Page 7 of Summer in London

chapter

four

Celine eyed A’ja with a hopeful expression on her face. One that A’ja was trying to ignore, but Celine wasn’t letting up. A’ja shook her head. “I absolutely don’t want to be a third wheel.”

“Well invite one of these other bitches,” Celine suggested making A’ja giggle.

Celine felt the same way A’ja did. The girls were cool, but A’ja was the only one she considered a friend.

“I’ll invite, Diane. How about that?”

“Fine,” A’ja sighed.

She wasn’t that hyped to hang out with any of the girls outside of practice, because she didn’t want to answer any, ‘ How’s Kenyatta questions ?’

A’ja was still taking baby steps and not ready to talk about her divorce with others.

It was embarrassing. Her marriage had failed.

She knew everyone would automatically think he’d cheated, and that wasn’t the case.

A’ja didn’t even know why she gave a damn what anyone would think.

Celine invited her out to Lark. A popular hookah spot, and she mentioned that Marlow was tagging along.

A’ja had been the third wheel before. Marlow was cool, and she never felt uncomfortable around him.

She generally didn’t care about being the third wheel.

Now, she just didn’t want to watch them being happy in love while she drank her pain away and tried to enjoy herself when she really wanted to be at home crying her eyes out.

Celine walked over to Diane while A’ja gathered her things. She was back in less than a minute with a wide grin on her face. “Lark tonight at nine. No excuses,” she stated sternly.

“I’ll be there, Celine.” She rolled her eyes, and they exited the locker room.

When she wasn’t at practice, A’ja was either at her temporary home or roaming the streets of London by herself.

Life was boring as fuck. Every day that A’ja opened her eyes, she tried to start the day by counting her blessings, but that didn’t stop misery from creeping its’ way into her soul and making her spend the rest of the day deep in her feelings.

As she settled into the cab, A’ja thought about Naasson.

The fine ass man that she met in the café.

Out of all the years she’d been coming to London, she had never met an American, a fine ass American man from North Carolina.

He was in town for a few months, and he was single.

By law, she was still a married woman, so dealing with this man would still be cheating. But A’ja had done things the right way.

She prayed for her marriage often throughout the years, and all those prayers were wasted because the shit was still over.

Why not let loose and have some fun because doing shit by the book never guaranteed that the shit would work out.

They were both single, and he was fine as hell.

Maybe they could keep each other company.

A’ja didn’t want to get too ahead of herself.

Back at home, she ate leftovers because she was always famished after practice, and she made sure to get her water in.

With all the physical work she put in, being dehydrated was a no no.

Plus, she knew she was going to have quite a few drinks later, and she wanted to be ready for that.

When she was done eating, A’ja took a shower and crawled into bed.

She set her alarm and was out like a light.

When the alarm went off, A’ja pushed out a deep sigh and flaking on Celine crossed her mind.

After she thought about it for a few seconds, A’ja tossed the covers back and got out of bed.

Sitting in the house alone being all sad and depressed wasn’t her idea of fun.

Why not get out and live her life? The divorce was going to happen either way.

She’d given herself time to process her feelings. Now, she was going to keep living.

A’ja pulled her cosmetics bag out, sat at the vanity, and beat her face.

She then put on a sleeveless, black, leather dress that stopped above her knees and flared out at the bottom some.

The place they were going to was a hookah lounge, but it got deep, and it was lit, so A’ja wanted to be cute.

She chose black heels, and she put her braids in a half up half down style.

A’ja called a cab before spraying some perfume and adding earrings and rings to her body to finish off her look.

Her cab arrived just as she was turning off the light in the bedroom.

The hookah lounge was nine miles away from the flat, and A’ja was glad that she wasn’t too far away from everything.

She was also glad that just enough people recognized her when she was out that sometimes she got treated like a celebrity, but she also liked that not so many people recognized her that she was hesitant to go out alone.

Because in London that’s what she was most times. Alone.

A’ja thanked the driver with a smile as she paid him and exited the cab when he pulled up at Lark.

A’ja texted Celine while she ignored a few cat calls.

She didn’t care that the divorce wasn’t final, in her mind, she was single, but that didn’t mean she was looking to pass her time with just anybody.

It had been so long since she dated anyone besides Kenyatta or gave her body to anyone besides him that she almost felt lost. She wasn’t about to be out in the streets on her hot girl shit.

She wasn’t above having a lil’ fling, but she would be very selective with choosing.

One thing she loved about the men in London were their accents.

Almost anything they said made her panties moist but when they used the term, ‘bruv’ it did something to her.

There were some gorgeous men in London, but A’ja was reserved and guarded.

A man needed to have much more than good looks to get her to let her guard down.

“A’ja boooo,” A’ja looked up and saw Celine and Marlow walking up the sidewalk.

Celine had a wide smile on her face, and she looked amazing in white jeans that looked painted on and a white, lace bodysuit.

If it was one thing basketball did, it had the ladies looking right.

Celine was in such good shape after she had her son that her stomach was back flat literally three days after she pushed him out.

“Hi,” A’ja hugged Celine and waved at Marlow.

The small group entered the lounge and was seated right away. It was pretty full but not packed to capacity. They ordered drinks and hookah, and A’ja scanned her surroundings.

“I spoke to Diane before I left. She said Keasia was acting stank, but she was still coming.”

A’ja rolled her eyes because it wouldn’t be surprising if she didn’t come.

Diane and her wife Keasia were the most toxic couple that A’ja knew.

Keasia was jealous of any woman with a pulse.

Diane must’ve been a true pussy hound because she damn sure wasn’t that pretty that her wife shouldn’t want her around women period.

It didn’t even matter if the women were straight.

If Diane and another woman so much as made eye contact, it set Keasia off.

Being around them was draining and embarrassing.

If Keasia was coming, then A’ja hoped Diane wouldn’t show up. She’d rather just be a third wheel.

“Ah hell nah let them stay home,” Marlow declared, and A’ja snickered. He felt the same way she did.

They had barely even gotten their drinks, and Celine was already grinding on Marlow and doing the most. That was her man, and that was her right.

But it was also why A’ja hadn’t really wanted to come.

She continued to eye the crowd while she sipped her drink through a straw, and something caught her eye and made her drink go down the wrong way.

A’ja set the cup down and damn near coughed up a lung while she gasped for air like a fish out of water.

Celine handed her a napkin because tears were streaming down her face.

Thank God the music was loud because she would have been embarrassed as hell for half the lounge to be gawking at her.

“Damn. You okay?” Celine asked concerned when A’ja could finally breathe.

“Yeah. My drink just went down the wrong pipe.” She dabbed her face with the napkin.

A’ja looked up and fine ass Naasson was looking at her.

Her face flushed with embarrassment, and she busied herself with the waitress that came over to the table with the hookah in tow.

A’ja took that opportunity to order another drink and by the time the waitress walked away, Naasson was nearing the table.

Her breath caught in her throat as he approached with a smirk.

“Small world for real.”

A’ja offered him a smile. “Yeah, it is. I’m assuming there’s a reason that we keep running into each other.”

“I’d have to agree. London isn’t exactly small, but we keep crossing paths. It has to be for a reason. May I?” he asked, nodding towards an empty seat.

“Sure.”

“I was planning on calling you but to be honest, I don’t know. I just didn’t want to come off as thirsty. I was still trying to figure out when a good time to call would be.”

A’ja finished off her drink, and she was a little tipsy and less reserved.

“It’s cool. If I’m being all the way honest, I appreciate the fact that you’re moving kind of slow.

I’m actually in the middle of a divorce, and I’m still going through the grieving process.

Like, I want some motion to prove to myself I still got it, but I’m kind of scared of motion if that makes sense. ”

Naasson chuckled. “Ain’t no way you could have thought you ever lost it. I’m sorry to hear that, but baby, you’ll always be able to have motion. Believe that,” he licked his lips, and A’ja smiled.

“Thank you. You have to know you’re handsome. Handsome as hell. If there’s anything that helps a woman’s heartbreak, it’s being approached by a gorgeous man.”