Page 18 of Summer in London

Disha inhaled a deep breath through her nose. She promised herself that she would try to remain calm. “You said a lot. But you didn’t answer the question.”

“Yeah, Disha. I kicked it with someone.”

She chuckled sarcastically. “Youkickedit with someone. Is kicked it code for fucked?” she stared at him with anger blazing in her eyes.

“Disha, does it matter?” Naasson raised his voice an octave. “What does knowing whether or not I stuck dick to someone else going to do for you?”

“It’s going to do a lot. Like make me realize that you aren’t just in London laying low. You’re running after women and having the time of your life while I’m back home hoping that you won’t be sentenced to hard time in prison. I guess I played the hell out of myself.” Disha sucked her teeth.

Naasson ran his hand over his hair while blowing out a breath of frustration. If this was how Disha wanted to spend her last night in London, then so be it, but he wasn’t apologizing for shit.

“I’m a single man, and the fact that I might have to end up doing hard time in prison is the reason it makes sense to interact with the opposite sex. I mean, the moment I got in trouble, you jumped ship anyway. You never even pretended like you were going to hold me down. But I’m wrong for linking with someone that I met?”

Disha’s jaw slacked. “Are you serious right now, Naasson? That’s how you really feel?” she screeched. “I asked you what was I supposed to do, andyoutold me to go live my life. Now, you’re mad at me for doing what you told me to do.”

“I don’t want to argue. I swear I don’t. You asking me about the next female isn’t going to do anything for you. I’m single, and I refuse to lie about hooking up with someone. Now, you want to beef about it, or you want to enjoy your last night here?”

Disha was perplexed. Maybe she could have pretended that she was going to ride for her man when shit hit the fan. Maybe she should have been more concerned with what he had going on versus him missing her dinner. Disha knew that she’d been selfish, and she was regretting it. Whether they could ever be together long term or not, the fact remained that Naasson was the best lover that she ever had in more ways than one. Her knowing that there was another woman out there somewhere interacting with Naasson on an intimate level made her angry. And it hurt her at the same time.

“Sure why not?” she snapped and stood up.

Naasson shook his head and stood up as well. Some last night this was about to be, but he wasn’t in the wrong, and he refused to pretend that he was. It bothered him that A’ja never returned his text message. He knew she was probably in her feelings, and he couldn’t blame her. Not when he’d acted the way he had. Naasson had no intention of falling for A’ja but at the moment, he damn near wanted Disha to get mad and storm away, so he could go to A’ja. He wanted to hear her voice. Peer into her eyes. Stroke her walls. All the things he’d been doing with Disha, but he felt the exact same way she did. It wasn’t hitting the same.

One thing that truly annoyed him was he’d finally found an art gallery to go to, and Disha didn’t want to go. For as bougie and classy as she tried to be, it blew him that when he expressed an interest in something that he wanted to do, that didn’t involveghetto antics, she refused. Naasson was realizing more and more how selfish Disha could be. Naasson knew it was going to be a long night, and he just wanted to get it over with.

“Benson.”

A’ja wasn’t surprised to hear Coach James calling her after practice, and she had a feeling that Coach James wasn’t calling her to praise the way she’d performed in practice. A’ja turned around and faced her coach.

“Is everything okay?” The sympathetic look in the coach’s eyes actually stunned A’ja. She’d been willing to bet money that coach was ready to rip her a new one.

“Everything is fine. I’m just a little tired, but that’s not an excuse. Tomorrow will be a better day.”

Coach James didn’t respond immediately. She stared for a moment, and it was freaking A’ja out. She was used to Coach James having a bitch fit if her players were anything less than perfect.

“You started this season out strong. You’ve been at the top of your game, and I couldn’t be more proud. I want my players to be on top of their game, but I don’t expect you to be superhuman or even perfect. Don’t forget to take care of yourself. If you need some time, I’ll give you that. But I won’t know what you need if you don’t tell me.”

A’ja gave a slight nod, but she was still perplexed. Damn, was it that visible that she’d been going through? A’ja was pissed at herself for not following her original plans and staying away from men. The confidence booster that Naasson provided her was very brief and when it was over, it reminded her of the stingof rejection that she felt from Kenyatta. It reminded her of her impending divorce, and the sadness returned.

A’ja wanted to wake up one day and be okay. She wanted to wake up one day and be healed from heartbreak. She knew the process might be a long one, and she didn’t have the desire to go through it. She didn’t have a choice, however. A’ja blinked back tears in the cab on the way home from practice. A’ja’s brows furrowed when she got home, and she spotted a large box outside her door. She hadn’t ordered anything, so she was curious as to what it was. She peered at the huge object and saw that it indeed had her name and her address on it, but there was no address listed for the sender.

A’ja dragged the box inside and looked in the kitchen for a box cutter. The size of the box had her anxious and excited to know what was inside. Her jaw slacked as she opened the box and pulled out a large canvas wrapped in paper. When she unwrapped the paper, her heart fluttered as she eyed the painting on the canvas. The painting was of a woman walking down an outside basketball court. She was bouncing a ball, while glancing up and peering at something in the distance. The person she was peering at, was a gorgeous black man that was watching her just as intensely as she was watching him. The way the man in the picture was biting his bottom lip, the sparkle in his eyes, it was clear as day that he was enthralled with the woman. A woman that made a smile stretch across A’ja’s face because the woman wasn’t her, but she damn sure looked enough like A’ja that she did a double take when she first lay eyes on the canvas.

If this was how Naasson apologized, she was loving it. A’ja stared at the picture for about five minutes, before she placed it on the couch. With a smile still on her face, she walked into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine. A’ja hadn’t been drinking because she was tired of getting tipsy and being sad. Alcoholseemed to intensify her emotions, and A’ja was sick to death of that, so she had been refraining. With the way she’d been playing and as tired as she’d been, A’ja decided that she would keep it at a minimum of two glasses.

Calling or texting Naasson to thank him for the painting crossed her mind, but she just wasn’t ready. A deep sigh pushed from her throat as she sat on the couch, sipped her wine, and stared at the painting. Naasson was so talented that it was insane. A’ja finally tore her eyes away from the painting long enough to order food. She was famished, but she didn’t feel like cooking. Five minutes after she ordered the food, there was a knock at the door, and her eyes narrowed because she knew there was no way the food had arrived that fast.

A’ja placed her wine goblet on the coffee table and went over to the door. When she peeked out of the blinds and saw that Naasson was standing at the door, her heart began to race. With a lick of her suddenly dry lips she unlocked the door. When she pulled the door open, their eyes locked, and he peered at her nervously.

“Did you get the gift I sent?”

“I did. Thank you. It’s breath taking.”

“When you get ready to go back home, I’ll pay to have it shipped for you. I just wanted you to see it now. I worked on it damn near nonstop for four days.”

“That was sweet of you. I can’t believe you painted something that beautiful and precise in four days.”

Naasson shrugged passively. “If I’m really into something, it doesn’t take me long to complete it.”

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