Chapter 4

“How long have you been living here?” he asks when I return to the living room and hand him his coffee.

“Five years,” I say, sitting down beside him, cradling my own cup and reminiscing. I am lucky that my parents were willing to co-sign on the apartment when I first moved here, helping me get my feet on the ground after I graduated. I loved it so much I decided to stay after they removed their names from the lease.

Though my apartment is small, I have splashes of color everywhere. The sofa is a rich chocolate color and the cushions are a bright yellow. The paintings on the walls are colorful abstracts.

“It suits my needs, and I like to keep things simple. Do you like it?”

“I do,” he says. “It seems to reflect your personality—colorful, down to earth, and adorable,” he adds with a slow smile.

Damn it, I’m blushing again. I give him a shy smile. As we sip our coffee, he puts his left hand on my thigh and makes small circles, driving me slowly insane.