The Love Series Complete Box Set (103 page)

“It’s at nine. Lia’s going to drive me on her way down.” Cammie shares a sad smile with her cousin. I know it’s going to be even more difficult for them to be a part. I don’t think they’ve ever been more than arm’s length away from each other.

“I still can’t believe you’re going to be working in Manhattan, Lia. That’s so freaking cool.” I sound like a giddy fan-girl or something like that, but there’s something really impressive about working in the city.

“I know. I am pretty awesome, huh?” Lia remarks as she flips her hair over her shoulder in a rather dramatic fashion. With the tension and sadness now broken, we break into a fit of giggles.

“I wouldn’t laugh so hard over there, Miss Melanie. You’re going to have to live with a boy.” Lia sticks her tongue out at me after dragging out the word “boy.”

Yep, that’s right. Bryan and I are moving in together and I couldn’t be happier. It was a no-brainer, really. It’s not every day that you get a second chance with your first love and we’re both determined to hold on with all of our might.

Rather than give her mocking any credence, I turn the tables back to Cammie. “So is she, you know.” In an equally playful manner, I also stick out my tongue and point my finger.

“Yeah, but Cammie and Jack are pretty much married already, so it doesn’t count.” Lia’s words are cut off as Cammie tosses the only remaining throw pillow at her face.

“We are not married.” She pauses before adding, “Yet.”

We all share a few more laughs before the reality of tomorrow morning settles in one last time. Even though we’re all heading off into different directions and it’s exciting in so many ways, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t scary as hell, too.

Staring blankly out of the window, I watch the bright, afternoon sun as it shimmers and dances across the rippling lake. We’re all shaken from our sad goodbyes when the front door slams shut, jarring the door frame. If there were any pictures left on the walls, they surely would have crashed to the floor.

“Peyton? Is that you?” My question is met only with a harsh groan from the kitchen.

As she walks into the living room, she nearly trips over a box at which she grits out a loud, “Fuck!” Twisting the cap on her water bottle, she flops down onto the smaller of the two couches while we stare at her, willing her to speak.

When she doesn’t say anything right away, Cammie, Lia and I exchange wary glances, wondering who should break the strangled silence. Before we can say anything, Peyton covers her face with her hand and starts crying. In the year and a half that I’ve known Peyton, she’s never cried. Ever.

Moving quickly, I sink down to the floor next to her and squeeze her knee gently. “What’s wrong, Peyton?” I ask softly, afraid that I might scare her away.

She’s not much of a sharer either.

When her breathing calms, she wipes away her tears. Straightening in her chair, she takes one final deep breath. “It’s nothing. Really, I’m fine.” The white-knuckled, death grip that she has on her water bottle says she’s anything but fine.

“You’re not fine. Please, talk to us.” Cammie’s kind words work their magic as usual.

“Something got fucked up down at the registrar’s office. Apparently, when I started here, one of my classes didn’t transfer, but no one thought to tell me.” Pulling her long hair back into a loose bun, she gives us a resolute nod. “So, it looks like I’ll be here for at least another semester. So much for moving back home, I guess

“Oh, Peyton. That sucks, sweetie,” Cammie offers her best condolences, but I’m fairly certain that it’s going to take more than a few apologies to make Peyton feel better right now.

In true Peyton fashion, she just shrugs her shoulders and rolls with the punches. “It’s okay. I mean I’ll survive. Just have to figure things out.”

“Do you want me to see if I can-” Peyton holds her hand up to stop me from speaking.

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. You are moving in with your man tomorrow and that’s that.” She takes a deep, calming breath as she gathers her thoughts. “One of my friends at the coffee shop has an extra room. I can stay with her until I find my own place for the fall.” Her words are final; her decision is made. I’m not even going to bother arguing with her. The last thing I want to do is change my plans with Bryan.

We spend the rest of the night eating pizza, drinking wine and reminiscing about our time together. Somewhere around our third glass, I have a brilliant idea.

“Let’s make a promise to have a girls’ weekend every three months. No matter what we’re doing, or what’s going on in our lives, we will get together every three months for one whole weekend.” I hold my white-wine-filled coffee mug up to the group. “I’ll even make Maddy join in. It’ll be so fun.”

Lia clangs her glass against mine first. “That’s a motherfucking-awesome idea!” Okay, the wine always hits Lia the hardest, but she’s a freaking riot when she’s tipsy.

“That could totally work,” Cammie adds with the same enthusiasm minus the cursing. “We could rotate between locations, too. This way we’d all get to see where everyone is living and how they’re doing.” At the mention of that idea, I notice Peyton shift somewhat uncomfortably in her seat, but she quickly recovers and says, “Cheers to that!” as she extends her mug.

In the blink of an eye, the night is over and we’re all stepping out onto the front porch trying to block the early morning sun. Somehow, we manage to croak out a few simple words of goodbye through our tears. Watching Lia and Cammie drive off physically hurts my heart, but at the same time, I couldn’t be happier for them.

I walk Peyton over to her car, helping her with the last of her bags and give her a tight squeeze. “Don’t get all emotional on me, Melanie. I’ll be back soon enough.” She smiles cheerfully at me, but I can see the tears shining in her eyes.

“Just please call me when you get home. Okay?” I say as I take a step back from our hug. She gets into her car and drives down the road waving her hand as she pulls away.

I get the last of my bags from the front steps and load them into my car. Bryan helped me move everything else over the last few days, so all I have left is a bag of my toiletries and suitcase filled with some clothes.

I stop on the bottom step and scan my flowerbed one last time. It used to be overgrown with weeds, the soil not rich enough to sustain any life. But, in the last year, I’ve made it my little pet project. I’ve nursed it back to health, kept it weed free, planted some of my favorite flowers and watched it grow into a thing of beauty.

Pulling the delicate, hot pink petals of a freshly bloomed stargazer lily up to my nose, I inhale its sweet scent. I consider snipping it from the stalk and bringing it with me, but I decide to leave it and let it bask in the warm summer sun.

It’s only a ten minute drive to my new apartment and Bryan is already up and waiting for me. Lugging my suitcase through the front door, the heavenly smell of freshly brewed coffee mingles in the air.

“Hey, baby. Coffee?” Bryan hands me a bright purple mug as he plants a sweet kiss to my cheek.

“You’re a lifesaver,” I mumble against the rim of the mug. After one too many glasses of wine last night and shedding more tears than I have in a long time, my brain is in serious need of some caffeine.

After a few sips, I put my mug down on the counter. Bryan grabs my bag in one hand and laces our fingers together with the other. “I want to show you something.”

He pulls me down the short hallway to what will be our bedroom. I’m less than enthused about it. It’s definitely a boy’s room, but I guess I’ll just have to call Lia for some decorating help.

Bouncing excitedly in front of the closed door, Bryan tells me to close my eyes. It’s too early for me to argue with him, especially when it’s clear that he’s got something up his sleeve, so I just roll my eyes and then close them.

When Bryan opens the door for me, my nose is inundated with the sweetest scent I’ve ever known. Unable to keep my eyes closed any longer, especially now that I know what the surprise is, I stare wide-eyed into the lily-filled room. “Bryan, this . . . wow . . . this is so sweet.” There must be dozens of lilies in a few vases scattered about the room. The fragrance is bold and distinct, but not at all overpowering. The petals are strong and vibrantly colored, resilient in their own way. Holding a bloom up to my nose, I inhale deeply as Bryan wraps his arms around my waist from behind. “I know they’re your favorite and I want my place to be
our
place. Besides, I know how you love your flowers so I wanted to have them waiting for you when you got here today.”

I turn to face him and plant a soft kiss on his lips. “They’re beautiful, Bryan. Thank you.”

“Anything for you, Melanie. I love you.” His lips dance along my neck and shivers race across my skin.

Leaning into his kisses, I mumble, “hmmm.” We stand there with our arms wrapped tightly around one another swaying to music that’s not even playing. Nuzzling into his warm chest, I inhale the combination of woodsy cologne and pure Bryan that makes my heart skip a beat.

“I love you too, Bryan. So much.” I stretch up on my toes and kiss him fiercely. When I begin to feel the effects of my kiss pressing into my lower belly, I pull back and arch an eyebrow at him.

Bryan winks and smirks at me, saying “What? He loves you too.”

“Oh my God! I can’t believe you just said that.” I laugh at him while hugging him tightly. “You’re such a dork.”

Staring down at me with a look that’s a mixture of seriousness and playfulness, he says, “Yeah, but I’m your dork.”

“Yes, you are. All mine.” With that statement, he effortlessly lifts me up and carries me over to the bed—which is covered in a very old and ratty ‘boy’ comforter. This place is in some desperate need of purple.

Dropping me rather unceremoniously on the mattress, his lips curl into a seductive grin. “Wanna christen the bed?”

Propping myself up on my elbows, I watch as he pulls his shirt over his head. His abs and chest make me incapable of speaking, so I just nod dumbly and prepare myself for delicious torment of our lovemaking.

As he presses his body down onto mine, in between sweet kisses, he mutters, “I can’t believe this is really real. I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to have you in my life every single day.”

Focusing my stare directly into his caramel-colored irises, I let a lusty breath fill my lungs. “Bryan, I’m the lucky one. You loved me when I thought that love was the last thing I deserved. You loved me when I didn’t even love me. I can’t say that I’m prefect; God knows I’m far from it, but I’m finally okay with that. I’m so lucky to have you in my life because you taught me how to love myself.” I pull his face down to mine and kiss him with all of the love I feel. With a look that’s a mixture of light-heartedness and desire, I mutter against his soft lips, “So after we christen the bed, can we christen the couch?”

The rumbles of his deep laughter vibrate against our pressed-together chests. Smiling sexily, he says, “Oh, we’ll get the couch. And then the kitchen table, and then the laundry room. And don’t forget the shower, too.”

As his lips and tongue work their magic across my skin, I know that today will be a great day.

And tomorrow, well, tomorrow will kick today’s ass.

The End

Acknowledgements

When I wrote
Let Love In
and
Let Love Stay,
I had no idea that there would be other books for the other characters. But, when readers fell in love with the supporting cast, I knew I had to write about them—and I knew Melanie’s story had to be next. What I didn’t know is what the heck I would write! When I was in the early stages of thinking about what to write, I came across a blog post from Monica at
If These Boobs Could Talk.
Monica had a simple request in her post (which can be read here—
http://siliconealley.blogspot.com/2013/07/hi.html
): to read about an average size, not-so-stick-thin heroine. It was after that post that Melanie truly came to life for me. Never having been a size two in my life, I always struggled with my body image and feeling beautiful. Ashamed of what I looked like, or what I thought people saw when they looked at me, I felt undeserving of love for so long. So sadly, Melanie’s story is my story in a lot of ways and I have a feeling that hers is the story of all too many women. No matter your size, I hope you have one take-away from
Let Love Heal
—you deserve love.

I owe a huge debt of gratitude to so many people that it would be impossible to list them all. The community of indie authors is warm and inviting and so utterly helpful. Whether you answered a question for me or helped me develop a scene, I want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Carey Heywood, who has earned the affectionate title of my Book Wifey—I will forever be thankful for our friendship. Our late night and early morning chats about all things book related—and lots of things not-so-book related help to keep me grounded and focused. And they make me laugh, a lot!

I have a truly amazing group of beta readers who have helped so much. Thank you Susan Griffiths, Laurna Hamilton, Malinda Burchett, Jennifer Diaz, Jennifer Short (my ninja fairy God mother), Kristy Bruno, Chelsea Camaron (thank you so much for loving my characters as much as I do) and Pamela Schaeffer (I’m so sorry for making you cry—but I’m not, really). Without your feedback, I know that
Let Love Heal
wouldn’t be what it is today.

I know that I wouldn’t have nearly as many readers as I do if it weren’t for the fantastic bloggers out there who have reviewed and promoted for me. There are too many to name, but please know that, whether it was sharing a post, doing a cover reveal, taking part in a tour or running a spotlight on me, I am so grateful for each and every single one of you. Debra, at Book Enthusiast Promotions, you are a God send. Thank you for everything. I don’t know how you do it, but I’m so glad that you do.

Angela McLaurin at Fictional Formats is my knight in shining armor. I’ll never forget how you came to my rescue at the last minute right before I published
Let Love Stay.
You’re finishing touches truly bring my words to life on both their virtual and paper pages.