Christian's finishing up the tiles he had removed. I watch him working, shirtless, surrounded by tools. He's drenched in sweat and I don't know why, suddenly I'm starting to feel very hot. So I open the water bottle and give it a good drink without taking my eyes off him.

And the memories of the night before flood my mind. I don't remember ever feeling the way I did last night while he was massaging me. I bite my lower lip while holding back a groan. And the kiss this morning. Mmm. I think the two-year wait was worth it. If I felt that way last night while his hands were touching me, how am I going to feel when he's inside me? Or when his lips are running through my skin? Or when he's caressing me intimately? Just thinking about it makes me start to get excited.

So far, Christian hasn't disappointed me. Not his hands, not his kiss. And suddenly I'm staring at his crotch. I squint my eyes wondering what size he is.

—Do you need a cold shower, Ana?—he asks me suddenly.

I avert my eyes from his crotch and look into his eyes. I don't notice that he's staring at me with a smile on his lips. He's finished what he was doing and looks at me with an eyebrow raised.

—What! —I ask him because I didn't hear what he said.

He takes a step in my direction. He no longer has any tools in his hands. He stops in front of me.

—Are you going to drink the water? —he asks me suddenly.

And as I stare at him I shake my head as I offer him the bottle in my hand from which I have barely taken a sip. Christian takes the bottle and without looking away from me, he brings the bottle to his lips and begins to drink. I can't take my eyes off his mouth. I have unconsciously slipped my tongue to my lips. Seeing him drinking water has made me very thirsty. Suddenly, he stops drinking, and offers me the bottle.

—Do you want it?

I nod. I have no idea how he does it, but it's made me excited just to see him drinking water. I try to take the bottle out of his hand, but he pulls it out.

—No, let me. —he says to me in a tone that I find too erotic and sensual at the time.

He takes another step next to me. He lifts one hand towards my cheek slowly caressing me and then leaves it holding my jaw while he slowly brings the bottle to my lips. I open my lips and drink the water he slowly offers me. But no matter how hard I try, I can't take my eyes off of his. He begins to slowly remove the bottle and I stop drinking.

—Are you done? —I ask him as I look away from him.

I can't keep staring at him, because the more I look at him, the more his presence begins to affect me. And the muscles underneath my belly, which have been awake since last night, begin to tense up in anticipation. And all I can think about is feeling his lips again on mine.

—Yes, I must wait until tomorrow to use it. —he says to me as I can see a smile on his lips. —I'm going to have to use yours again today.

—Yeah, no problem. —I tell him as he smiles at me and I feel a knot forming in my stomach as I imagine myself sharing a shower with him or the tub.

—We should start getting ready. —he says to me as he looks at the time on his watch. —We'll stop on the way for lunch. —he says with a smile.

I'd forgotten about work.

—All right, I'll get ready then. —I tell him as I leave his room quickly.

On the way to the afternoon interviews, we stop at a Chinese restaurant where we eat delicious chop suey and spring rolls.

The afternoon, just like the days before, passes from one interview to the other. The last interview is delayed a bit, and by the time I finish and say goodbye, it's getting dark. I open the back door of the car and, exhausted, once again, I drop into the leather.

—What's happened? —he asks, turning to me.

—There was an accident at the gym, and the person I was supposed to interview was for the hospital.

—Did you get to do the interview?

—Yes. —I'm a little disappointed.

—But...

—But I'm not convinced by any of the candidates yet.

—What are you going to do? Is there no one else left on the list?

—No, I'm going to have to pick one of the interviewees and present it to the magazine on Friday.

—So. That's it for today?

—Yes. It's time for us to go back, I'm dead. —I tell him as I lie down on the seat and close my eyes.

Christian starts driving while I rest in the seat. I'm thinking. Of today's interviewees, there are two that I must assess and compare with the one I've already chosen. Although neither of them convinces me completely.

I open my eyes and look at Christian in front of me. And an idea crosses my mind. Why it didn't occur to me before. I know he's not on the list of candidates, but it wouldn't be a bad choice. Suddenly I'm sitting in the seat and I'm holding onto his back.

—Christian. Can I ask you something?

—Yes. —he answer me dubiously.

—Were you an MMA champion?

—Yes, but I don't compete anymore, I'm retired. —he says to me, while I feel some melancholy in his voice.

—Why did you retire?

Christian takes a while to answer. During dinner he hadn't answered me what had happened to him, he had told me that at another time.

—Because of the accident. —he says to me in a low voice.

I can see how he clings tightly to the rudder, making his knuckles white. And the tone of voice in which he told me, tells me that it is better not to ask him anything else.

—Would you mind giving an interview for a magazine?

At that moment I feel a very strong explosion in the car and as it goes out of control momentarily. I cling tightly to the seat. Christian presses the brake and as he pulls the car to the side of the road we stop.

—Are you all right?—he asks me turning towards me worried.

—Yes. —I tell him as I try to pull myself together from the fright. —What was that?

—It seems we have a flat tire. —he says as he takes off his seatbelt and gets out of the car.

We are on a remote road, with little traffic and not much light. I get out of the car and stand next to him. As I look at the car, I see that one of the rear tires is flat.

—I think we should call a tow truck. —I say to him as I go to get my phone.

—Don't waste your time, Ana, we don't have a signal here. —he says to me as I watch him take off his jacket and shirt and put them on the seat.

Christian keeps a white tank top and goes to the trunk. He opens it and takes out a coverall that he puts on and ties up to the waist.

—What are you going to do?

—It's not obvious. Change the tire. —he says to me as he pulls the spare out of the trunk and the tools too.

I try in vain to look for a signal with my cell phone. Like he said, we don't have reception. We're in a dead zone.

—Can you give me a light here?

I turn on my cell phone flashlight and shine it to help him change the tire. Watching him work with the tools only reminds me of what happened in the shower. I hold the phone with both hands because I know it will fall off if I don't. And as I watch his every move, I feel my pulse racing. I've just come to a conclusion.

I get excited when I see him working out or making a physical effort. Whether it's fixing a shower, changing a tire, or punching a bag. I contain a groan that wants to escape my lips as he tighten the wheel nuts.

—Ready.

I get out of my thoughts and see that it's over and he's putting away the tools and the flat tire. When he closes the trunk I get back in the car. Christian makes sure he doesn't leave anything behind and rides as well.

We arrive at the building after 8:00 pm. We get out of the elevator and walk to the apartment. Christian has his shirt and jacket hanging in his hand. I walk beside him, pensive. I look at him sideways. His shirt is stained with grease in some places.

I swallow dry and try to bring down the knot that has formed in my throat as he opens the apartment door.

I'm exhausted. Christian goes to his room and I do the same to mine. I need a relaxing bath in the tub. I go into the bathroom and fill it up with salt and foam. Why does my room have a tub and his doesn't? Maybe it was Beth's doing. I can imagine her lying in the tub for hours. I smile as I take off my blouse and skirt and remember the cream Christian took from the bath last night. I go back to the room to get it.

—Do you think I could use...

I turn quickly to the door. There he is. Frozen. Staring at me. He's not just staring at me. He's sliding his gaze over my body. And I'm in my panties, my bra and my heels in the middle of the room. I don't know if I should cover myself, but like him, I can't move from my place. I stare at him. His predatory gaze. He wants me just as badly as I want him. Or more. His face is stained with grease and I can't help but laugh.

I can feel the sexual tension in the air. The desire that draws me to him and drives me to walk in his direction.

And that's exactly what I do. I walk with a firm and determined step until I stop in front of him forgetting for a second that I am in a lace bra and a thong, lace too. I look up at his face. I raise a hand and slide my tongue over my thumb before bringing it to his face and wiping off a grease spot.

—You have grease on your face. —I tell him with a smile.

—Humm! —is the only thing he can articulate at that moment while his eyes are fixed on mine.

I think I've managed to make him speechless. I smile to myself.

—I'll let you know when I'm done so you can use it. —I tell him as I turn around and walk to the bathroom away from him.

As I walk to the bathroom I feel sexy and daring. An idea crosses my mind and when I get to the door I turn to him and smile him.

—Or if you want you can join me in the tub. —I say to him as I enter and leave the door open.

I finish undressing and get into the tub with my breath coming fast. And I stare at the open bathroom door. The only thing I can think of as the water and foam covers my whole body is him coming through that door and getting in here with me.

Every second that goes by, it's like torture. As time goes by, I know he's not going to do it. So I look away from the door, turn to the side and grab the sponge from the floor.

—Let me. —he says to me as his fingers brush against mine and he takes the sponge out of my hand.

I can feel my heart racing with just that touch. I stare at him as the muscles below my belly tighten in delightful anticipation. But when I look closely at him, I know I will be disappointed.

He is still dressed as he sits behind me at the side of the tub and picks up the gel to pour into the sponge.

—You're not going to get in here with me?—I ask him as I feel him laugh behind my back.

—If I go in there with you, Ana, I don't think I can resist the temptation to take you exactly as I wish and end up hurting you. —he says to me as he starts to slide the sponge over my shoulders.

—What do you mean by hurting me? —I say to him as I close my eyes.

—I'll explain it to you another day. Let me know you. Before I become your lover, I want to be your friend.

—Friends don't do these things. —I tell him by opening my eyes and turning briefly to look at him.

—Pretend I'm gay. —he says to me with a smile while I laugh out loud.

—What will you do? Think I'm your sister?

—No, God! Not my sister. She's so obnoxious and heavy. —he says with a laugh. —I want to know your body. —he says to me as he slides his hands around the contour of my body, lightly touching my breasts.

—Know my body? —I ask him, breathing fast.

—Yes, like a true lover knows. —he says to me as he lifts his hands back onto my shoulders.

I don't know what kind of relationship he wants to have with me, but if this is what comes with his friendship, then I let him be my friend.