Chapter Six
Vanessa
Cristian’s apartment is like the man himself—all man, dark and put together. I take in the dark wood floors, the black appliances, and granite countertops. There are no pictures of people on the wall or picture frames adorning the shelves. It’s all concrete and steel embellishments with no knickknacks and nothing is out of place. In fact, I’d think it was just a furnished apartment if I didn’t know he lived here.
He tosses his keys into a brown leather bowl on the table in the front room, toes out of his shoes and leaves them neatly next to the table.
Jesus, just like my father.
“Are you thirsty?” he asks, making his way into the kitchen.
Thankfully, he let the whole lie about a stalker ex-boyfriend go without pressing me on it. I can’t tell him the truth of who s
