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
