Once we’re done and I give the place my stamp of approval, we head out again. “Now you need a couch,” Sawyer says.
“No more fucking sectionals,” I seethe, still pissed about Walt and how he was plowing that man with abandon on the fucking couch I paid for. NO MORE FUCKING SECTIONALS!
The few yard sales we see on our side of town have couches, but none that coordinate with anything I bought today. I mightnot have any luck getting a set, but I want to try before I give up. Honestly, I really only need a loveseat. I only have a handful of friends and don’t plan to do a lot of entertaining. Mostly, I need somewhere to relax after work while I play video games or read a book. But I would feel like a real grownup if I had a living room set.
“Want to try the north side?” Sawyer asks as he hops onto the interstate.
I scoff and shake my head. “I won’t be able to afford anything they’re selling. Those people buy the most expensive furniture just to sell it when it goes out of season a few months later. You think they’ll have anything in my budget?”
“You never know. You might get lucky.”
We haven’t so far, but it’s not like it’ll hurt to look. If I can’t find something within my budget, we can always try again next weekend.
Shrugging, I say, “Okay, sure. Why the hell not?”
Sawyer pulls off the interstate a few exits later, and we weave through the streets of the north side.
The houses here are larger and spaced further apart, but there are several yard sales. We don’t stop at all of them, checking out the windows first to see if they have any couches that don’t look stiff. We drive for over an hour with no luck, all the selections looking like they belong in a museum or a fancy doctor’s office.
Just when I start to tell Sawyer that we can try again next week, I look down a side street that’s almost directly between the two sides of town and see a yard sale in a cul-de-sac. Before Sawyer passes the street, my eyes snag on a couch and loveseat set.
“Stop!” I shout, making Sawyer yelp and slam on the brakes. Thank all that is holy that there aren’t any other cars behind us.
“Shit, you can’t do that, man! I thought something darted into the road,” Sawyer huffs, turning hard eyes on me.
“Sorry,” I say sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
He turns away and runs a hand through his hair and blows out a long breath. When he looks back at me his eyes are as friendly as they usually are. “It’s all good. Sorry for snapping like that.”
I lean into him. “You had a reason to. I was excited because I saw a living room set back there. I should have waited until you got to the stop sign and asked you to turn around.”
Kissing the top of my head, he says, “All good. Let me turn and we can go check it out.”
Sawyer makes a wide, illegal-as-fuck U-turn in the middle of the street and turns down the cul-de-sac.
When we pull up and park, I peer at the couches and see a man standing next to a tall, Black woman, pointing at the set. I deflate as I watch their exchange, hoping and praying he won’t snap them up. I’m tired and want to rest, but I want to leave with those couches, dammit!
As I watch, the woman shakes her head, her large, beautiful ‘fro moving with the motion. The man huffs and puts his hands on his hips, his face red as he says something that puts a furrow in her brow.
Before he continues to spew whatever shit he thinks will get him what he wants, she snaps her fingers and his eyes widen, his hands going to his throat. He stumbles away, trying to speak, but no sound comes out.
Sawyer and I look at each other, but don’t leave. That was creepy, but I really want those couches.
As soon as we get out of the truck, the most amazing scent hits me. It’s like…coffee and books and leather andman. JesusChrist, that smells amazing.
“Is there a coffee shop around here?” I ask, sniffing at the air obnoxiously. I know I look a fool, but I can’t stop. I need to know where that scent is coming from so I can bathe in it.
Sawyer looks at me, an eyebrow ticked up. “No. I mean, I think there’s one a few miles back. Why? You feeling tired?”
“No…you don’t smell that?” I sniff again, taking in the powerful, erotic aroma.
Erotic? Huh?
I look down at my front and see my cock is half hard! It even has the nerve to twitch like it wants everyone to see what’s going on because that scent is in the air.
Quickly, I pull my shirt down to cover myself. Thank god I have on one of Sawyer’s much bigger tops. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m some sick man that gets aroused by freaking furniture.
I look around and meet the eyes of the woman that shut that guy up, and smile at her, not wanting to get on her bad side. She smiles back, but it’s not just a welcoming smile, it’s…knowing. What does she know? Couldn’t fucking tell you, but sheknows.
