Page 92 of Strings
“She’s not that bad!”
“That’s not what Cherese told me. She said you broke up with her almost immediately after she met your parents. If they hated Cherese, then imagine what they’ll think of me!”
“Is that what you’re worried about? You think I’m going to break up with you after you meet them?”
“Well, technically, we aren’t officially dating, so you can’treallybreak up with me.”
He pulls down a side street and stops in front of a fancy building. He places the car in park and faces me. I’m still not looking at him, but I feel his eyes on me. I pick a piece of hair off my skirt.
“It seems we have a multitude of issues to address.”
“Not really. Shouldn’t we get to your place? You’re going to make me late for work.”
“We’re here.”
I gaze out my window. “Here?”
“Yes. This is my building.”
“You live in there?”
He laughs as he steps out of the car and walks around to my side, opening the door. He holds his hand out for me. I take it and stand. “I don’t just live here. I own it too.”
Placing my hand along the tops of my eyes to block the sun, I try to count the stories. “You own the whole damn thing?”
“Yes. I have the top floor. I rent out the rest.”
“Jesus.”
“I prefer Sebastian.”
I roll my eyes as the car beeps, sounding the alarm activation. He pulls my hand and leads me into the building to the elevators. He places a key in the lock and then hits button ten. We don’t speak as we take the ride to his floor. The doors open right to the foyer.
He steps out and I stay inside the elevator, peeking around the door.
“You can come in, you know,” he says with a wink.
I scrunch up my face at him and stick out my tongue. I know he’s mocking me.
“Give me a second to change. Make yourself at home.”
He walks down a few steps toward a hallway. His apartment is bigger than all the apartments on my floor put together. How much does something like this cost? Holy crap. The floor looks like it’s made of marble or some other expensive glossy material. He has leather furniture and a television set that looks like it belongs in a movie theater. There’s a glass bar behind it with various bottles of liquor and a kitchen to the right that seems to be top of the line.
I cross my arms and hold myself. This must be how the other side lives.
“Do you like it?” he asks as he rounds the corner, buttoning his shirt. I see a small amount of hair poking out around his navel, and I remember running my tongue along that spot this morning. I blush and nod.
“So, about those items we need to discuss.”
“Bash, just drop it. We don’t need to talk about anything.”
“I beg to differ.”
He walks into the kitchen and I hear him shuffling through a couple of drawers. A minute later, he walks over to me. “Hold out your hand?”
“Why?”
He sighs. “Indulge me for once.”
