So that answers part of the question, Waverly thought.
She had sensed a vibe from Nicole after their first meeting on the balcony, but this confirmed it. Nicole definitely liked women. Waverly could tell when someone liked her, male or female. She sensed Nicole was interested, but Waverly put her in the 'plays both sides of the field' category. So, what was her relationship with that man outside her flat, she wondered. And, why was she over-thinking a woman, admittedly an attractive woman, who she had only just met.
Waverly was finishing a pile of ironing, when the doorbell rang. She was in her customary barely-there shorts and T-shirt, no bra as she wanted to catch a few more rays after slogging over Champ's work shirts. Nicole was standing in the doorway holding the Tate Modern catalogue she purchased. She looked beyond Waverly into the apartment, hinting she wanted to come in. Waverly was in two minds. She liked Nicole, but after the balcony scene, she wanted to keep their relationship strictly neighbourly.
After an awkward silence, Waverly invited her in. The apartment was a mess. It was on Waverly's 'to-do' list, but domesticity really wasn't her calling in this life. It was one thing to be at home during the day, it was so not her 'thing' to have to do all the chores. She noticed Champ slacking off once he knew she was in the apartment for much of the day. She stopped him calling her 'wifey' after the second occasion.
Girlfriend, yes. Wife, definite No. No ring, No thing, in her books.
Waverly headed to the kitchen, Nicole following. She wondered why Nicole was holding the catalogue.
She filled the kettle, as Nicole took a seat at the breakfast bar. "Would you like a coffee?"
"Please. Sorry I had to leave yesterday. Had some business to attend to."
"I saw," Waverly teased, knowing Nicole had seen her watching the kiss on the balcony.
"Oh, right. Yes, forgot how open these balconies are."
Waverly's curiosity got the better of her. "Girlfriend?"
Nicole scanned Waverly's face. Waverly didn't seem too concerned at having caught her with Shae on the balcony. Good sign she thought.
"No, I don't do girlfriends."
"You were doing that one." Waverly shot back with a wink, prompting a laugh from Nicole. Perhaps Waverly was like her older sister afterall, able to shoot quick one-line replies.
"What I meant was, my job doesn't allow me to have a serious relationship, right now. I mean, I want one, but I move about so much it wouldn't be fair."
Waverly pondered Nicole's comment. "Couldn't they travel with you?"
"True. But, most of the people I've dated don't want to be on the road all the time. Shae lives here. I see her when I'm in town. No strings. She's married anyway."
Waverly was not surprised Shae was banging Nicole while married. It wasn't as if she was a moral compass herself. It did put a different perspective on Nicole. She obviously didn't mind if someone was attached or not. Fair game.
Nicole sat fingering the catalogue.
"Do you fancy a drink tomorrow evening?"
Waverly wasn't sure. If she was going to keep this strictly neighbours, perhaps going for a drink wasn't such a good idea. Then again, Charlie would be out partying with the boys. A drink with Nicole, or watching TV all evening on her own. Decisions, decisions.
"Sure. Why not."
"8pm, OK?"
"Smart, or casual?"
Nicole scanned Waverly's body. "Smart. Something sexy!"
Waverly realised she hadn't made Nicole a drink. "Sorry, did you want a coffee?"
"No it's fine. Catch you later."
It was only after Nicole had left Waverly realised the Tate catalogue was still on the breakfast bar. She flicked through the pages. One painting had been circled. Picasso's The Dream. The painting Waverly had spent the most time studying. Strange.
Champ came home in a really good mood. "Babes, we've got to have another party. I think I'm in with Ross Kemp. You know Eastenders, Grant Mitchell. Bloke I work with is in his circle."
Waverly didn't know him. She was pleased Champ was so happy. He liked rubbing shoulders with celebrities. He fancied himself as a Chelsea wannabe, apart from the fact his North London accent kept him rooted to the other side of the River Thames.
The club Nicole had in mind was different. She was banking on Waverly being game, but this could be make or break how things went forward. They would go to the Retro Bar first, a short walk from the club. It's where she usually went with Shae. Then Heaven, the venue Nicole craved every time she was in London. She didn't need to hang out in gay bars and clubs, but she loved the atmosphere of these places. It made her feel welcome, not simply another tourist in another city. It was her home.
Nicole had ordered an Uber to take them to the bar. She didn't have Waverly's number, yet. Otherwise, she would have called to say it would be at the apartment block in 15 minutes. Frustrating, as she usually was good with details. Still, she lived next door. She rang the bell, waiting to see what Waverly would be wearing. She was used to Waverly not wearing much, which was perfectly OK with her. Like seeing a Christmas present before it is wrapped.
Waverly opened the door. She was wearing a black figure-hugging dress that did everything for her. Nicole stared, her eyes fixed on the vision before her. She adored beauty, but this made Michelangelo's Pietà look like a cheap piece of carved rock. Nicole adored form, natural beauty, aesthetics.
There would be no peaceful sleep until this object of beauty in front of her was acquired.
The bar was busy, the usual vibe of Londoners out enjoying themselves after work. This would not have been on Waverly's radar before Nicole. She preferred the West End, with all its glitz, but she was definitely enjoying the new experience. Waverly wouldn't class herself as playing any side of the pitch. She went with her feelings. If she liked someone she went with it. Seeing where it led was half the fun. She had decided Champ was worth a shot after months of him chasing her. She knew she had him, which was reassuring, but also boring. Still, great apartment.
Would she play the field? Perhaps. It all depended on who the person was. Nicole definitely looked fit. Her height, red hair and model features set her apart. They made you look. Waverly liked that. She was used to people looking at her admiringly. Having Nicole with her meant they stood out. Two good looking women makes for an interesting evening on the town.
The queue to get into Heaven was long. Waverly wasn't really into queues. She and her friends tended to march to the front, chat up the bouncer and get themselves in fairly quickly. If they weren't given priority treatment, they didn't bother with that club. Afterall, if a club didn't appreciate the talent on offer in their group, it wasn't the sort of club they wanted to be seen in. Nicole took Waverly's hand and led her to the front of the queue. She spoke briefly with one of the men on the door, who immediately dropped the rope barrier allowing them to enter the club.
It was buzzing. The music was everything Waverly loved. People moving their bodies freely in perfect rhythm. Couples kissing, laughter, people enjoying a night in a party atmosphere. Waverly felt her body begin to move to the music. She put her hands on Nicole's hips as she was led deeper into the club. This was her.
They made it to the bar, ordering two bottles of beer. They clinked bottles together toasting a good night, each taking a swig.
"Ready to make love?"
Waverly nearly spat out her beer hearing this. Nicole took her hand, leading her out to the main dance area. Calvin Harris & Disciples: How Deep is Your Love. Waverly felt the beat take hold of her. Nicole could dance. Oh, my God, could she dance. Waverly watched as she let the music move her body. She couldn't resist putting one hand on Nicole's waist and moving with her. She felt Nicole move into a rhythm with her. She felt her getting closer. She felt her drawing into her neck, kissing it softly. She moved her head, searching for Nicole's lips. She felt the touch. Nicole moved her hands to the small of her back, pulling her in, deepening the kiss. Waverly felt her legs shake.
The pulse of the music coursing through her body...how deep is your love.