Jaheim
Liana had completely shut down and shut me out. I’d still been showing up to The Bloom, but she’d perfected her schedule enough to avoid me most nights. I understood why she was upset. I hated that she wouldn’t let me explain.
Truthfully, I couldn’t even be mad at her.
I should’ve shut the Camille situation down before she ever walked into that bar. Instead, I ignored it and hoped it would disappear on its own, which looked exactly like what it was, me leaving a door cracked in case things with Liana went wrong.
That wasn’t intentional, but it was careless.
And careless was still damage.
I called and texted Liana enough times to earn the block sitting on my phone right now. I respected it, too. Or at least I had until Beau called me an hour ago.
Me: Liana, I was patient, wasn’t I?
Liana: How are you unblocked?
Me: Wrong Answer.
Her bubbles appeared but went away before coming back. Still, she didn’t respond, and that was my queue to give her stubborn ass the attention she so desperately wanted.
When Beau called me asking what was up with Liana because she was out grinning in another nigga’s face, I did my best to calm down because I had been exactly what I promised her.
Patient.
That had been my whole virtue when what I actually wanted was to scoop her up and put a ring on her finger. Right now, today, I would do it without a second thought.
I sat with that for about forty-five seconds.
Then I grabbed my keys.
Cleo’s was the only spot in Bloomington worth taking somebody if you were trying to impress them.
When I pulled up, I found them at a window table before I even reached the host stand.
Liana was in a two-piece skirt set that made me want to handle the situation differently than I originally planned.
Cortez Cole, a three-time Pro Bowl player, sat across from her, looking into her eyes and running his fucking mouth.
The possessiveness that hit me pissed me off immediately. I didn’t love the feeling, but there was no version of life I wanted where Liana wasn’t mine.
I got a table in his eyeline but out of hers, ordered a drink, and opened my laptop.
C&C Bourbon. Cortez Cole. Found him in under three minutes. His whole digital life spread across my screen and I ordered another drink on his dime before I did anything else.
The Pac-Man emblem went out first, so she’d know it was me when it was over.
Then his phone went dark.
I watched Cortez pick it up, frown at it, set it down. Try it again. Set it down harder.
Then I hit his card.
I watched him flag down the server and hand it over with the confidence of a man who had never been refused in his life. She came back with that look. Cortez took the card, stared at it, and flagged her again. Second card. Same result.
I laughed as Liana finally looked up from her glass.
I watched her eyes go to Cortez’s phone sitting face up on the table. The Pac-Man emblem was cycling through its faces, happy to sad to heart eyes, right there on his screen in the middle of Cleo’s. I was proud of that little shit too.
I watched it register across her face in real time, the emblem, then the declined card, then the dead phone, all of it adding up to one person in about four seconds flat.
Her eyes swept the room and found me in the corner with my laptop and my drink, unbothered.
I closed the laptop and waved.
She stood, and so did I. She took off toward me, and I intercepted her, turning her by the waist back to her seat.
“Liana, sorry about this. I’m a ball player, you know, I got money.”
He noticed me and mugged me as I did the same.
“Trini, was the scampi better than mine?” I asked, turning her chin towards me.
“Yo kid, you’re interrupting our dinner. Liana, you know him?”
Liana opened her mouth, and I answered before she could.
“Kid? Nigga I look like a kid to you?” I pulled out a chair and sat down at their table like I’d been invited. “Jaheim. And you’re Cortez Cole. Trini, do I need to cover this meal?”
Cortez cut his eyes to me. Then his phone. Then back to me.
“You did that.”
“I’ll fix it when we’re done here,” I said.
“Jah.” Liana’s voice was as low as I’d ever heard it.
“Was the scampi better than mine?” I asked again, turning to face her. “Be honest.”
“You need to leave.”
“I need a menu, actually. I ain’t ate shit all day. And if I don’t eat, this can get significantly worse. You feel me?”
Cortez leaned forward. “Aye man, I don’t know what’s going on between y’all but?—”
“Nothing’s going on,” Liana said.
“Something’s going on,” I corrected. “This what we on?”
Cortez looked between us, then leaned back in his chair with the quiet resignation of a man who suddenly understood he had already lost.
“I should be asking you. I thought we were seeing other people.”
“Oh, you thought we were seeing other people,” I repeated. “When exactly did we discuss that, Bloom?”
Cortez cleared his throat. “Look man, respectfully?—”
“Get the fuck from this table,” I said, not taking my eyes off Liana. “Me and my lady need a minute.”
Her mouth flew open.
Cortez cut his eyes to Liana. Liana's eyes came to me.
To his credit the man read the room, pushed back from the table, and stood up with his drink in hand. He pointed at his phone. I pulled mine out and fixed it in thirty seconds. His card too. He checked both, nodded once at Liana.
“And don’t even try to reach out, I deleted that shit. Be easy.”
Beau’s teammate had more sense than I gave him credit for.
I turned back to Liana.
She was sitting straight up with her arms crossed, jaw tight, fully prepared to go to war with me in the middle of Cleo’s. I let her take her time because I had all night and nowhere else to be.
“My lady,” she said.
“You heard me.”
“Jaheim, you did way too much. Why are you even here?”
“Liana, you wanted me here. You got me here, and I plan to stay until we decide to leave.”
Her jaw tightened. Her attention dropped to the table for a second before lifting back to me, and I watched some of the fight leave her.
“Why are you eating dinner with another nigga anyway, Liana? I was free tonight.” My eyes dropped to the table setup before landing back on her. “You want real dates, let me do that. I want to. Nigga ain’t even think to bring flowers.”
“It was business,” she said, trying to hide her grin. “He wants The Bloom to carry his C&C bourbon.”
I nodded slowly.
“So it wasn’t a date?”
“Not to me. Was Camille a date?”
“No. And I told you that. You decided that didn’t matter and I paid for it for a week because that was my bad. Camille had texted a few times, and I just ignored her. That was on me…”
“This wasn’t supposed to be a date. It was supposed to be lunch, but he rescheduled it for tonight. I’m sure that was on purpose.”
I leaned back and took her hands in mine.
“What are we doing, Liana?”
She looked down at our hands before answering.
“I don’t know yet.”
Honest.
Frustrating.
Real.
I could’ve pushed harder, but something told me not to.
So instead, I paid for dinner, took her home, and spent the entire drive realizing I was in deeper than I meant to be.