Page 97 of No Need to Run
We start in the living room section. Drew studies the price tags like they're delivering bad medical news.
“This one’s nice,” I say, stopping beside a deep gray couch.
He leans down, checking the tag. “Define ‘nice.’”
“Comfortable. Durable. Neutral.”
“Expensive.”
I consider that. “Also that.”
He huffs out a breath. “I’m not trying to furnish a mansion.”
“You’re not,” I say calmly. “You’re furnishing your home.”
He stills for a second like he’s mulling over my words. Then he clears his throat. “You’re right.”
He lowers himself gingerly onto the couch, like sitting too aggressively means he has to buy it.
I sit beside him, close enough that our thighs brush.
He goes still for a second, clearly aware of it. But he doesn’t move.
“What do you think?” I ask, leaning back slightly.
He exhales, testing the cushions. “It’s… actually really comfortable.”
“It’ll look good in your house,” I say.
His brows pull together. “How do you know?”
“The color. It goes with pretty much everything.”
“Oh.” His eyes linger on me for a moment longer than necessary.
I rub my hand over the material. “What do you think? If you buy the couch and recliner, it’ll save you some money.” I point at the tag.
“That’s promising.” He stands, then holds his hand out for me to take. “Let’s continue looking.”
I take his hand, goosebumps trailing over my skin.
He smells like soap and stability. Like everything I crave.
We examine a few more couches and a sectional, but I already know Drew is going to get the first one we sat on.
We move to the bedroom section. Beds line the floor in neat rows.
Drew stops again, looking slightly more overwhelmed than before. “I don’t even know where to start.”
I point. “Try that one.”
He eyes it like it might bite him before slowly lowering himself onto it. He bounces lightly, testing it.
“It’s firm,” he says.
“You’ll like it.”
He glances up at me. “You sound very sure.”
