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With each of them on separate ends, they ascended the stairs to the second level, with Luna clearly straining the whole way but it served her right. The first thing to hit him inside her place was the scent. It smelled like cinnamon and fall and warm cozy blankets. Number seven previously only smelled this good when Ms. Carol made her oatmeal cookies.
Not only did it smell inviting, but the apartment’s style was completely different. He allowed himself to do a slow perusal of the place. There was the peacock blue wall, soft natural-color woven shades, and the new flooring in the dining/kitchen area, but the longest wall in the living room had a large art-deco-style graphic going across it in gold and white. Honeycomb shelving and artwork covered the opposite wall. There was also elegant furniture and tall houseplants filling the place, giving it a modern style out of something likeInterior Designmagazine. He couldn’t even complain about sloppy handiwork because it would be a lie. There was a new light fixture over the dining room table instead of the old brass globe one. She was doing electrical work? He found himself gritting his teeth again.
“You look mad,” Luna said, appearing unsure instead of cocky.
“Where do you want this thing?” Sam was irritated but he wasn’t in the mood to get into another argument with her; once a day was enough. At this point, he had to finish the task and leave before he ripped the skin from his bones due to frustration at his fix-it list for this apartment growing larger.
“You can put it here. It’s staying in the living room.” They dropped the rug on the beige carpet, and she rushed to shut her bedroom door as though worried he was going to snoop every corner of her apartment. “You don’t have to stay. I’ll just roll it to where I need it.”
“I’ll help you move the furniture.”
“I don’t need—”
“Let’s just get this over with and then I’ll be out of here.”
She stared at him as if she was as perplexed by him as he was by her. Silence was her concession as they moved the furniture in order to put the new rug in position. After she used scissors to cut the binding, the oversized rug was allowed to unfurl across the carpet, revealing plush cream-colored long shaggy fibers.
“This is a used rug? It looks brand new.”
She smiled, looking pleased, and it softened her features. “Right? Such a bargain for seventy-five dollars. The guy said it was only used once.”
He cocked his head, pondering this information. “Why would you buy a rug to only use it once?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care. My gain.”
They each took an end of the larger sofa, moving it into its original spot. “Maybe it’s…” but he stopped the sentence before going any further.
One of her eyebrows quirked. “What?”
Sam shrugged a shoulder in a sheepish display. “Maybe it’s a porn rug.”
“Excuse me? What does that even mean?”
He scratched his neck. “They bought the rug for some amateur porn shoot.”
“It’snota porn rug.”
Sam pressed his lips together and raised his brow in a display of skepticism.
She crossed her arms. “You seem to know a lot about the set décor of amateur porn. Maybe the ones you’re watching aren’t doing a good job of holding your interest.”
The more exasperated she got, the harder it was not to let a smile slip from his face. He dropped his eyes to the soft rug in question before sneaking a glance at her. “What’d the guy look like?”
Her mouth opened to respond before she shut it again, her face flushing with color. “I…don’t remember.”
Sam lifted the glass and gold metal coffee table, returning it to its position on the rug. “I’m not sure if I believe that. I bet you’re really good with faces.”
It was clear Luna was torn between taking the compliment and not giving him the satisfaction. “It’s not a porn rug,” she insisted.
“What’d he look like, Luna?”
“Just some middle-aged white guy.”
“And?”
“And nothing. You’re not going to make me feel bad about the great deal—”
“Is that a stain?”
