of his body underneath. The physical strain has made these muscles tense. It's like having my own private wet T-shirt show.

I have to say in my defense, that my gawking at it has to do with the fact that none of the couples I've had have had those heart attack bodies of magazine models or Hollywood actors. Plus, I've been on a diet for a while and the sight of a specimen like this makes my breathing quicken. And if you add to that the fact that it's wet. Mmmmm, it's a delicious and dangerous, very dangerous combination.

—You can hand me the wrench. —he says pointing at the floor.

I come out of my trance, take the wrench with trembling hands and reach for it. And I stand there, under the shower, beside him, watching what he does, waiting to see if he needs anything else. Seeing how his arm moves by squeezing the piece while with the other one he leans against the wall. He doesn't look at me, he's very concentrated on what he's doing.

I contain a moan that wants to escape my lips as I watch him work. Shit! Who knew watching a completely wet man work in a shower could turn me on? Not only working in the shower, when he came out of my bathroom wet, I also had to hold back a groan and squeeze my legs. This is new. I guess living with a man does have its advantages after all. And if it's one who's so hot, a lot more. But I think it also has its disadvantages. If every time I see him, I'm going to feel this way, I'm going to have to move out. It's enough sexual frustration with not having sex. And even more so if I see him every day.

Then it all happens too fast. The sound of a click. The piece that breaks. The water that starts coming out in all directions, wetting both of us.

—Ah! —I scream when the icy water starts to fall on me.

Christian tries to contain the spout. He points to another piece on the floor and I reach out to him. And he as fast as he can places it and adjusts it just enough so no more water comes out. The water stops after a few seconds. But it's too late. I'm completely wet and Christian looks at me up and down as he throws his hair back with one hand and smiles at me.

That simple gesture, accompanied by the most beautiful smile I've ever seen, makes my breathing accelerate and the pulse in my veins start to beat faster. Even more than it did a few minutes before.

—I'm sorry. I got you all wet. —he says to me apologizing.

I lie down on the wall of the bathroom when I feel my legs weakening from what he just said. Never have words sounded so erotic and sensual to me. If he only knew the truth behind what he just said. And the truth is, my panties were wet before the shower did.

How can I get excited watching him or listening to him talk, when I know he's not into women? Or at least that's what I think. I'm not so sure about anything Kate told me anymore. Much less, by the way he's looking at me right now. His gaze is briefly lost in the v-neck of the blouse I'm wearing. But quickly he looks up at my eyes, and I lose myself in his gaze. I half-open my lips because I'm finding it hard to breathe with him so close to me. I feel my nipples tighten against the bra as he continues to stare at me. I've never been so excited in all my life. And he hasn't even laid a finger on me.

He steps forward, cornering me against the shower wall. His body is almost stick to mine, only a few inches apart. I watch his chest go up and down with his breathing fast like mine. I just forgot my mantra. I want him to kiss me. I want to feel those fleshy lips on mine. I want to feel his strong hands and muscular arms on my over-excited skin again. And I want him to take me right here against the wall of the shower. He leans in a little more, his body slightly touching mine. I close my eyes because I imagine he's going to kiss me. But then I feel something rubbing against my skin and I open them. Instead of kissing me, I get a towel to dry myself.

How silly of me. I'm certainly not the kind of woman he's looking for. He'll never notice me.

—Thank you. —I tell him as I take the towel off his hand.

I watch him take another one and start drying himself too.

As I dry off a little, I quickly leave the place. I think he's definitely gay. Or he's not attracted to me enough to do what my perverted mind imagined would happen in the shower.

I have to accept it, I'm aware that he's never going to notice me when he doesn't notice Kate. But what am I thinking? If I told myself I didn't want to know anything about men, why is it that ever since I met him I can't stop thinking about men and sex and relationships? —Because you're attracted to him— my subconscious screams at me, but I ignore it, as usual.

—Definitely all men are idiots. —I say to myself as I walk into my room and lock the door, I don't know why, and I go straight to the bathroom.

I throw the towel aside, furious, I start to violently take off my wet clothes. I toss the blouse aside and the shoes and jeans follow. I almost slip on the wet floor because of the water still dripping from my body.

When I get dressed in dry clothes I drop into bed and retrieve the novel I had abandoned. It is 5:30 pm. It's only a few hours until my kick boxing class. And I'm really sorry with whoever I'm partnered with, because with the sexual frustration I've been accumulating these days and how angry and excited I am, he's going to have a really hard time.

It's about time. I get dressed and go out to the club with the bag I bought on my shoulder where my gloves and pads go. It's lucky I didn't run into Christian. When I get to the gym they show me where Professor Rodriguez's class is. There are several women in the class, but most of them are men. I sit down on a bench, open my bag and take out my bandages. When the teacher arrives, I'm ready.

—Good afternoon.

The professor is not what I had imagined. For a former MMA champion, he doesn't keep up very well with his physical form.

—Professor Rodriguez has had a personal problem so I'll give you today's class, pair up for the warm-up.