The best part of Nyla Ashton's life was only in her imagination.
The only way that she could get through the day was by thinking of him.
His lips.
His eyes.
His smile.
She wanted him.
The man that she yearned for was not her boyfriend of 3 yea...
"What's it like to fall in love, Ny?" My friend, Camille, randomly asked as she took a sip of her rum cocktail. It was only one in the afternoon but I wasn't going to rain on her parade.
"In the beginning it feels great, like you can't live without that person." My mind wandered to thoughts of Shae. "Just remember, love is a drug. It makes you feel like you can conquer anything so therefore it's addictive which isn't always a good thing."
"So, it can be bad for you?" She asked, tilting her head to the side. I nodded, placing a sour cream pretzel into my mouth.
"When did you become so deep?" She playfully side eyed me and a grin stretched on her lips.
Rolling my eyes, I couldn't help but replicate her action. The first smile that had been genuine in the past few weeks.
I missed my best friend. My mood booster.
Ace Payne.
I had returned home two days after Shae's breakdown and Tyson didn't think twice to alert Ace of my return. I knew that I couldn't see him until I was in the right mind frame and looking better. I had visibly lost a bit of weight in the last few weeks therefore I had to force myself to consume those meals which I had skipped. Ace's scheduled business arrangements had kept him busy so I took his distraction as a chance to attempt to get back to normal starting with meeting up with Camille. Plus, she had begged me to.
"You in love?"
"I think so." My eyes widened in awe and my ears perked up in curiosity. When it came to relationships, Camille was on the level that I called 'Ghosting'. After a few days of giving you her time, she would vanish completely from your life forcing you to question whether she was only in your imagination. That's how quickly she became bored of male attention.
Her sexual preference was questioned by myself but after being told that 'no strap-on penis could satisfy me like the trunk of a horny warrior', I nipped my presumption in the butt.
"Who is he?" I leaned forward, ready to connect the name to the face.
"Bradley Beal."
Bradley Beal?
"The only man by that name that I've heard of is..." I trailed off remembering an internet news article I came across a couple of days ago. This man had been fined $50,000 for an altercation.
"The basketball player?" She nodded enthusiastically.
This bitch. Shoot me now.
"You can't be serious right now, Camille." I responded in between laughs.
"Like a heart attack bitch. Have you seen him?" She dramatically fanned herself and sighed heavily. Picking up her phone from it's faced down position on the table, she showed me her new screensaver which, of course, was the man himself.
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