Don't take it Personal

Night Out

I rushed into the bathroom, the cool water splashing over my face. Did that just happen? I thought, still feeling the lingering sensation of our almost-kiss, a strange mix of electricity and butterflies. I scolded myself mentally; I had just come out of a painful breakup, and now, I was considering a romantic entanglement with one of my best friends, someone who had always felt like a brother to me. But my subconscious was unkind, whispering that a brother wouldn't make you feel the way Trey did.

When I emerged from the bathroom, I half-expected Trey to still be there, making our already awkward situation even more unbearable. But he was gone, and for that, I silently thanked the heavens. I had committed to being his receptionist, a decision that seemed to grow more complicated by the minute.

Shaking off the tangled web of emotions, I focused on the task at hand. Cleaning the apartment, changing the sheets, and washing the curtains and linens. Time seemed to fly, and before I knew it, it was 9:40 pm. I texted Blacks to let him know I'd be sleeping over at the apartment.

However, my phone also revealed a message from Trey. Did I really want to dive into this convoluted job? The money was a compelling motivator, and he had already done so much for me. With resolve, I replied, "Yes, I will accept the position. See you on Monday." A simple thumbs-up emoji from him followed.

In need of a shower, I realized that my clothes were limited. So, I wrapped myself in a towel and tossed my shirt and underwear into the washing machine. Hungry and searching for something to eat in the apartment's bare kitchen, I came up empty-handed.

My phone rang, displaying Sasha's caller ID. We had attended UWI together, and I had filled her in on Sunday about the recent developments in my life. She sounded like she was at a club, the music blasting in the background. "Girl, where are you?" she asked.

"I'm at the apartment," I replied. "But there are no clothes here."

"Get your butt out here," she insisted. "I don't have any clothes here as yet, I said " I'll bring you something.Send me your location"she said.

I sent her the address, then put on the clothes I had washed and set them on the drying cycle. I grabbed a cup of tea and settled in front of the TV, watching an episode of Love and Hip Hop while I waited for Sasha.

Soon enough, my phone rang again, this time it was Sasha. "I'm outside, come get me," she said. I hurried downstairs to greet her, showing her where to park her Honda Civic. She emerged from the car with a big black bag, looking stunning in a backless black dress that hit just above her knee, her curly wig impeccably styled. Sasha was 5'8", with a lovely brown complexion and a slim-thick figure that included an enviable derrière.

We hugged and rode the elevator up, but it wasn't long before the awkwardness of the encounter descended upon us. An elderly couple shared the elevator to the third floor, followed by a guy who got on at the third. We still haven't reached out destination on the second floor. It was then I realized I did not press second floor.

Trey's entrance into the elevator on the fourth floor, however, added an extra layer of discomfort. He was dressed in white denim and a green Gucci shirt, paired with green Vans. He greeted Sasha and asked how she was, and throughout the brief elevator ride, the tension was undeniable. Sasha, perceptive as ever, sensed it too, but no words were exchanged between us.

As we stepped off the elevator onto the second floor, I couldn't help but feel relieved to be free of that confined space and the complicated emotions it contained.

Sasha wasted no time probing into the events of the evening, her curiosity evident in her immediate question. I hesitated briefly, then recounted what had transpired between Trey and me. Sasha's eyes widened as she listened, and her expression held a mix of surprise and expectation.

"I thought you two would have been together," Sasha remarked, her voice tinged with hope. "I know you're just coming out of a relationship, but considering the work you've done on yourself, I really think you and Trey could explore a romantic relationship."

We entered the house and settled onto the couch, the soft cushions offering a semblance of comfort in this tangled web of emotions. I appreciated Sasha's optimism, her unwavering belief in the possibility of love, but I couldn't help but respond with a sobering truth.

"Sash, I love your optimism," I began, "but right now, all I want is to heal and have a baby. I'm 28, which is still young, but you know my journey with PCOS and how much I yearn to be a mom. I think that's where my focus should be at the moment."

Sasha nodded, her understanding gaze offering a reassuring sense of companionship in this moment of vulnerability. She leaned forward slightly, her curiosity still unabated. "So, what are you thinking? Are you considering artificial insemination?" she asked.

The idea wasn't far from my thoughts, but it would likely involve traveling overseas, a significant step. Lost in my contemplation, Sasha's firm tone snapped me back to the present as she handed me a sleek olive-green dress and white heels.

"Go get dressed," she instructed, her tone leaving no room for debate. I nodded and made my way to change into the outfit she had picked out.

The dress slid onto my body like a second skin, its elegant design revealing my back while stopping at the mid-thigh. A deep V-cut added a touch of allure to its simplicity, and I found myself appreciating Sasha's choice. As I stepped out, ready to face whatever lay ahead, I couldn't help but feel grateful for her presence and her unwavering support.

We arrived at the club, and the name was a blur as Sasha enthusiastically dragged me inside. Jada's "Kingdom Song Heavy" was playing, its infectious rhythm compelling both of us to stop and let loose, shaking our ample assets to the music. The sultry dance moves earned us more than a few appreciative stares from the men in the crowd.

Our destination was the bar, where we approached to order our drinks. A guy in a white polo shirt and black pants sidled up to us, asking what we'd like. I hesitated for a moment, but Sasha, ever the fearless one, confidently ordered two Smirnoffs. He relayed the order to the bartender and graciously paid for it.

Whispering something into Sasha's ear, he managed to elicit a girlish giggle from her. Our drinks were handed over, and I wasted no time in downing mine; it was exactly what I needed. The music took a turn, and I couldn't resist the urge to hit the dance floor, whining and moving to the beat.

As I lost myself in the music, a guy approached me, and I hastily stepped away, heading back to the bar to order shots. Sasha, meanwhile, was engrossed in conversation with the guy she had been talking to earlier. I downed four shots in quick succession, feeling the warmth and courage they brought.

Returning to the dance floor, I picked up where I left off, only to find the guy I had been dancing with earlier becoming a bit too forward. Uncomfortable, I stopped dancing, and that's when Trey appeared at my side, like a guardian angel in the midst of the crowded club.

Author Note
How is the book so far ? .