What the Heart Wants

by Tiana Laveen

  “Nice. And you keep it so clean. Impressive. Who is your maid service through?”

  Cameron hung Emily’s camel leather jacket inside the small closet by the front door.

  “Maid service?” He chuckled. “You’ve seen my portfolio and all of my financial investments, my expenses, all of that. I clean my own shit up. My parents were clean freaks, so they kinda passed that on to me.” He shrugged. “I used to drive Brooke crazy. She was kinda messy and I’d get on her about it.”

  He smirked when he realized Emily had finally dressed down. He hadn’t known what to expect, though it was always fun to see whatever she’d chosen to wear. It was the first time he’d ever seen her in just a plain pair of jeans, but she’d paired it with an expensive-looking, simple black long-sleeved shirt with a small satin bow detail at the center of the collar, three-inch black stilettos with pointy toes, and a white and black checkered necklace that he’d describe as a statement piece. Her longish nails were painted clear, and her lips were a neutral muted pink, much different from her signature bold red.

  “You look nice,” she said, her eyes bright and glossy. He led her by the hand into the living room. “Smell good, too.”

  “Thank you. So do you.” Opium burst through the room like some wild beast, awakening from his slumber once he’d realized someone had entered his domain. The dog sped right past him and practically tackled Emily to the floor as if she had the last steak in town. Emily fell back hard against the couch, her long blonde hair swaying in a million directions as she cackled loudly, almost drowning out the music. Estelle’s “Thank You” played on Alexa.

  “Here he goes again.” Cameron sighed, shaking his head. “Opium, get off her.”

  “Awww, leave him alone. He’s fine. He just missed me is all,” she said with a big grin as she showered the dog with affection. Cameron paused. The words she uttered made him feel a bit strange, yet comforted, too. He was certain it had a double meaning.

  Emily rubbed behind the dog’s ears, making Opium’s eyes practically roll with elation and pleasure. He stood there for a second, taking it all in, loving the scene.

  Is this supposed to be happening? Yeah, it is. Brooke, I know that’s you.

  While Emily was preoccupied with playing with his fur-pal, Cameron glanced around the room making sure everything was exactly how he wished it to be. Nag Champa incense burned from the bedroom and poured out, discernible but not overpowering. The long, black glossy dining room table had two white plate settings on it, along with white linen napkins, silverware sets from his mother, a pitcher of freshly brewed Thai iced tea he’d made for his date, and a red rose lying across one of the plates, just for her.

  “All right, Opium, that’s enough. Bring your ass over here and leave her alone.” Cameron whistled, and the dog immediately sprinted over.

  “He was fine,” Emily said with a big smile. “He’s such a gorgeous dog. Nice. What a sweetheart.”

  “Do you know how strange he’s acting? I don’t know how much you know about this breed, Emily.”

  “I don’t know much about dogs at all, period.” She shrugged. “I never liked them. I mean, it wasn’t a dislike, per se, but I just never was inclined to want one. They’ve just recently been on my radar. I even looked into adopting one, but I don’t think now is the time. Eventually I will, though.”

  “Well, let me tell you about this guy right here. Opium here is a Rottweiler. This breed is known for being physically strong. They’re muscular and powerful. They’re protective and Opium personally has been hostile if he feels I am in trouble, for example if a stranger walks real fast toward me. They kinda get a bad rap as being vicious when they’re really not. That only happens when provoked or they’ve been abused or neglected. Maybe this isn’t the time for me to get all into dogs.” He chuckled. “If I bored you, sorry. We can talk more about it later.”

  “No, no, no. I know you love him, and I like him, too. I know how important he was to you and Brooke. That means, in some way, he’s important to me, too.” He smiled at her thoughtfulness. “Tell me more about Rottweilers. I really like how that breed looks, by the way.”

  “Yeah, they’re great. Well, they make great family pets, actually, and they’re good with children, too. They just need to be trained, which he is. Brooke had him in an obedience school for six weeks, every other day. It was expensive, but it did wonders. Anyway, he’s devoted, loyal, a great friend. Brooke loved him almost more than me.” He laughed sadly, and her lips curled in a smile as she nodded. “Yeah, he is a total baby when it comes to me and people he knows—very affectionate and sweet. But he doesn’t really know you, and has only seen you twice. I told you a while back that he doesn’t act this way with people he doesn’t know. You’re the exception.” He lowered his head for a spell. “When he sees you, he jumps on you, wants you to play with him, acts like he knows you. He treats you like you’re—”

  “Like I’m Brooke.”

  He pursed his lips and mulled over what she said as he petted the dog’s head. He then led Opium into the kitchen.

  “Opium, stay in here, all right?” The dog whined as he slumped down on the floor, looking dejected. “Don’t give me that face. I mean it. You stay put. You’ve got food, water, toys. I’m not locking you in here. I just need you to stay out of the way for a little while, okay?” Cameron smiled before rubbing the dog’s head one last time. Heading to the hall bath, he washed his hands and checked out his face in the mirror, making sure his short beard was well trimmed and his fade and the waves of his hair were on point. He then returned to sit by Emily on the couch. He handed her a paper menu he’d laid out on the coffee table earlier. “Look it over and tell me what you want, then I’ll call our order in.”

  “Okay.” She opened the red, white, and black decorated paper menu with a small tear in the bottom and a grease mark on the back, and began to read through the options.

  “So.” He sat back on the couch and she perused the offerings, her expression a bit intense. “I wanna tell you that it’s real nice to have you over here, Emily. Thanks for coming.”

  “Cameron, you knew I wanted to come by. I’ve asked you to come to my place, and I’ve asked to come by yours. I think you knew I’d say yes and I’m happy to finally be here. A person’s home tells a lot about them.” She snuck him a brief glance.

  “Well, pace is everything, princess. I gotta keep some kind of mystery about myself. Can’t let you see all of this fantastic-ness in one sitting. That might make your head explode.”

  She burst out laughing at his joke, shaking her head.

  “Your home is really nice.” She looked about the place. “I know I said that, but seriously, it’s very clean but feels homey and well put together. Like I told you a long time ago, the architecture of this place is amazing, too. Still thinking of putting it on the market?”

  “I don’t know.” He leaned forward and clasped his hands together. “I love it here, but again, it’s a little uncomfortable now because of what happened. I’ve become so indecisive lately, Emily, it’s crazy. That’s not like me at all.”

  “I believe you. You lost the love of your life. Of course you’d act different.” She rested her hand on his leg. He looked down at her long, manicured fingers.

  “Anyway, the jury is still out on that whole moving thing. Do you want some tea?” He pointed to the table. She slowly slipped her hand away when he leaned back from her, creating some distance while his heart beat a mile a minute. Emily’s energy was doing something to him. It was like Brooke was in there with them, but not in a strange way. It was like his dearly departed was a wisp of perfumed smoke floating about the room, encouraging him, urging him on. Was this what she wanted? “I’ve got water, of course. I’ve got a couple different juices, too.”

  “Water is fine, thank you.” He got up and returned with a chilled bottle of water, which he handed to her. “Thank you. Cameron, you always smell so good. I said that already, too, but it’s true. You really know how to we
ar cologne. It’s never too strong, always just right.” She leaned in close—so close, her long, golden hair brushed against his neck. She inhaled hard then smiled, and their gazes locked.

  “Thank you.” Before he could form another thought, she leaned in and kissed his cheek, then kissed the side of his neck.

  “What are you wearing?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Nothin’ special. Jimmy Choo Man Intense.”

  “It smells superb with your chemistry. You smell good enough to eat. Can I eat you? I’ve wanted to be with you like this for so long, it’s been driving me crazy.” Her warm breath was sweet and minty. Cocking his head to the side with a smirk, he cracked his knuckles and looked into her eyes.

  “All right, enough of this shit. I’m not the beat around the bush kinda guy so, uh, let me ask you something.”

  “What?” She placed the menu down on the coffee table, a shit-eating grin on her face.

  “First of all, is this Emily comin’ on to me or Brooke?”

  “Let me ask you something. Does it matter, Cameron?” She shrugged. “We’re a package deal now.” She smiled sadly.

  “It does matter because I don’t want to use you as some rebound. If this is what you want, that’s fine, that’s good. If this is only Brooke, then it feels like I’m invading something I’m not supposed to. You didn’t like dogs, now you do. You didn’t deal with Black men romantically, now you are. I’m not about to walk into this shit blindly. Tell me which one of you is trying to get into my bed tonight. I need to know.”

  Emily seemed to mull his words over, then finally said, “The truthful answer is both.”

  “All right, I can accept that. Now, here’s another question before you get me all hot and bothered and revved up.” She chuckled. “Have you been cleared for sex? I read that there’s a waiting time after surgery. Is that true?”

  “Yeah, there is, but I was cleared a long time ago. I only had to wait eight weeks after the surgery, after my breastbone had healed.”

  “Mmm hmm, I see.” He crossed his arms as he looked down at her, his thoughts and questions whirling and growing. Her left sleeve inched lower as she shifted closer to him, exposing a creamy shoulder. “And, uh, have you had sex since your surgery?”

  She grimaced. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Why would you ask me that?”

  “It’s a normal question, Emily. Have you fucked anyone since you’ve had the heart transplant?”

  “Is that really any of your business?” She crossed her arms over her chest, mirroring his stance, and glared at him, though her lips twitched, fighting a smile.

  “Yeah it’s my business if we’re tryna see what’s up, trying to see where this can go, what we can get into.”

  “No,” she finally said after a long pause. “I haven’t fucked, as you so wonderfully put it, another man since the surgery.”

  “Don’t try to be slick and pull some Bill Clinton wordplay tournaments. I know how you are. You enjoy these semantics games. Have you made love? Had sex? Had your pussy ate? If yes to any of those questions, was it another woman? I gotta clear all bases here since I know you choose your words wisely when you’re trying to be sly. You can’t outplay a reformed player. I’m a wordsmith, too, so just answer the questions. All of them.”

  “No, no, no, and no.” She giggled then rolled her eyes. After picking up the menu once more, she glanced at it, then set it back down. “You’re paranoid. Anyway, I’m getting the Thai basil stir fry,” she said casually.

  “The one with the tofu?” She nodded as he checked out the menu himself.

  “Let me guess. That’s what she would order.”

  “Yup,” he answered, keeping his eye on the menu.

  “I could freak you out right now, Cameron. Want me to try?” A mischievous look danced in her eyes.

  “Haven’t you done enough of that already?” He smirked. “You sung me that song she used to sing, you know shit about her, about us. All right, the hell with it.” He laughed. “Now I’m curious. Go ahead, do it.”

  “Okay, this just popped into my mind. You told Brooke about your fifth-grade teacher, Mrs. Mary, one time. It was one of your first times dealing with death. You were heartbroken when Mrs. Mary died of complications with AIDs.” He swallowed and perused the chicken choices. “Am I right?”

  “Half right. Something must’ve gotten messed up in translation, but yeah, her name was Mrs. Mary. She taught math. She was my fourth-grade teacher, actually, and she died of cancer.”

  “It was diagnosed as cancer, but the cancer was caused by AIDS.”

  He looked up at her. “That’s not true.”

  “I think Brooke sees these people, the ones that have crossed over. I think she saw Mrs. Mary.” He swallowed, a bit sorry he’d allowed Emily to walk down this creepy road. “It is true. She’d contracted HIV in the late 80s from her husband who didn’t know he had it, either. She didn’t find out until several months before her death, but it was ultimately her body’s inability to fight cancer due to the AIDs virus that took her out.” After some hesitation, Cameron snatched his phone off the table and called one of his best friends, Charles. He put him on speakerphone.

  “Hey, Charles. What’s up, man?”

  “’Sup, Cam. I thought you was comin’ to the club tonight? I’m down here with Tinesha. We decided to stop through and get some drinks. There’s an art show. Pretty dope.”

  “Nah, man, didn’t need to. Yeah, enjoy that, support those brothas and sistas. Hey, I’m here with a friend of mine discussing old times. Do you remember our old teacher in elementary school, Mrs. Mary?”

  “Yeah, fourth-grade math, man. We all loved her, she was cool. Made the subject fun.”

  “Yeah, do you remember what she died from?”

  “Cancer.” He smiled and nodded, feeling a bit smug. “But a few years later somebody said she’d had AIDs. I don’t know. Back then, she may have. You know people didn’t really talk about it like they do now.”

  His smile slowly faded, and now, Emily was grinning ear to ear.

  “Oh, okay. Well, uh, I won’t hold you.”

  “That’s what you called me about? Yo, Cameron, lately you’ve been acting weird as hell. Thomas said you’ve been hangin’ with some White lady, too. Who is she?”

  Much to his surprise, Emily covered her mouth and stifled a laugh, amusement in her expression.

  “It’s a friend of mine. She’s good people, chick named Emily.” He winked in her direction.

  “All right, straight. Look though, you need to get down here and do somethin’ about Rob and all these mothafuckas cloggin’ up the damn toilets wit’ shit, tampons, and wads of tissue, my nigga. I am sick of this. Because yo crew know I’m a plumber they always try to make me go in there and fix the shit when I stop in, like because you hook me up with free drinks, I gotta pay that shit forward. I’m here to have a good time. They act like I just walk around wantin’ to do this, man. That’s disrespectful, my nigga. I was just in there and—”

  “Gotta go.” Cameron quickly disconnected the call, only to hear Emily burst out laughing as she wagged her finger.

  “Why did you cut him off? It was just getting good.” She cackled, growing red in the face. “And you can’t stand it.”

  “Stand what?”

  “You can’t stand being wrong, even in matters such as this. The male ego is fragile. How sad.”

  “You were still wrong,” he muttered, trying to keep from smiling and giving in to the pile of truth she’d laid before him. “It wasn’t fifth grade.”

  “Sore loser. I got the gist of the story right, and that’s all that matters.”

  “How exactly do you do that, anyway? I mean like, how does that work? You know, you getting this information from her?”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I just kind of know it.”

  He nodded. “I just want to let you know, if Brooke told you that, right here, right now, then yeah, I’m
freaked out. See, I told her that story, opened up to her like that right before…Never mind.”

  “Cameron, no, tell me.” She reached out and turned his head to face her.

  “Okay, it happened like this. I’d known her a couple of months. She told me she didn’t just have sex with anyone, that sex was important to her, so she was choosy and selective about who she gave her body to. She said I needed to open up more, tell her about things that affected me, mattered to me, that she would not accept my silence or my walls. So, for some reason, the story of Mrs. Mary popped into my mind that day.” He stared at the floor. “I told her how it had affected me and my classmates real bad because she really cared about us kids, and she was a damn good teacher. We all went to her funeral. It was the first time I had cried after losing someone. I was messed up for a while after that. Later that night, Brooke gave herself to me for the first time.”

  Baby, is this your blessing? Are you tellin’ me to not feel guilty about liking Emily and just give in to my attraction and desire for her? You must be. I can’t believe this.

  “You want any appetizers or anything to go with your rice?” he asked after a moment of silence, switching lanes, needing desperately to make his way out of the depressing conversation.

  “No, that’s enough, thanks.”

  Cameron called in their orders, grabbed the remote control, and turned on the television. He leaned back against the couch and she nestled against him, snuggling beneath his arm. He hesitated for a spell, then wrapped his arm around her, bringing her closer. She looked up at him, and he down at her.

  One kiss on her forehead aroused his senses. He kissed her forehead once again, and a split second later, he turned her toward him, hand cupping the back of her neck, and drew her in for a kiss. The soft warmth of her lips stirred him, and his dick jumped and lengthened in his boxer briefs, soon straining against the fabric. His tongue danced with hers as he deepened the kiss, passion exploding between them. He reached for her breast, lightly thumbing and caressing it over her shirt. He loved how her nipple stiffened beneath his touch and her airy, feminine moans filled the room. He slowly drifted away from her mouth and navigated to her neck, delivering warm, slow pecks. Emily wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer, embracing him.