Page 26 of This: Blake & Emon

“I sure have. Even been myself. You go in and you grab what you need at no charge. Those the type of people God finds favor in. Don’t let a good one go. Yall’s hearts seem to match. What a blessing.”

Blake squeezed her hand before leaving the room and returning to the nurses’ station. Ms. Rose was right. Emon and Blake shared a heart for people and helping them when they needed it.

She sat and checked the time, anticipating her surprise delivery but also knowing she had some work to do.

“For you, Ms. Bishop,” she heard above her. Looking up, she saw Dr. Cameron sliding a coffee across the nurses’ station. “You’ve been amazing with the Thompson case.”

Blake smiled politely, continuing to update her charts, because she wasn’t interested, and as much as Emon had been up to see her at work, she wasn’t sure how he hadn’t caught on. When she interacted with him, she kept it short and to the point. “Just doing my job.”

She didn’t want to give him the wrong impression, and she damn sure didn’t want Emon to get the wrong impression.

“Well, you do it better than most.” He lingered. “Maybe we could discuss your bedside manner over dinner?”

“Dinner?” Blake asked through squinted eyes. How did he miss the memo? She was already someone’s dinner.

“Yeah, it ain’t no secret I’ve been feeling you for a while. I’m just saying maybe give me a chance.” She smiled, trying to keep it polite.

“I have a boyfriend. I thought you knew that, Dr. Cameron.”

“I do, but you need a man. Someone that fits for you.”

“And what fit is that?”

Before Blake could get a response, a familiar cologne filled the air. She looked up to see Emon walking down the hall, carrying a massive bouquet of orange tulips. Several nurses stopped to stare, both at the flowers and the fine man carrying them.

“Special first of the month love for my baby,” Emon said, setting the flowers on the counter. His eyes flickered briefly to Dr. Cameron before returning to Blake. “Couldn’t let my girl start her new beginning without some flowers.”

Blake stood and came around to embrace Emon. She loved that he participated in her first of the month ritual. Even though her dad wasn’t around anymore, Blake kept the tradition to treat herself to something nice every month like her father would. It was silly, but it was her way of reminding herself thatself love and care were a must. She appreciated Emon joining in on it, too, because he didn’t have to.

“Flowers again?” Cameron asked, trying to maintain his presence in the conversation, although his presence was most certainly not needed. Blake regretted being nice to him, even though it was harmless, and that she was just a nice person.

“Yeah, and what about it?” Emon replied smoothly, his hand finding the small of Blake’s back. Emon was confused as to why he was still in their face, but he also understood. Blake was fine, gorgeous, she was smart, and she was probably his type, but that was too bad, because when it was all said and done, Emon was going to be her last. The heavens had already lined it up.

Blake bit back a smile, noting how Dr. Cameron’s confident demeanor deflated slightly.

“Thank you, baby. They’re perfect,” she said, hoping he would get the hint. She didn’t have to get his feelings hurt and stepped on anymore. As far as Blake was concerned, she had no desire for anyone else.

“Anything for you.” Emon’s eyes held hers, communicating so much more than the words. Dr. Cameron hadn’t budged, and she couldn’t believe it or understand it. She giggled a little bit at him standing there like a watchdog or security. Awkward. No one was afraid of him or thinking about him. She did, however, hope he found someone for him. It just wasn’t going to be her.

“Let me holla at you a little bit, privately.”

There was something about Dr. Cameron hanging around his woman that Emon didn’t like. He wasn’t jealous or worried. He just didn’t like it, and boy math told him that was his right. Emon thought maybe Dr. Cameron wasn’t getting the hint, or maybe his woman wasn’t making it clear that he was it. There’d be no other niggas as long as he had something to say about it, but something a lot more upsetting crossed his mind. Maybe shewas unsure about them. He shook that thought from his head and decided he was about to find out.

“Yes,” she said as she led him away to a small closet down the hall, giving them a little bit of privacy.

“What’s up with this nigga? Every time I come around he lingering around you like he got an itch he wanna scratch. You like him, love?” he asked, quickly sucking the air out of the small closet, drawing so close to her their chests touched. His cinnamon gum tickled her nose. He was so close.

“No, never. Be serious,” she said with a slight chuckle, thinking he couldn’t be serious. The look on his face told her he was absolutely on bullshit. Had to be.

“You sure about that?” he asked lightly, playing with the soft skin near her panty line. The sensation tickled, and she hissed. Her mind was going a mile a minute. She should’ve known he was on bullshit when he asked to speak privately.

“Not here, bae, please. I’m at work.”

“You don’t tell me what to do and you know that begging does something to me,” he said, swirling his tongue on the side of her neck and lightly sucking. His hand was now completely in her pants, gripping her bare ass cheek.

“I know, but not here,” she whimpered, but her body was saying something different—as it always did when he was around.

“You unsure about me?” His voice was low, dangerous. He wasn’t interested in anything she had to say right now. Even though he didn’t believe she could be unsure about them, he needed to make certain his woman knew exactly who she belonged to.

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