My Way Series: Books 1-3

by H. J. Bellus

  The sound of Miles’ bare feet making it back to the bed make me come alive again, instinctively I roll over to his side of the bed and watch as he climbs back in.

  “What’s the smile for?” he asks.

  “I like your bed, that’s all,” I whisper.

  “Willow, I like you in my bed,” he whispers back to me.

  Digging deep down, I scoot over and cuddle up to him.

  “Willow…”

  “I want this, Miles.”

  With my go ahead, Miles wraps me up in his arms and I snuggle down even deeper and closer to him. With my face completely hidden and my fears gone, I finally allow myself to relax into this man.

  “You have no idea how happy you make me, Willow.”

  “I think I know. Tell me something about you. We always talk about me. Tell me something.”

  I lift my head, coming nose to nose with Miles, and I instantly regret my question. Pain is clearly covering every part of his face. Before I can take it back, he answers.

  “When I was little, I loved collecting Matchbox cars, but my mom never bought them for me. I would walk to the nearby playgrounds and look for lone cars in the sandbox that other kids left behind.”

  “Thank you for sharing and taking care of me, Miles.”

  “You’re welcome. Thanks for staying with me.”

  “I’m gonna sleep now, Miles. I really can’t keep my eyes open any longer.”

  Silence.

  “I have one last question. If I wasn’t high as a kite or look like I’ve been kick boxed by an ape, you know, would you have shagged me today in that sexy ass car of yours?”

  Miles pops up on his elbows, hovering above me with the sexiest, yet goofiest grin on his face.

  “You bet your ass I would have. We probably would have done it sideways, missionary, and doggie.”

  Good to know. Miles rolls off me to the side and I morph into the little spoon, making sure I stay plastered to him, and I let the medicine do its job.

  4:34 AM.

  Pulse. Throb. Slice. Pounding pain. The reality of the cruel pain throbbing in my mouth finally wakes me. A silent horrified gasp escapes at the realization that I’m not in my own bed. I turn to see Miles plastered to me, and it all slowly comes back to me, one embarrassing and heartfelt memory at a time. I nuzzle right back down into the best sheets ever and stare at Miles through my pain.

  This man took care of me when I couldn’t function. He picked up my meds, talked to my dentist, and fed me. He did all of this because…because I have been a royal bitch to him? Because I have tried to make his life a living hell? Because I wouldn’t let him in my life even as a friend?

  He’s the one person that has honestly tried to help me, not fix me, but help me. When he left last weekend, I missed everything about him. I missed his annoying comments and pesky conversations while I try to work. I missed trying not to laugh at his jokes, and I definitely missed him. I missed it all and never told him.

  I brush his hair from his face and trace the strong outline of his jaw. My lips brush his forehead and I lightly place a kiss on his forehead.

  “Miles, I’m so sorry for how I’ve treated you. I’m done protecting myself. I want to let you in my life. I’ve never told you what I should have…I’m falling in love with you and I don’t want to miss another minute with you. I’m not strong enough to tell you this when you’re awake, so this will have to do for now. I might be brave enough one day, I just hope it’s not too late. I now see that I belong with you. I deserve you and I promise to never let you go.”

  I untangle myself from Miles, snag the pills he set out for me, and make my way to the kitchen. Fuck water. I grab Miles’ jug of orange juice from the fridge and use it to swallow my pills. Next, I grab a fortune cookie and my purse. It takes awhile, but I find my notebook and paste my two new fortunes in it. Then with one huge leap of faith, I take a look at myself and let it all go. I begin to write to Miles, my old self, my future self, and all my troubles. It hurts and stings like hell, but my venom is pouring onto the paper, freeing itself from me, allowing me to keep my promise to Miles. It is just a small step. But a step in the right direction.

  Dear Little Notebook,

  A dear friend gifted me this notebook to express myself. I’m sorry I threw you in the trash twice. I am fortunate enough to have a friend who cares so deeply for me that he’s not willing to give up hope.

  Tonight, I took a leap of faith and made a very important promise to myself. In order to keep true to that promise, I vow to scribble “me” all over your blank pages in the upcoming days in an attempt to let go of my deep seated pain. I hope you’re ready for this crazy ride that is about to take place. You know my name, but not my story…here goes.

  Willow

  My eyelids remind me of the grand effect the painkillers have. I check the time and notice that I have been writing for over an hour. After writing the first note it was easy to open up in my notebook. I didn’t write anything painful or necessarily deep—rather I shared some of my favorite moments from life, and I even sketched a couple of doodles.

  After placing the notebook on Miles’ side of the bed, I crawl back into my side. The sheets once again remind me how amazingly comfortable I am in this bed.

  “You okay, Willow?” Miles mumbles out, as he sits up to face me.

  “I’m fine. Just had to take more pain pills.”

  “Are you still hurting? Why didn’t you wake me?”

  I continue to climb across the bed and into Miles’ lap. I straddle him, resting my knees in the bed and wrap my arms around his neck. “Because I’m a big girl, Miles.”

  My actions render him completely speechless, and with a shake of his head, he rolls us back down into the bed. I end up on top of him and try to scoot to his side and resume my position as the comfy little spoon. Instead, he grabs my hips and holds me.

  “Stay here,” he whispers as he falls back asleep.

  My body melts into his, my brain turns off, and I drift away.

  ***

  Ring-ding-ding-ding-dingeringeding! Gering-ding-ding-ding-dingeringeding! Gering-ding-ding-ding-dingeringeding! What does the fox say?

  Where in the hell is that annoying sound coming from?

  Gering-ding-ding-ding-dingeringeding!

  Oh shit, my phone. I turn to see my bright yellow iPhone on the worn wooden crate on my side of the bed, and sure enough it’s lighting up, alerting me to a call. Annie. The little shit is always changing my ringtone. For the last month, “All the Single Ladies” was my ringtone.

  By the time I reach my phone, it’s too late. I drop back into the sheets and turn to see an empty bed. My notebook lay open on Miles’ vacant side. I try to call out his name, but realize my face has swelled up at least double its size. My hand runs over my balloon size cheek. Feeling defeated, I lie back down and snuggle in, sniffing around for Miles’ scent.

  Ring-ding-ding-ding-dingeringeding!

  For the love of all things Annie, if this phone doesn’t shut up, I’m going to throw it out the freakin’ window.

  “Wello,” I manage to get out of my swollen mouth.

  “Holy shit! Is it true? Did you sleep with Miles? Did you get your freak on? Is your yoo-whoo sore? Because if it is, I’ll be needing a description of just exactly how large his member is.”

  “Lacey, enough,” I demand.

  “Okay, Rose and I are heading to pick you up and bring you home. Do you need like thirty or so for another round with dream boy?”

  “Gear it down, bitchface. Come get me now.”

  I hear the door slam. The vibrations send pain shooting through my jaw again and I start to cry just like a little girl who lost her puppy on a rainy day.

  “Willow, what’s wrong?”

  Miles swiftly makes his way to my side of the bed and wraps his arms around me. With the dangerous concoction of pain killers, emotional distress, my heart wanting to love, and the sheer pain from my mouth, I can’t control the sobs escaping me.


  “I’m here, Willow. What’s wrong?”

  “I hurt. I hurt everywhere. And I wrote. I wrote to you, and you left…”

  Miles lifts me further up into his lap. “Sshh, baby. I was downstairs packaging up cupcakes and that wedding cake, and then I waited for the customers to pick them up so you don’t have to worry about anything today.”

  He hands me a pill and some water, and without hesitation I swallow the meds and play with the button on his flannel shirt.

  “The notebook,” I whisper, so silently in hopes that he doesn’t hear me.

  “Don’t ever feel like you have to share with me, but I will always be here to read.”

  “I felt better after I wrote in it last night. It was hard, but it felt good. Oh, and thanks for taking care of the bakery shit.”

  Miles lays me down in his arm and cradles me like a baby. He brushes my loose hair away from my face and then strokes my swollen jaw, and with that gesture the tears are back.

  “Miles, will you be my friend?”

  He starts to chuckle and then slightly bends over to place another tender kiss on my jaw. “I want that more than you know, Willow. I need you in my life.” He winks and then kisses my cheek again.

  “Do friends get kisses?” I ask with a sly smile.

  “They do when they have owies,” Miles whispers.

  “Lacey is coming to pick me up to take me home, so you can go to work.”

  Miles rests his head on top of mine and continues to stroke my hair, and lets out a loud puff of air. “I want you to stay here.”

  “Miles—”

  Before I finish my thought, he interrupts me. “I know. Too pushy, right? You know, I just figured by stuffing those little bastard cupcakes into that box, I might have earned me a point or two.”

  I start laughing at his description of my bastard cupcakes and the image of him stuffing them in a box. Oh good lord, I hope they’re halfway presentable.

  “Come see me tonight, deal?”

  “Deal. But if I’m being honest, Tripp scares the piss out of me.”

  Through my laughter, I manage to say, “He shouldn’t. He has a heart of gold.”

  The next however many minutes escape us as Miles holds me in his arms as his friend.

  “Oh my God! It doesn’t smell like sex in here at all. Couldn’t get the fella up, Miles? I sure in the hell didn’t target you as a softy.” Enter Lacey, holding a bundle of pink with bright blonde hair peeking out from the blankets. I really need to invest in a muzzle for this girl. I climb from Miles’ lap and start to grab my things.

  “Oh sweet Jesus, I see now why he couldn’t get it up. Your face. Holy mother lovin’ hell, it looks like—”

  “Enough. I know how I look. I’ll meet you in the car.”

  “Okay, Jabba the Hutt. Gonna grab some lemon bars first.”

  Lacey whirls around on a mission to steal her favorite dessert and I turn to Miles. “It’s not Tripp you have to worry about.” With a hug and a quick kiss, I make my way to the door.

  “Do I have an owie?” Miles asks.

  “You have a scrape on your knuckle.”

  An hour later:

  Miles: How are you feeling?

  Willow: Who is this?

  Miles: Your new friend.

  Willow: Which one? I have so many, you know with my lovable personality and all…

  Miles: You know the one with the best sheets ever and the hot body you tried to molest with your eyes last night.

  Willow: Oh my kissing friend…my fave one.

  Miles: See you tonight.

  Willow: Can’t wait.

  “Why are you smiling at your phone like a crazed clown killer? I think you need to cool it on the pain pills, Sis,” Tripp says.

  “It’s because she’s in love. Miles and Willow sitting in a tree…” Lacey taunts from the kitchen. I forgot I had an audience. Tripp is home for lunch and clearly enjoying the show.

  I throw the nearest pillow in Lacey’s direction from the couch, and in retaliation she throws a piece of pepper jack cheese my way. I snag the cheese and flip her the bird.

  “Oh, you cheeky little cunt,” Lacey yells as she makes her way to me.

  “God damn it, Lacey, clean up your fucking mouth,” Tripp yells with baby Rose snuggled up on his chest sleeping.

  Lacey ignores the scolding from Tripp, but in her defense she receives about twenty of them a day. Whoever thought motherhood would tame down Lacey was dead wrong. Her fiery attitude has quadrupled since Rose was born. I have pity on the poor fool who crosses Rose. Between Tripp and Lacey, they’re likely to die a very long, horrid death.

  Lacey pounces on me. By pouncing, I mean jumps on me, straddles me, and goes for my phone. It was either the cheese or my phone, and with my tummy growling, I chose to save the cheese.

  “Oh, this is juicy shit.”

  Tripp makes his way over to the couch, lays Rose on my chest, and kisses the top of Lacey’s head. He keeps himself lowered so he can read the texts along with her. His eyebrows shoot up as I reposition Rose. With Lacey straddled across my hips and my brother peering down at my phone, I wait for the verdict.

  Moments pass and Trip asks, “Why in the fuck do you know how his sheets feel?”

  “Babe, they didn’t do the nasty. There was absolutely no trace of sex in the air, I can attest to that. I want to know how he got your number finally.”

  “I want to know why in the fuck you’re kissing your friends,” Tripp demands right after Lacey.

  “He must have saved it in his phone when I was sleeping at one point because I never gave it to him,” I suggest.

  “That’s hot. That’s like movie shit romance right there,” Lacey declares as she elbows Tripp in the gut.

  “I need to get to know this ass on a deeper level,” Tripp responds.

  “Tripp, you have spent plenty of time with him,” I remind my big brother, who is now in full attack mode.

  “I don’t know him as in ‘I’m the guy that wants to boink your sister.’ That takes getting to know on a whole new level.”

  “Fine then, because he’s kinda coming to see me tonight,” I squeak out.

  “Perfect.” Tripp chuckles.

  To say Tripp has become over protective since I moved in is an understatement. I do believe it’s time to start praying.

  Chapter 8

  Movie Night

  Dear Little Notebook,

  Friends. We have been friends for a little over three weeks. Friends that kiss occasionally, cuddle excessively and deliberately brush up against each other’s very private parts. Miles is currently my life. We spend every evening together, take Annie out on Mondays and Wednesdays, and we even added Thursday movie nights at Miles’ place.

  I told him that I can only spend one night a week in his bed because I don’t trust myself to not give in. The harsh reality is that my heart is in love with Miles, but not ready to be broke again. He never complains about not moving faster. We do have a running joke about his constant boner.

  Cree and I have melded back into our comfortable relationship. Tripp has grilled Miles about every part of his life. Lacey continues to beg me to measure Miles’ dick. And Milly is constantly holding her breath praying for my happiness

  I’m not confident enough to say it out loud to anyone, but I can whisper it here in my journal. I think I am happy, very happy for the first time in a long time.

  Happy,

  Willow

  Tonight is movie night. Our movie nights consist of buying tons of shit at the store, arguing over a movie (I always win) and crashing at Miles’ place. Just like kids, we eat in the bed, throw our cans on the ground, and stay up way too late. Last week, I begged Miles to rent Where the Red Fern Grows and we both ended up bawling like babies.

  Miles tried to lighten the mood by tickling me and that night we went from kissing friends to make out friends. A call from Miles’ boss put the brakes on our sucking face session. I would have let Miles take every single piece
of me that night. The memory of Miles towering over me and lifting his shirt off his head effortlessly and then covering my body with his lips ravaging mine will always be my favorite.

  We both growled our irritation at being interrupted and then he went out on a service call. Apparently, an eighteen wheeler broke down out on the highway and Miles was on call. During our drive I wrote in my notebook, and Miles and I made a pact to name our future dogs Dan and Annie. We both signed the page.

  Only three more hours until Miles will walk through that door and we get our night started. I can’t believe I have turned into that girl. The girl who gushes over a guy only because he makes her feel that way. Miles makes me believe that I deserve him and his love.

  Ding!

  I look up to see her. Greyson’s wife. I’m the only one in the shop for the next couple hours, so no avoiding this train wreck. Think Miles, channel his love, gather your courage, you can do this, Willow. Then my eyes land on her protruding belly, and all thoughts of hope and bravery drain out of me. She’s having Greyson’s baby. The thought of him being excited about it takes me back to that day, the day he handed me the check. My eyes quickly avert from their growing baby to a lone fortune cookie on my workstation and I suddenly remember what love is supposed to feel like. I remember Miles and I instantly want him. I need him to forget the hurt and loss Greyson bestowed upon me. I need Miles right now.

  “Um. Excuse me. Are you Willow?”

  I grip onto my phone, needing to call Miles, and unable to respond.

  “Um, hello.”

  “Yes,” I barely whisper as I directly try to force my tears back down.

  “Okay, well, I’m Roxy. I’m new in town. Actually, I married Greyson. I believe he’s a close family friend of yours. Well, anyway, I need to order a cake for my baby shower. My mom and sister are throwing it, but they won’t be in town in time to order it. Greyson told me specifically not to come here, but I saw your work at the Henderson wedding last week and was amazed. I’m sure Grey-Grey thought a small town bakery wouldn’t do me justice, but your work is simply amazing.”