Life Through a Lense

Chapter Six

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We didn't go to restaurant like I thought we would. Instead, we went to his apartment. Or should I say floor? He had an entire floor, the top floor, actually. You could see the entire city from the windows. Everything in here looked like it cost more than I made in a month. Everything from the furniture to bad modern art to one of those TV's that's curved instead of a flat edge screamed Donald Trump pent house apartment. I was afraid to touch a thing.

"What are you doing?" I demanded as I saw him pull out a knife from a drawer.

"I'm going to cut a tomato," he answered. Once he followed my gaze to the knife, he laughed. "What did you think I was going to do?"

"Some guy that won't leave me alone practically kidnaps me, brings me to his place and ends up pulling out a knife...what the hell am I supposed to think?"

"'Kidnap' is hardly an accurate word," he said.

I narrowed my eyes. "Just because you're rich and hot doesn't make what you do any less creepy."

"Did you just say that I'm hot?" He asked.

The muscles in my jaw clenched. Had that come out of my mouth?

"That's what you got out of all that?" I deflected.

"Yup," he said, smirking.

"Your hairline is already receding, I give you about ten years before you're completely bald," I lied. He had the fullest head of hair I'd ever seen.

"That's ten years to win you over," he said.

I rolled my eyes.

"Are you always this defensive an cynical?" he asked.

Was I? Sarcasm was my mother tongue, but I don't think this was normally this negative. Tristan got under my skin in a way only my sister could. Sure, I got annoyed at assholes that catcall or rude customers, but this was deeper.

"Only around you," I answered.

"Glad to know I'm special."

"Are you always this aggressive?" I asked.

"Only around you," he mirrored my words.

"Glad to know I'm special," I muttered.

"Come here," he said, waving me over.