Chapter Fourteen
When trying to lose weight it’s not wise to sit and watch the Food Network. Even the grossest looking food will make you hungry.
—Tensanne’s inner thoughts
Tensanne
“OH, GOD. WHO shit in my mouth? Why is the room moving and why is there a marching band in my head?” I whine, prying my tongue from the roof of my mouth. My stomach decides to revolt in a tumultuous roil and grumble. I fly off the bed, rushing to the bathroom, barely making to the toilet when all last night’s fun comes back out as regret. My head pounding with each heave of my body. Flashes of the most vivid dream reveal themselves with each hurling stomach clinch. Kohl, his lips, his touch, his hardness resting so perfectly against me. Each image in fantastic technicolor. I can almost feel his warm lips pressed against mine. I reveal in the pictures that are playing like a dream formed memory when a cool washcloth is placed on my neck causing me to jump back away from the porcelain throne. Standing in the doorway, rumpled and wrinkled is Kohl, hair standing in disarray with a lazy sleepy smirk formed on his plump pink lips.
“Oh, God,” I groan, “Last night wasn’t a dream, was it?”
“You need greasy food and coffee to absorb some of that alcohol flooding your system,” he orders, dodging my question.
At the suggestion of food my stomach purges and bile rises. Crawling my way back to the toilet, I begin to dry heave. My throat is raw, the band playing Revelry in my brain marches on while I grab the toilet seat for leverage against my body expelling what isn’t there. Once the ravaging calms, I roll to my side resting my cheek on the cool tile of the bathroom floor, the chill cooling my heated flesh. Squinting my eyes at the door, Kohl is gone. Maybe he wasn’t there, I think as I drift to sleep.
The smell of bacon and eggs wakes me from my fetal position on the hard tile. My stomach, once again, registering its protest. Rising, my hair is matted with vomit on one side, my mouth tastes of crap and I’m sure my breath is rancid. Kohl once again appears in the room.
“Come on, Tennie Girl, you need to eat,” he encourages reaching for me.
“No, don’t touch me. I’m nasty,” I say finally noticing my clothing or my lack of clothing. “Shit, Kohl. I’m not dressed. Go. I’ll take a shower and be out in a bit.”
Once he’s gone, I ease myself off the floor and stand in the hot stream of the shower. Washing away the vestiges of the night before. Feeling somewhat refreshed, I finish, wrapping my hair in a towel and putting on my robe hanging on the back of the door.
The smell of coffee lures me from the confines of this safe room where I don’t have to face the fact that I may have thrown myself at my best friend and was rejected. It’s time to face the music, I think opening the door, seeing Kohl holding the red potion bottle in his hand.
Raising his twinkling eyes to me he asks, “Are you keeping a little genie in here? If I rub it, will a little half naked woman pop out?”
Grabbing the bottle, I move to the cup of coffee he has waiting for me, placing my everyday dose of two drops in the cup. “It’s a magic potion,” I state setting the bottle back on the desk next to the other bottle. Humming in pleasure when the warm liquid hits my battered throat.
“A magic potion?” he asks raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean it’s a magic potion?”
I explain the gypsy woman and the little shop. Giving him each detail about believing and how it supposed to work.
“You believe all that?” he asks, rocking back on his heels with his hands in his back pockets.
“I didn’t at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I thought ‘why the hell not’. Believing in magic couldn’t hurt. Dr. P says a simple belief in something can have a tremendous physical effect in restoring control over certain situations. Believing puts the power back in my hands. Since I started the potion I have become friends with you, became fit and lost some weight and I’m feeling more secure in my own skin. Whether the potion is actual magic or not, the effects are the same. My belief in it has changed my life, it has made feel beautiful, strong and determined.”
Clasping my face in his hands he peers into my eyes. His blue orbs beaming warmth into me, “You are irresistible, Ten. Your beauty is not all on the outside. There is so much more to you than an appealing face. You’re sweet, kind and off the charts smart. Your heart is the size of Texas and you love with all of it. You smile and make everyone smile with you. It’s always been there. But if that potion makes you feel everything I see, what I have seen from the beginning; you use all you want.”
Pulling from his grasp to stop the heat creeping along my skin, I have to know if last night was real or my overactive brain, “How long have you been here? Did you get in this morning?”
* * *
Kohl
My brain screams at me to lie. She doesn’t remember last night and I’m not certain I should tell her. Judging by the mortification on her face, she’s not ready for the truth, yet.
“Yes, I came in early this morning to bring you your Christmas present,” I lie.
Her shoulders relax, she takes a deep breath and smiles, “A present? You got me a present?”
“Of course,” I reply pulling the envelope from my back pocket and handing it to her.
Turning the envelope over in her hand, “What is it?”
“Open it and see, silly girl.”
She meticulously slides her finger under the seal of the envelope. Pulling open the pouch and peeking inside. Crinkling her brow, she pulls out the card inside, reading it out loud.
“Mirage Custom Made Dresses. This entitles you to one custom made Mirage gown of your choosing.”
“You got me a dress?” she asks, a tear trickling down her cheek.
When I asked her to be my date for New Year’s my plan was to hang out in one of our rooms then she asked me to go with her to the Mayor’s party. I had no idea what to get Ten for Christmas, I didn’t want to get her something lame and now she worked at the coffee shop so it shot my gift card idea in the ass. I did what any man would do when in need of gift ideas. I asked her best friend and roommate. If anyone knew what she would want it would be Ronnie.
Ronnie told me how Ten hates to shop and she would never buy a dress for the party. She recommended a dress shop in town and I scraped all my money together so Tensanne Craig will feel like a princess and the happiness on her face makes it worth every penny spent.
Wiping her tear with my finger, I pull her into my chest. Her head resting right below my chin, I inhale the citrus scent of her hair deep into my lungs, “A custom, made to only fit, Tensanne dress. But this dress is for Ronnie’s New Year’s Eve bash, so you need to get to the dress shop as soon as possible to get it started. The lady assured me they could have it done in time.”
She pulls from me and I miss her warmth. “I have something for you, too,” she sings going to her desk, pulling a small gold box with a huge red bow on top, out of the top drawer and handing it to me. “I know you’re going to love this.”
I shake the box; it makes no sound. Bouncing back and forth on her feet, her excitement palpable. “Open it, already,” she pleads. Making me wonder what she could have gotten me that would bring her this much excitement. Deciding to torture her a little bit longer, I take my time pulling the tab on one side of the bow, slowly releasing it from the box. Easing the lid open on one end, she picks up on what I’m doing, exclaiming, “Get it open already, man.” Laughing I lift the lid the rest of the way off, immediately recognizing the yellow and blue logo on the small slips of card stock paper.
“No way,” I whisper, “Indiana Pacer tickets?”
Pulling them from the envelope a small slip of blue and yellow paper falls out, lofting to the floor. “You’re going to want to see that sheet, too,” she lilts with a smile lighting all the way to her sweet chocolate eyes. Bending I pick up the slip, reading the words,
“You are invited to join Paul George and the visiting Stephen Curry as they take the court for pregame warm-ups. Arrive at Banker’s Life Field House at 6 p.m., to partake in this wonderful opportunity.”
I’m speechless, gasping puffs of air from my mouth opening and closing are the only sounds in the room. I need a minute to register what I read.
“You get to play ball with them, Kohl. I don’t know who those players are but the man that sold me the tickets assured me you would know them and be one happy man,” she explains proudly.
Grabbing her around the waist I jerk her to my body, crushing my lips to hers. Begging her mouth for entrance with my tongue pushing at the seam. Tongues and teeth collide, hands flying everywhere and anywhere. When oxygen leaves my body and a moan leaves hers I pull back. Her face is flushed, her eyes are lustfully half open, her pupils huge, her lips red from my bruising kiss. Her chest heaving with each rapid breath.
“W-w-what was that for?” she asks, bringing her hand to her cherry lips.
“This is the best gift anyone has ever gotten me. I can’t believe you did this. How did you do this? This must have cost a fortune,” I acknowledge, stepping back to put some space between us before I grab her again to thank her more thoroughly with my tongue between her thighs.
Shrugging she responds, “Archer, from the coffee shop, helped me. His dad had some connections within the Pacer’s organization. He was able to set it all up for me and he’s going to take a little bit every week out of my check.”
I love the gift she got me, but when she says Archer helped her get it, rage filters through my blood. Archer Boyd is the last man I want to help Ten. His reputation on campus is worse than mine. He’s a known playboy with his boyish charm and sweet artist demeanor, I don’t want him sniffing around my Tennie Girl.
“Are you okay? Your face is red and I can see your pulse pounding in your neck.”
Shaking out the rage, “I’m fine, I just don’t know how to thank you for this. This is everything. I have dreamed of seeing the Pacer’s since I was a little boy learning to dribble the ball. I wanted to be the next Reggie Miller. He was my idol.”
“Seeing you this happy is all the thanks I need.”
“You’re going with me, right?”
“You want me to go to the game with you? I don’t know anything about basketball.”
“I wouldn’t want to share it with anyone else.”
“Really,” she asks with a smile. “I would love to go.”
“I’m still at a loss for words,” stunned shaking my head, “But you need to FaceTime Ronnie. She insisted once you were up and moving you contact her so she can give you her gift.”
Grabbing her phone, she pulls up her contacts and presses Ronnie’s name, the signature jingle fills the room until it connects and Ronnie’s face lights up the screen.
“Hey, baby girl. How are you feeling this morning?”
“This morning was rough. I’m starting to feel a little less like a blob of goo on the floor but I still have a marching band playing in my head. Remind me to never drink that much again. I’m glad that Kohl stopped in this morning to peel me off the bathroom floor or I would probably still be dying there.”
Laughing, Ronnie questions skeptically, “Kohl came in this morning?”
“Yes, he was here to witness the purging of all things peppermint and then some, from my body.”
“Kohl?”
Stepping behind Ten so she can see us both on the screen, I try as hard as I can to convey to Ronnie, with my eyes, not to divulge the truth about my arrival last night. Ronnie knows I was here because I responded to a text she sent to Ten asking how she was doing after she passed out. “Yes, I’m here.”
“In the drawer beside my bed is a little blue box, could you get it and give to Ten please?”
Moving across the room I grab the box she described out of the drawer, walking it back and handing it to Tensanne.
“Open it,” she instructs.
Pulling the bow, Ten opens the box. Pushing her glasses up on her nose in the cute way she does, she removes a sheet of paper from the box. Her eyes move to the sheet then to Ronnie on the screen, her forehead crinkled and lips pursed in confusion, she asks, “Ronnie, what is this?”
“What does it say it is?” I ask.
Reading the card, she mumbles, “You have an appointment set for Monday, December 29 at 8 a.m. with Doctor Greg Camp D.O. for an eye exam and contact fitting. Also, available to be scheduled at the patient’s discretion is LASIK surgery.” Her eyes widen, moving to me and back to the phone, “What exactly am I reading Ronnie?”
“You have an appointment Monday morning to get contacts. Then, as a gift from my dad, if you are interested, you can schedule LASIK surgery so you should never have to wear glasses again. If you decide to not do the surgery, you are supposed to ask for the money to be refunded and my dad said you are to take the money and buy yourself something great. It’s not to be spent on anything you need; you have been ordered to buy something frivolous,” she beams.
Tears stream down her cheeks, “This is too much. I can’t accept this.”
“You can and you will. You know my dad never takes no for an answer. He expects to see you at the party Wednesday night sans glasses. Did Kohl give you his gift?”
Wiping her cheeks, sniffling her nose, she responds, “Yes, I’m going tomorrow to get fitted for the dress.”
“Good, good. Wednesday morning, I will come get you and together we will go and get my gift to you. We are spending the morning at the spa. Complete make-overs and royalty treatment for both of us. Head to toe pampering. I promise to have you back in time for Kohl to pick you up.”
“I have to go, Ron. I need be at work in an hour. I have no idea how to thank you and your dad for this. I will give my gift to you when I see you this week. I love you, Ron. Hug your dad for me and I will see you soon,” she says blowing a kiss to the screen.
“I’m overwhelmed. I don’t know what to say,” she whispers to me wiping her face and taking a deep breath, “I need to get ready to make coffee for the masses.”
Pulling her to me, I embrace her in a huge squeezing bear hug. “I need to get my mom’s car back. Make sure you get to the dress store in the morning. Will you be ok here, by yourself?”
“Yes, big brother Kohl. I will be fine here by myself. I can always hang out with Archer and Leah or I can call Wren and see what he’s doing.”
My thoughts are anything but that of a big brother, a growl rumbles out at the thought of her spending more time with Archer and I don’t want her near Wren.
Mine, she is mine, my inner caveman rages.
“I can come back. I’ll take mom’s car back and have them drive me back to campus. I can be back before you get off work.”
“No, absolutely not. You enjoy the rest of break. Spend time with your family, I will see you New Year’s, Eve. I will be fine, Kohl.”
“Fine,” I pout, kissing her on the cheek. I leave. My mind telling me I need to stay. My body urging me to take her to bed and never crawl out. I do neither.