“Oh, yes, sure. Certainly.” Sasha hurriedly stepped out of the way.
With couch in hand, the movers walked past Sasha and went straight into her apartment. She at least thought they would have set the couch down in the hall before going into her apartment, but maybe they didn’t want to take the chance of someone stealing it while they inspected her place for an intruder. Nonetheless, she was going to wait right out there in the hallway. She wasn’t going into her apartment until she knew the coast was clear. If she heard some tussling, yelling, and commotion, she’d go run and call 911 to come rescue the movers. But it was not going to be a triple homicide if she could help it.
Only a few seconds had passed when both the movers came out into the hallway, looking around.
“Okay, which one is your place?” the mover asked Sasha.
She looked confused. “Here.” She nodded to her open apartment door. “Where you just went in.”
The two movers stood there looking confused.
“Where we just delivered the furniture?” the mover asked Sasha, scrunching up his face.
“Delivered the furniture?” Sasha said. “You mean you were . . .” Her words trailed off as she walked directly in front of the movers. They parted to let her through her doorway. Sasha cautiously stepped inside. Sure enough, not only was the leather couch placed in her living room where her old couch had once sat, there was also a matching loveseat. Both the couch and loveseat had beautiful throw pillows on them, and there was a Persian rug placed in the middle of all the furniture. But the most surprising and beautiful thing out of it all was the chocolate accessory sitting on the couch like he owned the place.
“Terrance?” Sasha said in shock. “What . . . what are you doing here?” She dropped her purse and keys on one of the ottomans and began spinning around in a daze. “What is all this? I don’t understand how you got into my apartment.”
“Mr. McKinley, is everything good?” the mover who had been doing all the talking thus far asked Terrance.
“Yes, gentlemen. As you can see,”—he sensually eyeballed Sasha—“everything is just fine.” Terrance stood as he dug into his pants pocket. “Thank you guys for everything. I appreciate it.” Terrance pulled out a wad of cash and peeled off a hundred-dollar bill for each mover. He then peeled off a third. “And give this one to y’all’s boy,” Terrance said, referring to the third mover Sasha had seen earlier.
“Thank you, Mr. McKinley.” The silent mover finally spoke. Benjamin Franklin had a way of making people talk. “Any time. Just call on us.”
“Thank you,” the more talkative mover said to Terrance, then looked to Sasha. “So everything’s okay, ma’am?”
Apparently he hadn’t forgotten about how frantic Sasha had been just moments ago. Sasha was still stunned at the scene going down before her.
“Uh, yeah, I think. I mean . . .” She shook her head, hoping the words would rattle into place. “I, uhh, don’t understand.” Sasha looked to the movers. “Guys, I didn’t order this furniture.”
“I did,” Terrance chimed in. “Don’t you like it?” He sat comfortably back down on the couch.
“I-I love it,” Sasha tried to assure him, only her dragging words didn’t sound so sure. She had to pause and think about this. What exactly did him buying this furniture mean? Certainly this brotha didn’t think he was going to be camping out at her crib. Is that why he’d purchased the furniture? He wanted to get something he could be comfortable on? Had he actually bought it for himself instead of her? They’d only been dating a little while. She’d been out on ten dates with another guy who barely wanted to pay the restaurant tab, let alone buy her a brand-new living room suite. But what Sasha had to realize was that she wasn’t dealing with the average dude. Terrance was paid. He was a baller. This was all foreign to her.
“I knew you would.” Terrance smiled. He looked mighty proud of himself for picking out the furniture all on his own. “I knew this was your taste. Not that the furniture you had before wasn’t nice, but I just didn’t see you all sprawled out, elongated, resting,”—he nodded toward Sasha’s body while eyeballing it—“on something like that.” He licked his lips. “Not with all that you’re working with. Only the best for the best.”
Well, he’d confirmed that he had, in fact, bought the furniture to suit her liking. Sasha swallowed. She appreciated the compliment. She appreciated the furniture even more. She hoped she wasn’t sounding hard to please or ungrateful. “I appreciate that, Terrance, I really do, but—”
“You really don’t like it, do you?” Terrance asked, sounding disappointed. “You just don’t want to hurt my feelings. Come on, I’m a big boy. You can tell me the truth.”
“No, it’s not that at all,” Sasha said. “When I saw the men moving the furniture into the building, I was already jealous of the owner, having no idea that you were the owner.”
“You are the owner,” Terrance corrected. “It’s all yours.”
Sasha walked over to the loveseat. She was still having a hard time grasping the fact that this man had given her such an expensive gift. Then again, there was always a chance that he hadn’t just simply given it to her. Perhaps there were strings attached. Heck, there could even be money attached. She could be wrong in assuming that it was completely paid for. Perhaps he expected her to pay for the rest. She admired it and rubbed her hand down the loveseat. It felt so soft. She could definitely picture herself curled up on it flipping through magazines. She needed more clarity first. “But I can’t . . . I can’t afford this. What are the payments? Probably about five hun—”
“There are no payments.” Terrance cut her off. “It’s my gift to you. It’s paid in full.”
Terrance had confirmed beyond a shadow of a doubt he’d bought this furniture just for her. Sasha’s mouth fell open. She didn’t know what else to say at this point. She looked to the deliverymen. They each nodded, backing up Terrance’s statement that no balance was owed. The furniture was all hers. Sasha put her hand on her forehead and went and sat down on the couch next to Terrance. “Good Lord,” she said as she sank into the softness. “This is . . .”
“Yours,” Terrance said.
Sasha stared at the furniture, rubbing it. “Thank you, but—”
“I know you are not about to have me have them come pick this furniture back up,” he said, sounding slightly annoyed.
Sasha looked from the furniture to Terrance. His tone was a little edgy. She wanted to look at him and see if his facial expression matched. Perhaps his words had come across harder than he intended. That was the second time that his tone had made Sasha bristle.
Terrance looked at Sasha. “I don’t offend easily,” he started. “But I’m going to take it personally if you don’t accept it. I really took a lot of pride in picking this out for you.”
That explained why Terrance’s tone had sounded on the verge of callous there for a minute. He’d been offended by her rejecting his gift. Sasha could understand that coming from a man like Terrance. He’d probably encountered many women who expected and therefore accepted him throwing gifts their way. He was going to have to get used to the fact that Sasha wasn’t one of those women. At the same time, she didn’t want to appear ungrateful to the man.
Sasha thought for a moment. She was so torn. What woman in her right mind would want to give the furniture back? Especially not a jump-off, which is what Paris had accused Sasha of being. Especially not a gold digger, which is what Paris, in so many words at the mall that day, had instructed Sasha to be. Sasha didn’t want to be labeled as any of those things. So would keeping the furniture make her out to be just that?
“Consider this as a blessing,” Terrance said now in a much softer tone, in an effort to be more convincing to Sasha. “My momma always told me that a person should always accept a blessing from God. And more importantly, never block a blessing from God.”
Sasha looked to Terrance. She’d heard that saying before. She believed it to be true as well, but there
was only one thing. “You ain’t God,” Sasha said to Terrance.
“True,” Terrance said, scooting closer to Sasha. He got right up in her face and then held her chin with his hand, turning her face to him. “But let me be your savior.” He then planted a deep, passionate kiss on Sasha’s lips. He pulled away and stared into her mesmerized eyes.
“So, uhh, are we leaving the furniture or not?” the less talkative mover asked.
Sasha didn’t respond. She simply sat there staring into Terrance’s eyes.
Terrance, not taking his eyes off Sasha’s, simply shooed the movers out with his hand. They exited, closing the door behind them. Upon hearing the door close, Terrance and Sasha engaged in yet another passionate kiss.
“You taste too damn good,” Terrance said, pulling away from Sasha, staring her in the eyes. “It’s the truth,” he assured her when she returned his stare, her eyes showing doubt.
“And you, Mr. McKinley, taste too good to be true.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because it’s how I feel. I come to Atlanta, the first guy I meet is everything a girl could dream of. It doesn’t even seem real. It’s like I’m living a fairy tale right now.”
“See, that’s what I meant about that fear factor,” Terrance said. “Don’t be afraid to let me do what I want to do. Don’t be afraid to allow someone to make you feel like a princess in a fairy tale. I mean, I don’t get it.” Terrance gave Sasha a quizzical look. “You said it yourself; women dream of a man treating them like this, and when a man like me treats you in ways you dreamed of, you can’t accept it. It makes me think women want certain things, but then deep down don’t feel worthy or like they deserve it when a man does try and do it for them.”
Sasha had to admit that Terrance had a very valid point. She’d always looked at herself as someone who deserved to be taken care of. Someone who deserved nice things. Here Terrance was doing it and she was trying to find fault in it. She owed this man an apology and she knew just how to apologize.
Sasha moved to stand in front of Terrance.
After a few seconds of silence he looked up at her. “What?”
“Oh, nothing. I just wanted to thank you.”
“Yeah, well, you’re welcome,” Terrance said in a dry tone.
“You’re welcome?” Sasha questioned.
“Yes, you’re welcome for the furniture.
Sasha placed her hands on Terrance’s knees as she got down on hers. “Oh, but I haven’t thanked you yet.”
Terrance and Sasha stared into each other’s eyes as Sasha leaned into him. Her lips brushed his as her hands moved up his thighs.
“Oh, man,” Terrance whispered against her lips, squirming in excitement.
Sasha pressed her lips against Terrance’s as her hands worked their way toward his groin. The sound of his pants being zipped up was like the needle scratching a vinyl record.
Terrance looked down at his zipped pants with disappointment.
“Your fly was open,” Sasha said, pulling away from him.
“Oh, uh, thank you. Thank you.” Terrance looked uncomfortable and disappointed.
“What’s wrong?” Sasha asked. “You didn’t think you were about to get a blow job in exchange for a sofa, did you?”
Terrance bit his bottom lip.
Sasha burst out laughing, then moved to sit beside him.
“That kiss was my way of saying thank you. No one has ever done anything like this for me.”
“You’re welcome,” Terrance said. “Knowing you, you’ve probably never let anyone do anything like this for you, which is why I didn’t ask, I just did.” He kissed Sasha on the forehead.
“You think you know me, don’t you?”
“Don’t I?” Terrance questioned. “Trust me. I’ve met those chicks who wouldn’t hesitate to furnish their entire house on my dime. I didn’t even have to offer it as a gift to them—hell, they asked me.” He let out a harrumph. “But you, on the other hand, Miss Lady, I knew if I offered, you’d decline. So I didn’t ask. Like I said, I just did.”
Sasha turned to face forward. “Speaking of which, how did you ‘just did’? How in the world did you get into my place?” Sasha turned abruptly to face Terrance again. “Did you secretly make a copy of my key or something? What else you got up in here?” Sasha said jokingly as she began to look around. “Some little microphones and video cameras?” She looked back up at him.
Terrance laughed. “Woman, you crazy, although that might get us our own reality show.”
“I’m serious. You’re the one who I found sitting in my apartment when I got home from work today. An apartment you do not have the key for . . . or do you?” Sasha asked.
“No, I don’t have a key,” Terrance assured her. “I’d never sneak and make a copy of your house key. The property manager let me in.”
“What the?” Sasha said, perturbed. “How he just gon’ let any ole body up in my spot? You could have been a stalker or a killer or something.”
“Well, if an NBA star showed up with ten men named Benjamin, wouldn’t you have turned over the key as well?”
Sasha looked at Terrance, once again outdone by all he’d done for her. Terrance winked.
Sasha smiled. “No, I wouldn’t have. You are something else.” She rubbed the sofa. “I still can’t believe you did all this for me.”
“Well, believe it, because this is just the beginning.”
“Oh, Lord, what’s next?” Sasha asked jokingly.
“Well, I was thinking as I sat here earlier watching the movers carry the furniture up.” Terrance paused, hoping to pique Sasha’s curiosity.
“And what were you thinking?” Sasha said.
“That this type of living room suite belongs in some place much more . . . I don’t know . . .” Terrance chose his words carefully as if wanting to impress Sasha, not offend her.
“Bigger, more expensive?” Sasha saved Terrance by finishing his sentence for him. “A house?”
“Exactly.” Terrance snapped his fingers. “I mean, the matching chair is still on the moving truck. We couldn’t figure out where to put it without making the place seem cramped.”
“There was a chair?” Sasha said excitedly, then realizing that Terrance was right, there was no place in her apartment to put the matching chair, her excitement deflated like a Tom Brady football.
“Yep,” Terrance said, sounding just as disappointed as Sasha. “It was a final purchase, too, so I can’t even get my money back for it.”
“So you just let them take it back to the store?”
“No, of course not.”
“Oh,” Sasha said, relaxing a bit. Prying, she asked, “Well, what are they going to do with it?” Deep inside she imagined him giving it to the real jump-off; her matching chair sitting in some hoochie’s Section 8 apartment.
“I figured I couldn’t break up a set like this, so if the entire set won’t fit into this apartment, then I guess it all needs to go in a house.”
“A house?” Sasha asked. “Whose house?”
Terrance sat up and turned Sasha’s upper body to him. He looked her in the face before he dropped his next bombshell. “To your house, or should I say, our house, if you let it be?”
Sasha paused to read the expression on Terrance’s face. He had to be kidding. “A house? You bought me furniture and a house to put it in?”
“No—I mean yes—well,” Terrance said, trying to put his words together. “Yes, I bought you furniture, but no, I didn’t buy you a house.”
Sasha exhaled. This bomb-ass furniture suite was more than enough. She couldn’t imagine being gifted a house by a man she’d practically just met.
“I was thinking more like my house. Like you move in with me and make it our house?” Terrance said.
Sasha lifted completely up off of him. “Are you crazy?” she asked. It was safe to say that she had definitely not thought before speaking. Those were the exact words that had popped into her head. She’d shoved them
out of the door that verbalized her mental thoughts without even putting a hat and coat on them to make them all warm and fuzzy. Nope, they were just cold. Casey’s and Paris’s ways really was starting to rub off on her.
“As a matter of fact, I am crazy,” Terrance said proudly. “I’m crazy about you, Sasha.”
Sasha could see the genuine excitement in Terrance’s eyes. No other agenda seemed to be hidden behind them. His sincerity truly did melt Sasha’s heart. And if she’d ever had a wall up to protect her heart and mind, it must have been made out of chocolate, because the warmth Terrance was giving off was melting it, too.
“Terrance, I . . .” Sasha’s words trailed off. What could she say to all this? She’d only known Terrance three months and already he was talking about the two of them moving in together. Sure, she’d spent hours talking to him on the phone and they’d FaceTimed, but still, moving in together? She had to get into his head just a bit more. “Terrance, you honestly don’t think we are moving too fast?”
“I’m not trying to be funny, but baby girl, we surpassed moving too fast when you let me hit it on day one.”
That stung Sasha somewhat, and it showed on her face.
“I’m not saying that to make you feel some kind of way,” Terrance said, grabbing her shoulders, “but when something is meant to be, it just happens. We let it happen on night one, so let’s keep letting it happen,” Terrance said. “Or was our first night together not special to you? Do you make it a habit of sleeping with someone you don’t have feelings for, or don’t feel that instant love at first sight for?”
“No, I don’t just sleep with any ole body,” Sasha said, sounding slightly offended because she was.
“And neither do I,” Terrance was glad to say.
“Do you honestly want me to believe that an NBA star who has women throwing it at him twenty-four-seven hasn’t had his share of one-night stands?” Sasha asked in total disbelief.
“No, I don’t want you to believe that, because I have had my share of one-night stands, and they were just that, one-night stands. But you and I clearly are beyond just one night. What we have isn’t a one-night stand kind of a relationship, but a we’re-still-standing kind of relationship.” Terrance took Sasha’s hands into his. “I’m tired of chicks and dating women who just want to be an NBA trophy. I need a partner. Like how Eric and Casey are. Seeing them together made me realize that I want that, too. I’m not coveting another man’s wife, but when I see how down Casey is for Eric, I want someone just like her by my side. You can ask my boy. Believe it or not, I’ve been talking about it with him. And I won’t lie, I’ve even asked Eric to ask Casey if she would hook me up with one of her friends.” He let out a chuckle.
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