Chapter 13
Breeze
“Array don’t be fucking playing,” I grumbled, as I stepped through the house, scoping out the ambiance.
I was expecting maybe some food on the pit, drinks, and a little music. Meanwhile, this lady had orchestrated a whole damn party that was obviously professionally decorated with a forest green and gold color scheme. Summer’s favorite colors.
“This is nice,” Ora admitted, as she walked beside me. “And the food smells good too.”
“Yeah, it really do,” I agreed, as I rubbed my hard stomach.
“Hey, Breeze,” Tele greeted with a hug, as I stepped into the living room.
Ora cleared her throat, gaining Tele's attention.
“Oh, hey,” Tele dryly spoke, before walking past her.
I could tell that Ora felt some type of way, but I couldn’t dwell on that, as I was swamped with family, right after.
At this point, if my pops and Array hosted any type of event, then our whole family showed up. On both sides. So, I wasn’t surprised by the large turnout. Plus, with mine and Summer’s stardom, everybody took any opportunity to be around us. Extended family and friends included.
Ora stood back, not saying much, as she hadn’t really been inducted into the family. Only a handful of people even knew of her, and I had never brought her to a family function before. So, this was all new to her, and I honestly didn’t know how this shit was gone go.
“Hey, Summer!” I heard Tele shout.
Without thinking, I turned to see Summer waltzing through the living room. Naturally, she’d come dressed for the occasion. Versace from the shoulders down. Custom, wide, diamond framed, clear Cartier glasses sat on the bridge of her nose, just for sport.
As usual, she was TV ready, and probably really hadn’t gotten herself together completely on her own. She definitely regularly kept people around, just for her physical maintenance. Because she was conceited and had the bread to do so.
“Oh, brother,” Ora grumbled, causing me to cut my eyes in her direction.
Looking at her, I could almost see the jealousy seeping from her pores. But who could blame her?
Summer was a different breed of woman, and there weren’t too many walking around like her. Her presence always filled the room, and if there was even a smidge of insecurity within you, then that level of being was sure to make you uncomfortable.
Funnily, despite Ora not caring for her, Summer was mostly a girls’ girl.
Damn near a feminist. Always wanting to deprogram, and ‘wake the women up, and drag them away from misogyny’ as she’d like to say.
And she’d often say that one of the reasons that she didn’t care for Ora was because she was too male centered.
Although deep down, we all knew that there was more to the story.
Summer was sometimes full of shit, on the real. Like, she could see everybody else’s bullshit a mile away, but always struggled to identify her own. I could say that, because I knew her, and could clearly see that she was a fucking runner.
Frankly, having Summer at any capacity in my life, had forced me to learn more about women, than what I once believed was humanly possible.
The modern-day Summer prototype was a career driven woman. One who believed in her own dreams, and wasn’t going to let societal norms stand in the way. She was also a unevolved nigga’s worst nightmare.
Money didn’t impress Summer. Hell, the girl literally had a limited series streaming on Netflix, at the time.
So, she clearly had her own. Therefore, having money didn’t guarantee keeping her, either, if she didn’t wanna be kept.
As a man, you had to actually show up. Have some character and depth.
Which is why most of my peers preferred fine and broke.
That way, he could buy himself out of pretty much anything, and never really had to be held accountable.
And more and more, I fucking understood their way of thinking.
“Hey, y’all.”
Glancing to my left, I saw Harlem marching into the living room, causing me to grind my teeth together. Because Summer’s line stepping ass knew better.
Summer
My stomach was doing somersaults, while I was nauseous as fuck. Fearing that in any minute…my mask would be snatched off, and the real would come tumbling out.
Back in L.A. …I’d grown accustomed to duality.
You weren’t fake, just because the public knew one version of you, while everybody else knew another.
Hell, in my case…there were actually three versions of Summer.
There was public Summer, my family’s Summer, and lastly…
Harlem’s Summer. And never were all of those bitches in the same room together.
Which was how I’d been keeping some semblance of order, and not completely losing my fucking mind.
Now, I was at my mama’s, wanting to run for the fucking hills, badly. Meanwhile, Harlem was seemingly having the time of his life.
Harlem was tossing back drinks, and socializing with whoever…while Breeze was uncharacteristically quiet. Which was quite dangerous, in my opinion.
Those drinks had Harlem extra friendly, and I knew that he was drunk, once the crowd had dwindled down, and he’d insisted that me, him, Breeze, and Ora sit down to play spades.
I’d made up every excuse not to participate, and still found myself sitting at the table on the outside deck, across from Ora’s weird ass.
Initially, Breeze was extremely standoffish, but with Harlem being so talkative, it wasn’t long before they were engaging in conversation, after not really speaking in over four years.
“So, when do you think that you’ll be back on the court, Breeze?” Harlem questioned, before chugging down the last of his margarita.
Breeze nonchalantly shrugged. “Probably never.”
Harlem furrowed a brow. “Damn, for real? Your injury is that bad?”
“Nah,” Breeze admitted. “I’m just at the end of my contract, and Ion really care to renew.”
“Oh, damn. So, you was serious when you used to say that your NBA career would be short. I know you just made the Forbes list, but damn, bro. You really don’t love the game?”
“I don’t,” Breeze admitted with no hesitation. “Not like the average player. Just a means to an end.”
Harlem nodded. “I hear you. Ion understand it, but I hear you.”
“Right. So, you ready for this upcoming season?” Breeze questioned, as he was dissing out a card.
Smiling, Harlem nodded. “Was born ready.”
“I feel that,” Breeze claimed. “Plus, you got to do some rare shit. Playing for your hometown on the first go round.”
“Yeah, and I’m too hyped, man,” Harlem admitted.
Bobbing my head, I had absolutely nothing to add to the conversation. Especially right there, in that moment. Even though I would’ve normally barged in to give praises.
Ora was sitting across from me, twisting her lips, while staring at the cards in her hand, clearly avoiding eye contact with me.
Honestly, I was thinking of a way to say that I was ready to go. Hell, it was after midnight, and virtually everyone was gone, including Renny, Tarin, and Sassy, who’d pulled up to kick it for a while.
Yawning, I glanced at an oblivious Harlem. Not wanting to use any usual pet names, I tapped his arm. “I think that we should go, after this hand. It’s late, and I’m sure that my mama and Ricky are ready to shut it down.”
Harlem nodded. “Okay. We’ll head out, after this hand.” He glanced at Breeze. “Y’all heading in for the night, or y’all wanna pull up at the house, and finish catching up?”
Tucking my lips into my mouth, my eyes shifted to Breeze, awaiting his response. Nervously.
Breeze locked eyes with me, before gradually smirking. “Yeah. We can pull up.”
***
“Baby, you know what I just realized?” Harlem asked, as he rode shotgun in my G-Wagon.
I was driving us home, which was a rarity. Harlem was obviously inebriated, so I couldn’t play passenger princess.
“What’s that?” I asked, as I licked my lips. Checking the rearview mirror, I saw that Breeze was still trailing us in his Lam truck, causing my stomach to twist in knots.
“You didn’t have not one drink tonight.” He drunkenly pointed out. “What’s up with that?”
I shrugged. “I just didn’t feel like drinking. No biggie.”
“Is that right?” He reached over and grabbed my hand, interlocking our fingers.
“Ummhmm.” My eyes veered back to that rearview mirror.
“Okay, baby. I…I wanna apologize about earlier today. Jinny was out of pocket, and if you don’t feel comfortable with her around the house, I’ll fire her ass.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Awe, that’s sweet of you, Harlem. But she did bring attention to something that we really haven’t been focusing on.”
“And what’s that?” He stroked the back of my hand with his thumb.
“That house is not big enough for the both of us. You have all these new brand deals. I have my books and merch. And it’s simply not enough room for both.”
“Right. That’s why we’re gonna find a realtor.”
I cut my eyes at him. “Are you looking to buy or rent?”
“You know that I aint renting shit. I’m buying. We’re buying.”
“See…that’s what I’m trying to get at. You need more space to handle your business. Buying a house would be a great investment. For you. But I don’t need another house, Harlem.”
“Okay, cool. I’ll buy it. It doesn’t matter. As long as I have you with me.”
I sighed, realizing that he wasn’t catching my drift. “I’m saying, Harlem. You don’t think that you want to get used to this NBA life, before you try to commit? Don’t you want to know what it’s like to live alone?”
“Awe, fuck,” he groaned, as his head fell back into the headrest. “Come on, Summer. Please don’t start that shit again.
Always trying to run. Put words in my mouth.
I keep telling you that I’m here cause I wanna be.
And I’ve done my thing. Fucked with randoms, and I’m good.
I realized a while ago that I’m better whenever I’m with you.
A relationship keeps me grounded. Disciplined.
Plus, aint shit out there in these streets.
Just a bunch of groupies and gold diggers, looking for a come up.
And you’re literally the only girl I never have to worry about.
Even though that independent shit drives me crazy sometimes, I know that I never have to question why you fuck with me.
You have your own, and a nigga with money don’t move you.
I love that shit, and I don’t fucking get why you try different ways to break up with me, every few weeks. ”
“Because, Harlem.” I tucked my lips into my mouth. “I…I’m not right. I be doing some fucked up shit—”
“Don’t we all?” He interjected. “I know you aint perfect. Shit, me, neither. That’s the beauty of this shit.”
I shook my head. “You’re just not hearing me, Harlem. I…I honestly think that when you find a house…you should move in it alone. And maybe…maybe you’ll look up one day, and realize that you don’t even miss me.”
He shook his head. “You aint making sense. I don’t know if this fear or what, but I’m not hearing that shit. Me playing ball is not gonna come between us. So, you need to just get that shit out of your head. Cause I aint going nowhere.”