The alcohol burns, and the first sip begins to take effect. Recovered, I smirk at him. "The condo."
"7,074."
"Wow!" I look around the room. "That's three times the house I grew up in."
He smiles, "There's plenty of room."
I plop down in a chair and stare at him. "I can't stay here."
He frowns, leans forward, and asks, "Why not?"
"I don't belong here."
"That's my call, babe."
I shake my head, "But…."
"But nothing." He says firmly.
"Bastian, I don't want to quit. But I don't want to live here."
He looks around. "Why not?"
"It's overwhelming."
"You'll get used to it." He stands, "Come on. I'll give you a tour."
He takes the empty glass from my hand and walks back over to the bar first. His masculine grace glides across the vast expanse, and his rugged handsomeness is completely at home. I feel like a fish out of water.
"How long have you lived here?" I rise and walk around the sectional to observe the full-length view unhindered.
"Three years." He says over his shoulder as he pours us another drink.
"They look like Legos." I nod toward the buildings even though he isn't next to me.
"Yes, they do."
"Are we higher than the Empire State Building?"
"Probably. I don't fill my brain with useless statistics." He says as he returns with our refills. He hands mine to me, and I take it. "However, it's the tallest resident building in the city."
"It's all very surreal." I look out at the skyline again. "Like we're on top of the world looking down on life.
"Wait until you see it in the morning."
"Hmm," I take another sip, then look at him. "Are you lonely, Sebastian?"
With his eyes focused on the view, he admits, "Sometimes." He lifts his drink and takes a sip. I study his gorgeous profile. He seems lonely. Then he looks at me with an expression of longing that warms my heart. "You?"
"Mostly," I admit. Staring into his eyes, feeling the isolation of living among millions of people, my heart reaches past my mind and touches his. For a moment, we share a need to be intimately connected to someone.
He takes a step back and says, "Come on. Let me give you a tour."
I follow him across the room. He slides a hidden door into the wall to reveal… "The kitchen." Its lights come on automatically.
Stepping inside, the room is huge. Along with a modern full-scale kitchen with a walk-in pantry, a full-service cooking station, an island, and a counter with a bar and six stools, there's a breakfast table pushed up against the floor-to-ceiling window with two chairs on the ends and two pushed underneath. I imagine sitting in one tomorrow morning, looking down as I sip my morning coffee. God, what if I feel the urge to hurl?
"Want something to eat?" He asks from the refrigerator. The image of his head stuck inside is reflected on the glass.
