Chapter 12 THIS SUCKS

EVE

Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I hum to myself while rifling through the clothes in my wardrobe. "Slutty or classy?" I whisper to myself.

I decide to go with a little bit of both. I pick out a green dress that's been in my wardrobe for almost six months but

never worn. I remember at the time I bought it, I didn't particularly have anywhere to wear it to.

When I bought this dress at the boutique, I never tried it on. The colour attracted me, but when I got back home and slipped into it, I almost had a heart attack. It showed every single curve, dip, and angle on my body --- that freaked me out, so I just shoved it to the back of my wardrobe.

Now that I'm trying to come out of my shy - shell, as Ebere always puts it, I'm more than ready to get daring.

I shimmy into it and notice it's not exactly a tight fit, but it still shows all my curves. I remember all the food I've played with over the past few days, all because of a lack of appetite.

Plopping down in front of the dressing mirror, I decide against doing anything to my hair which is already freshly washed. After applying some conditioner to soften it, I spray some water on it for moisture and then add a fancy Alice band with a cute little bow on the side. I fluff it up a bit and it's ready.

Good thing I look good without much make up because I only apply shiny nude lip gloss to my lips and some white powder to my face.

No Ebere, not every girl needs foundation on their faces.

I finish my look with strappy heels that adds about four more inches to my height.

I don't have the time to check myself out in front of the mirror, because I get the call I've been waiting for.

* * *

I stare at him from across the table, his white dress shirt looks immaculate and his white goatee seems to have been groomed recently. He catches my eyes and smiles at me - pearly white teeth gleaming.

Nice smile - if you're into lopsided smiles.

"How's the soup?" He puts down his spoon and looks at me, giving me all his attention.

Such a gentleman!

"It's nice, Mr. Fa ----" I begin.

"Just call me Femi, please." That lopsided smile again. Cute!

I smile back at him and we continue eating in silence. The spread on the table makes my stomach queasy. He didn't hold anything back - There's a full course meal of stir-fried tofu with rice, chicken with chestnuts, spring rolls, and hot and sour soup as dessert.

I skip all the heavy stuff and dabble instead, with the soup. It's the only thing I can stomach right now. Anyone would think I'm pregnant and can't keep down my food, but I'm wound up as tight as a clock from nerves.

Do the same commandments apply to Mr. Faseun or a different set? I wonder. He seems like a really nice gentleman -- very attentive. He's checking all the boxes with his attitude. I decide to hold off from playing any games with him... for now.

This instantly releases the pent - up emotions I'd been holding in. I breathe out, expelling air. He notices this and puts his spoon down again, gently dabbing at the edges of his lips with a napkin.

"Is there something you want to talk to me about?" He looks at me with concern, a smile on his face.

Way to go!

You'll never go wrong by giving a woman 100% attention.

"Um... no, why would you ask that?" I return his smile.

"You seem... distant and you haven't tasted any of the food in front of you. It's really delicious. Here, taste this." He gives me a morsel of chicken from his own plate.

I taste it tentatively, inching up from my chair in the process.

He's right! It is delicious.

He keeps feeding me tidbits - little size bites in between mundane conversation. Before long, his plate is empty, all of it's in my stomach and I'm feeling pleasantly full.

Well, this is embarrassing!

It's kind of difficult looking at him now, knowing full well I'm responsible for the empty plate staring at him.

"You tricked me!" I point at him accusingly, realisation dawning on me.

He's sipping wine but when he hears this, he smiles conspiratorially. I can't help but smile back. Before long, we're both laughing out loud. His laughter booms out loud and strong, eliciting a few heads to look our way enquiringly.

I catch the wayward eyes of a woman giving him the once over. She probably wishes she's in my place right now.

Too bad!

I'm absolutely relaxed now, just enjoying the moment, that's obviously because he makes everything seem so easy.

If only it were this easy with Batman. With him, it's passion, excitement, and terrifying lust. My face takes up a somber look as I get lost with thoughts of him.

Mr. Faseun gets up and gently takes my hand in his. "Let's go to the bar section, I'm sure we'll be more comfortable there."

I get up and follow him, my hand still in his. He sits me down on a chair and takes a seat opposite me.

"Some wine, perhaps?" He asks, a smile on his lips.

Always smiling!

I bob my head in answer.

He calls on a waiter to bring a 2009 Moet & Chandon, Dom Perignon. Clearly, this man is sparing no expenses today. I seat back and watch as he opens it with a flourish, takes a whiff of it, and exhales. As he pours some into two flute glasses, he begins to explain it's qualities.

"Did you know, that Dom Perignon was named after a monk?" It takes me some time to realise it was a rhetorical question as he goes ahead to explain further. "It's a very stylish and seductive bottle which draws you in, and when you taste the liquid inside, it's very open and expressive, mainly because of the delicate ripe fruit with some hints of honey and a touch of crisp grapefruit."

This man knows a lot about champagne, I think fleetingly.

He lifts our glasses, gives one to me and we clink.

"To you!" He declares.

We smile at each other over the rim of our glasses, wondering where 'this' will lead.

The evening becomes a blur thereafter. At one point, we are talking about Deuce manufacturing company, and the next, he's talking about his past marriage - how he wishes things were different and how he could change the past, but he's happy he's in the present because he met me.

Coming from other men, it would have sounded really corny, but from him, it sounds quite sincere. Pity I don't feel that pull with him.

The evening stretches on into the night and I stifle a yawn and struggle to keep my mind on his words, but frankly speaking, the champagne has begun to take its toll on me.

Suddenly I see Batman sitting close to me. Looks like my mind is playing tricks on me.

I swipe my palm across my eyes but when I open them, he's still there, looking at me with an amused smirk on his face. He's also got that intensity in his eyes -- the way he looks at me when he wants to kiss me.

Whew! Let's get it on then, 'cos I'm so ready.

He speaks to me, but I can't hear a word of what he's saying. I just need him to kiss me so badly. Seems he understands what my body wants because we gravitate towards each other at the same time.

He leans close to me and whispers sweet nothing's into my ears, his brown lips tickling the nape of my neck and making me shiver involuntarily.

This feels like heaven!

I giggle at nothing in particular, as sweet tendrils of desire spring up in my core fiercely, and I ball my fists because I'm itching to touch him. Slowly, tentatively, I lift them up, tracing his bearded jaw as his face descends towards mine.

It's strange, but right before we smack lips, I see a white goatee peeking at me and I rear back instinctively. Hold on! what's going on here?

I close my eyes to still the sudden dizziness engulfing me.

When I open them again, Mr. Faseun is staring at me, concern etched on his face.

I shake my head to rid it of the alcoholic haze that seems to be enshrouding it.

"I... I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me." I stammer, feeling confused.

Mr. Faseun looks at me, embarrassment written all over his face. "No ... It's fine. I wasn't trying to take advantage of you. Just that the mood seemed right and we have some champagne in our bellies, so I just thought..." He peters off lamely.

Awkward!

Where did Batman go?!

I look around me, but no one seems to be in our booth except us.

This can't actually be happening to me.

Was I actually hallucinating he was Batman?

What type of sorcery is this?

The evening goes downhill thereafter.

I plead a terrible headache which isn't far from the truth, so Mr. Faseun takes me home, all the while apologizing profusely and me getting more irritated by the minute.

Honestly, I'm already over it all.

The ride home is silent. I rest my head against the car seat and wish I was in Batman's arms.

Great! I really do have it bad!

We say our goodbyes at the door and I scurry inside the house.

Bad ending to a great start!

SEGUN

Sitting on the bonnet of my car after a bout of heavy workouts, I'm all sweaty and breathing heavily. The earphones around my ears cordon me off from the world as Tupac croons a song to his dear mama.

I tip back the bottle of Hennessy into my mouth and sigh happily.

Hennessy and I have come a long way - I got introduced to this special liquor when I was in Michigan, studying at the university.

There was a gang of neighborhood around - the - way friends that always wanted me to hang with them. They made money from the drugs they sold on street corners. They took a liking to me and always bought me drinks.

The cold was crazy!

I'd walk down two blocks in the snow with them to take some shots at the local bar down my street. This helped clear the chill from my body because we didn't have central heating in the house.

I always got back home after midnight, smelling like a brewery and dazed out of my head after a drinking bout with my friends.

Mum was always beside herself with worry. She'd look at me with those brown eyes of hers that had little crow's feet at the edges. I'd flash her my special smile - the one reserved for her only and she'd reciprocate with a tired one of her's - the type that said so many things at the same time without her having to say anything at all.

We didn't have much money to buy food or any other thing at that - we were always scrounging, barely able to make ends meet. Mum would look for food tickets so we could eat at least one decent meal a day.

If not for the scholarship I got as a result of the brains God gave me, I doubt I'd have been able to bag a degree and been where I am today.

I always wondered why she never got remarried.

Dad walked out on us when we were dirt poor and so we had to scrounge for every little thing we had. Mum struggled, never once thinking she had to give me away or that I was a burden to her.

When I grew older, enough to realise that she needed someone to love and protect her and that I needed a father figure to look up to and guide me, I started pestering her to get a man.

Yeah, she did meet a man eventually; one who she actually thought was nice. She went on and on about how sweet and kind he was, but a warning bell instantly rang out in my head because we lived in a bad neighborhood, and men around that area were always up to no good.

It really didn't matter that she'd met him in church. Bad people attend churches too, right? I'd said nothing because I knew he'd show his true colours sooner than later.

Either he wanted to get her in the sack or he wanted her as a meal ticket or both.

Whichever way, it would be a lose-lose situation for him because I'd never allow that to happen.

She brought him home one cold, dreary morning while I was in my room with a chick. We were about to get down when I heard mum's laughter, it was quickly followed by a man's deep one.

My lil' boy got deflated immediately.

The chick was quite disappointed and walked out in a huff.

I was livid!

I had stormed out of my room with fire in my eyes and a storm brewing in my heart.

On getting to the sitting room, I saw the man mum claimed was nice, and I immediately knew something bad was going to happen to her and I wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about it.

The shrill ringing of my phone wrenches me from the past and I bring it out of my track down without first checking who it is.

Bad habit - I know!

"Hello..." I answer uncertainly.

I hope it's not Chioma.

"Hi, Batman."

Her voice should be recorded for the instant gratification of men with low libidos, it's that seductive - no jokes!

I jump down from the bonnet of my car and begin to wear my front porch clean.

I'm excited and nervous, all at the same time and it's never happened to me before, well, not since...

"Were you sleeping?" She asks softly.

I'm spell bound, hypnotised by her sweet melodious voice.

I'm trying to get the words out of my mouth but they're stuck.

When I eventually speak, a squeak comes out, just like a cornered rat - she's got me tongue tied!

"Hey! Cat got your tongue?" She teases.

Oh Eve, the things I want to do to you.

"Hey!" I squeak, but I clear my throat and speak up. "What's up?"

I feign nonchalance, but we both know I'm struggling here.

"Um... Are you home?"

For some seconds I struggle to understand if I heard her correctly.

"Give me your address, I'm coming over." She continues.

Did I just hear her correctly or my ears are playing tricks on me?

She lets out a seductive laugh and I practically melt.

"I'm beginning to think you don't want to see me." She continues.

"No, never! I didn't . . . It's. . . You're always welcome to come over." I finish lamely. I'm feeling more brave as I continue speaking. "Of course I want to see you, more than you want to see me. I mean, you don't know how much I've . . ."

Shit!

She laughs again and I immediately have erotic visions of her mouth doing things to me. I shake off the vision and concentrate on what she's saying.

"Just text it," she cuts in, a pause and then. "Okay?"

I nod to myself, like she can see me.

Dumb ass!!!

"Yeah, sure." I say offhandedly, a bit too quickly.

Yeah that's me, the eager one!

I stare at my phone for almost a minute, wondering what on earth just happened.

She's coming over... now?

I feverishly text her my address and rush into my flat.

The sitting room is in a little mess from yesterday - Dipo and a few other friends came over and it turned into a drinking competition. Someone got sloppy with a bottle - Let's just say its contents are all over the floor. Now the smell of liquor is pungent in the air.

Shit!

I'm almost in a frenzy as I pack the glass shards from the ground. Some broken glass finds it's way into my left thumb - ouch!

I stick it in my mouth and continue working.

Scrubbing the stain from the floor proves a bit of a feat because I have to exert pressure on the brush with my two hands. This affects my thumb and damn, it's still sore.

But I man up and grit my teeth, shutting out the pain, all the while telling myself Eve is worth it - every last bit of it.

When I'm done, I dust the chairs and fluff up the puffs. A little air freshener ties it up, leaving the air smelling fresh.

That's that!

Room check, next!

Damn! Clothes are strewn on the bed and floor, no care for tidiness - that's me.

Shaking my head in disappointment at myself, I begin clearing them up, putting the dirty one's in the hamper and clean one's in the wardrobe.

Making my bed is easy, until I get to the part where I have to arrange the duvet, with the corners folded up. It's always been a bit of a difficult task for me, so I end up abandoning it in one corner of my bed.

I rush into the bath to clean off the grime and sweat from all my activities. When I'm through, I decide to cook something light to eat. I make my go - to food; noodles with lots of pepper and onions.

It's 12pm already - with alcohol in my system and the heavy work out, I'm famished.

I set the table for two and wait.

Breakfast ready, jeans and tee's popping, perfume wafting in the air, light soft music in the background and I'm just chilling, acting like this is how cool I am every day.

The shitty thing about anticipation is it winds you up so badly, that you're almost out of your mind with nerves.

Time flies and I loose awareness of my surroundings because soon enough, I'm lolled to sleep.

Next thing I know, I feel a light tap on my shoulder.

Opening my eyes slowly, I encounter beautiful almond - shaped eyes peeping from above me.

For five seconds, my heart stops beating!

When it picks up again, it's at a frantic pace and I'm left almost gasping as I stare at her.

Her smile is demure and at the same time full of hidden promises. Her dimples are on display - like shooting stars. So deep and prominent are they, that I stop myself from dipping my fingers in them to test their depths.

I stare at her some more, drinking her in with my eyes.

We don’t speak; we only stare at each other, letting our eyes do the talking.

Passion... like a whirlwind...

... a hurricane.

Like a storm...

... swirls in her eyes and I want to be sucked in deep!

She says the next thing that leaves me speechless.

"Let's have sex!"