"Hey."
"Hey."
Cameron walks in, carrying a small black bag in one hand and a box under the other arm, mildly struggling to hold the door open.
"Need help?"
"Nah, I'm good, baby. Stay there."
Mia stays in her loveseat, one earbud dangling from her ear, as she rests her eyes from the laptop in front of her. He walks into the living room with the box, handing it to her on his way into the kitchen.
"You good, baby?" He asks.
"Yeah," she says, sitting the box to the side, "Try'na finish my research for this damn midterm. How was it?"
"It was aight, slow. Want one?" He stands in front of the open refrigerator, holding up a clear glass bottle.
"I'm good, baby." She says, then looks again.
"Wait, wine coolers? When'd you get those?"
"I'm tired of beer," he replies, closing the fridge and making his way to her, taking a seat next to her feet. She moves her legs to place her feet on his lap, and closes her laptop, removing her earbuds and sitting them both on the floor.
"For real, how'd it go?" She asks.
"It was fine, baby," he replies pensively, as he twists the cap off of his beverage.
"Cam," she says again. He knows that look. He sighs.
"I'on know, Mia. I mean, I'm glad I finally got published but... I'on know. It's just not what I expected."
"That's what happens when you write a novel in the 'information era,' Cam. I told you, people don't like to read anymore. They like pictures," she says, crossing her eyes as she mimicks scrolling on her phone. He chuckles.
"I know, it's just... well, you LOVE to read."
"Yes, I do," she agrees.
"So, wouldn't you go to your favorite author's book signing?" He asks.
"Hell yeah, if she weren't dead," she laughs.
"I'm serious, Mia. Only two people showed up today. TWO." He says, clearly feeling defeated as he takes a sip of his much needed glass of relaxation.
"Did they take selfies?" She asks.
"First thing, every time," he answers.
"Did you TALK to them at least?"
"Never got the chance. One wanted his signed for his mom, the other brought her lil' funky-ass girlfriends back there to take pictures and left. Hoes didn't even grab a fuckin' copy," he says, shaking his head.
"CAM."
"I KNOW, I'm sorry, I just... I mean shit, Mia. The fuck I'm 'posed to do 'bout sales?"
"Baby... How many days you have your signing at The Grove now?" She asks.
"Five. Five days." He states.
"And how many people came to your first two signings?" She asks, trying to prove a point.
"I mean, you were THERE-" he stops. Suddenly, something clicks, and he curses his lack of hindsight.
"Shit, baby," he says, giving himself a light face-palm.
"Yeeeah," she replies, over-exaggerating a head nod.
"Three. Should'a made it three days," he says.
"The magic number is always three."
"Jesus's comeback: three days. Told ya," she chuckles, patting his hand. She gets up, grabbing the box he handed to her, and walks to their bedroom. He watches her walk for a moment, her curvy frame draped in a sheer black nightgown, her curly hair loosely swaying across her shoulderblades. He's always admired how gorgeous and intuitive she was. He appreciates the view, and follows her to the bedroom, drink in hand.
Mia takes a seat on the bed, and pulls out a box-cutter from the nightstand next to her. Cameron finishes his cooler, entering just in time for her to finish opening the box.
"Check this out," she says, setting the blade aside and opening the cardboard flaps to reveal something wrapped in brown paper, tied together by a piece of hemp rope.
"Aww shit, whatchu get now?" He asks, taking a seat next to her on the bed.
"Boy, just open the damn thing," Mia chuckles.
He tears the paper, pulling the rope off and setting it aside. Inside is a smooth, dark leather journal, with 'Brookes' branded in gold on the spine.
"Oh... baby, this looks-"
"Turn it over," she tells him.
He turns the journal over and reads the small branded letters on the back. He pauses for a few moments, running his thumb over the gold print. His voice softens.
"How'd you do this?"
"Remember the wedding card your mom wrote? After she passed, I decided to put everything she ever gave us in the safe with the deed and stuff. I saw you were losing hope so I got someone to customize this for you."
Near the bottom of the journal, it read:
"Go on, my little songbird. Show Mama you can fly." B.B.
He recites a quote he's heard a thousand times:
"'You never gone' grow without a lil' bit o' rain, so when the storm come-'"
"'-all ya gotta do is sang.'" Mia finishes the saying with him.
"Beebee loved the hell outta some gold, too. Her bedroom looked like a damn pawn shop." She chuckles again; She was never really good at comforting. He silently chokes back tears; up until this moment, he never thought he could be more grateful for the woman he married.
"Baby... thank you. For real, this is-"
"Oh, shut up. Here," she takes the journal and puts it back in its box, setting it on the nightstand next to her.
Mia replaces the journal Cameron once held with a neatly rolled blunt and a silver lighter, one in each of his open hands.
"Wish it was gold," he says, almost to himself. He lights up, taking the first long drag in silence. He puffs again, then passes it to her.
"You okay, Cammie?" She asks, mid drag. He sighs.
"Yeah, I'm good. Just... drained."
They take turns smoking back and forth while she chooses music to play. She settles on lofi as they finish their blunt. Mia lies flat on her back and closes her eyes, listening to the wind pick up outside her bedroom window. He looks at her, amazed at how she can do so much with so little effort. His face softens as he watches her unwind; she's so beautiful to him, but her kindness makes him fall in love with her all over again. Without thinking, he leans over and kisses her, her eyes still closed. She looks up at him, a little startled, but still flattered.
"Thank you, Mia. Really. You always doin' shit like this and I never know how to repay you."
"Just shut up and love me, nigga." She kisses him back and lies back down again, closing her eyes with a smile on her face.
"I do it 'cause I love you, and 'cause you need it." He slowly caresses her midsection, staring at her skin long enough for her to catch him.
"I need YOU," he replies, his eyes full of tenderness and adoration. He kisses her again, this time more passionately.
She reaches up to hold his face as he hovers over her, tongues gently caressing one another as their lips dance around each other. Her lips are full and soft, inviting him to play whenever he pleased. His head fills with static as his body fills with heat. He felt like a college student all over again; his heart was pounding, as if he'd kissed her for the first time. He grabs her hip and pulls her closer to him, pushing his pulsating mass against her through layers of clothing. She takes a sharp inhale, entangling her fingers in his long locs as she lifts her leg, wrapping it around him. He grips her thigh in response, and a soft sigh escapes her lips.
Clothing is strewn about all corners of the bed now; nightgown thrown hastily over the headboard, partially tucked into the mattress, slacks piled at the foot of the bed. Cameron has made himself comfortable, softly teasing Mia's nipple with his tongue as he slowly runs his hands up and down her smooth, dark torso; starting at the nape of her neck, his hand travels down her ribs, then to her inner thigh. She lies relaxed, eyes closed, with one arm over her head, and the other wrapped around his neck, fingers playing in his hair. He sits up suddenly, climbing over her to make his way back to the kitchen.
"Whatchu 'finna do?" She asks, sitting up on her elbows.
"Don't worry 'bout that, lay back... And keep them eyes closed," he demands.
She smirks, curiosity reading heavily on her face, and follows his directions. He returns, briefly grabbing something from the closet, and approaches her unsuspecting form with a thick, black, silk ribbon in one hand, holding something else behind his back. He sets it on the nightstand next to her, and before she can open her eyes, he stands over her, his face inches away from hers.
"What'd I say?"
"Fine," she giggles. "No peaking."
He drags the ends of the ribbon down between her legs, trailing them over her mound and up her navel. She shutters as he brings the ribbon to brush along her collarbone.
"Head up," he demands.
She lifts her head as he places the ribbon over her eyes, securing it behind her head. He holds her face close to his and immediately places his tongue between her lips. She sucks on it hard, taking his lower lip with it. His already twitching length throbs even harder; he's been looking forward to this. He couldn't count how many times daydreams of her distracted him throughout the day. She knows exactly what she does to him; her kiss alone softens him, making him melt with each sweep of her tongue.
She grabs his face with both hands, desperate to get him on top of her, but he refuses. He leans into her only to grab both of her wrists and push them above her head, crossing and holding them both with a single, firm gripping hand. He takes her lower lip in between his, biting and pulling until he hears a sharp inhale.
"Don't. Move."
She moans lightly in agreement. He releases her, and she keeps her wrists where they are; she wouldn't dare move. He grabs something from the nightstand, then puts it back. She can hear him rubbing his hands together.
Cameron sits on the bed, positioning himself between Mia's eager legs without touching her, and she pouts with impatience.
"You know what I got for you?" He asks.
"No," she answers.
"What's that?" He asks, his tone getting heavier. She smirks; she knows that voice.
"No, sir."
"You WANNA know what I got for you?"
