January (Calendar Girl #1) (13 page)

“You made lunch, too? A girl could get used to this. Amazing pancakes and now this? Let me guess, a gourmet turkey made with hummus and the freshest veggies?” I cocked a brow, and he covered his mouth while he snickered.

“Think again, princess.” He handed me half a sandwich.

“Peanut butter and jelly?” I looked down and shook my head then took a bite of the creamy sandwich. It had the perfect ratio of peanut butter to berry jelly. He grinned and handed me a thermos. I expected water, but it ended up being ice cold milk. Perfection. “Milk?”

“Only the best for you, Ms. Mia.” He took a big bite then grabbed for the milk.

“You know, PB & J is actually my favorite sandwich.” His eyes widened. “It is. Seriously. I love it. And you know what, I love this. Sitting here with you after a long ride. It’s…well, I’ll remember this, Wes. Being here with you. This month has been the best of my life. And not just the sex.” His eyebrows rose. “Okay, maybe the sex.” We both laughed.

He took another swallow of milk then responded. “I know what you mean. Being with you is easy.” I cocked my head to the side and he grinned. “Not
easy
easy. Just…it feels good. You don’t make me work for it. Your needs are simple, and you’re not a drama queen. I didn’t think a relationship could be like that.”

“Never was easy for me, either. Always something in the way,” I admitted. Wes looked off into the distance as I stared at his profile. As far as beautiful men go, Weston Channing was tops. He didn’t even have to try to look good. He was naturally good looking. Casual, professional, even when he’d just woken up and sleep crust was in his eyes, he was still heart-stoppingly gorgeous. But right now, sharing this private span of beach with me, sharing a bit of himself, that made him irresistible. “Have you ever been in love?”

His eyes shot to mine, a hint of a smile on his lips. He leaned back onto his elbows and shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. A couple times I thought maybe, but like I said, it was never easy. I think when you love someone it should be easy. Things should just fall into place, you know?”

I nodded. “The planets, moons, and stars align and everything just works right?”

He laughed. “Something like that. You?”

“Me what?”

“Have you been in love?” I thought long and hard about his question. So much so, that his hand came up to my shoulder and gripped tenderly. “You don’t have to tell me.”  

“No, it’s not that. It’s just it would be easier to ask me if I haven’t fallen in love. In some way, I’ve fallen in love with every last man I’ve ever been with. Unfortunately, now, sitting here with you, I’m questioning whether I was actually in love, lust, or maybe just overwhelmed by them.”

“Why do you think that is?”

I laughed, brought my legs up into my chest and tucked my chin onto my knees. “Not sure. It feels different with you.”

“So you’ve been with me a month. Admitted that the sex has been the best of your entire life.” I rolled my eyes at him but he kept on. “Agreed that it’s different with me. Does that mean you love me?”

“Maybe,” I said honestly not really knowing how else to respond.

“Well, fuck me.”

“We’re going to do that later, remember. Anticipation?” I reminded him.

Wes laughed and then turned on his side and propped his head on his hand. “What if I said I was falling in love with you?”

“Wes,” I warned. He knew better than to go that route.

“No, let’s just talk this out for a minute.” He forced me to lean back and mimic his pose so we were lying on our sides looking into one another’s eyes. “If you maybe love me and I’m falling in love with you, shouldn’t we do something about it?”

I smiled. “We are. We’re going to stay friends. You’re going to go to work and direct your film. We’ll stay in contact, and when my debt is paid…” I looked deeply into his eyes and stopped.

“When your debt is paid then what?”

“I come back home to LA where you are,” I offered.

“But you’re still going to leave tomorrow.” The sadness in his green eyes stole my breath. It was long moments before I could respond.

“Yes. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

He nodded and looked down. “So, then when you come back…” This time his words trailed off.

“I don’t want you waiting for me, Wes. If you find something good with someone, you take advantage of it. Have fun. A man like you, who looks the way you do, is not going to have a hard time finding someone to warm your bed.”

“Is that what you’re going to do? Let your clients warm your bed?” His tone was hard, harsher than I expected, but I knew what we were talking about was dangerous territory. It had the power to ruin everything we’d come to have over the past month and could ever have in the future. It was time to tread lightly.

“I’m just saying that for this year, we’re going to go our separate ways. We’re going to do whatever we want.”

He let out a long, slow breath and sat up. “That means you’re not going to wait for me.” A quick burst of air left his nose, like he was holding back a huff.

I shook my head. “No. I’m going to do what feels right at the time, for me. And I want you to do the same. But I don’t want to lose you in my life.”

He licked his lips then grabbed my hand, bringing it up to his mouth for a kiss. “I don’t want to lose you either. It’s just, I’m trying to find a place where letting you go is okay. Because it doesn’t feel right.”

I gripped his hand tight then brought it to my lips for a return kiss. “It doesn’t for me either, but it’s what’s going to happen. Please respect that. Can you do that for me? And in the future, we’ll just see where we’re at. That has to be enough.”

“It’s nowhere near enough, Mia. If it’s all I’ve got, it will have to do for now.” He pulled me into his side and hugged me tight. I held on knowing that soon, I’d be letting go.

***

All my stuff was loaded into the SUV, and I watched as it pulled out of Wes’s driveway headed towards my apartment. The driver had the key to my tiny box and would put the clothing in and leave the key with the super.

Wes was expecting me to be here when he got home so we could have one last meal together. Unfortunately, I knew that doing so would break me. More than that, it would ruin me. After our time on the beach yesterday, we went back to his home and spent the entire afternoon into the evening making love. That’s what it was. It wasn’t fucking or having sex. We made love, over and over again until we were exhausted and passed out, snuggled together in his giant bed. Then he got a call that forced him to go into the studio this morning. He said he’d be home at six to take me out for our last dinner. Except I wouldn’t be there. It would be too hard to say goodbye like that after everything we’ve been through.

Instead, I decided to share my thoughts with him on paper, writing him a cliché, but heartfelt, Dear John letter. Basically, I was a coward.

Weston Charles Channing, III,

Writing your name out like that cracks me up. Have you ever said your name out loud? Do it. For me. It’s funny. You’ll laugh. I did.

In all seriousness, I want to thank you for this month. I was expecting to hate every second of this job and instead, it ended up being the most exciting thing I’ve ever done in my life. Meeting you has been a gift. You’re a gift, Wes. I know that sounds cheesy and I almost scratched it out, but you need to hear it from someone who cares. And I do care. A lot. More than I should.

Being with you, spending time together, has changed me, for the better I think. I now feel as though I can get through this year and learn something from it, aside from just saving my dad. I think I’m going to be saving myself. It’s time for me to live for me. If I stayed and let you take care of my problems, pay off my dad’s debt, I would regret it every day of my life. It would always hang over my head and our relationship. Leaving this way, I’m leaving on my terms. And I’m leaving us still good friends. The best of friends. Friends with benefits?

Am I sad leaving? Yes. I don’t want to leave, but you already knew that. I know what I’m doing sucks for the both of us, but I also know it’s the only way I can truly be free. What’s that saying? ‘If you love someone set it free and if it doesn’t come back it wasn’t meant to be?’

I hope to come back one day. If it’s meant to be, it will be, right? If it’s not, we will always have a friend we can count on. I truly hope you understand that and where these words are coming from. I wish you the best. Your movie is going to blow everyone away because you wrote it, and your words are beautiful.

This morning when you thought I was asleep and you kissed me goodbye you said softly, “Remember me.” Wes, I promise, I’ll never forget our time together but most importantly, I’ll never forget you.

With everything that I am,

~Mia

Then I kissed the letter right next to my name leaving a set of fat pink lips. One last kiss for Wes.

***

The next couple of days were a nightmare of appointments my Aunt Millie scheduled for me prior to meeting hot artist guy, Alec Dubois. The hair and nail appointments were pleasant, if not boring as hell. I dig pretty things as much as the next girl, but spending four fucking hours getting your hair done, and another two for your feet and nails is ridiculous. After that, Millie had me with the aesthetician.

An aesthetician is another name for torture mistress. They start with a relaxing facial where they fill your senses with these beautiful scents, calming music, and a facial massage. Then they bust out the bright spotlight. Your choices at that point are close your eyes or lose a retina. The eye closing is designed to help you when they bring forth the excavator, I mean the “extractor.” Otherwise known as a pimple popping, blackhead digging shovel that removes every pore on your face of the nasty gunk your daily makeup leaves behind. It’s serious business, but I will say, my face never looked better. Bright, flawless skin that felt like a baby’s ass. It was so smooth to the touch.

Then my day turned to complete and utter shit. I had to get waxed. Everywhere. The artist had very specific requirements. If I was going to drop my clothes, and he was going to drop an additional twenty -five thousand, I needed to be hairless everywhere but my head. The peach fuzz on my arms was okayed thankfully. My nether regions, not so much. If you’ve never had the pleasure of getting a Brazilian wax, consider yourself lucky. First, your assailant, I mean aesthetician, covers every inch of your lady bits with hot wax barely this side of scalding. Once that cools and hardens into a hard surface, the skin is held down while they proceed to rip a layer of skin and every single hair out leaving your bits hairless, smooth and looking less like a woman and more like a little girl.

It’s demoralizing, and I can’t imagine why women would willingly go through this if they weren’t getting paid the big bucks. At least I know I’m getting a payout at the end of my suffering. What’s their excuse?

                        ***

My phone beeped from my back pocket. I’d received a text. People were still getting settled before take-off, so I could check the message and maybe even have time for a reply.

From: Wes Channing

To: Mia Saunders

Got your letter. Sorry I didn’t contact sooner. I thought it would be better if I gave it time. Want to wish you safe travels. There’s something in your bag in the front pocket. I’ll call you soon. Remember me.

I smiled and pulled the pack from under the seat in front of me. Inside the front pocket was a small black box about three inches wide by an inch tall. Once I opened it, the item inside made me smile so wide I thought my cheeks might burst. Inside the box was a brass key dangling from a small yellow and pink surfboard. It was the key I used while I lived with Wes. My key. Only this time, the keychain had a small addition. A sparkly red heart dangled alongside the surfboard.

A note sat jammed at the bottom of the box. I opened it.

Mia,

You forgot your key. It opens a lot more than a door. One day I hope you’ll use it.

~Wes

With purpose, I pulled out my keys to Suzi and my apartment and attached the surfboard and key to Wes’s house. His intention couldn’t be any clearer. If I wanted to come back to him, I would need to be ready to give him my heart because I already had his.

Mia’s journey is continued in
Calendar Girl: February
. Keep reading for an excerpt.

Excerpt from February: Calendar Girl (Book 2)

The twisted and rusted iron gates clanged loudly together as the driver pulled them down, locking them in place. He hadn’t uttered a word other than, “You Mia?” when I came down the escalator at Portland International Airport baggage claim. I figured it was safe to follow him since he had a sign with my full name on it and Aunt Millie told me to expect a giant lumberjack of a man to drive me to my next client. The giant part was no joke and it wasn’t his height. Guy stood only a couple inches taller than me but what he made up for in length he made up for in width. Reminded me of a pro wrestler or one of those beefy body builders.

Once the elevator made it to floor ten it came to a screeching, grinding halt, jolting me into Paul Bunion’s baby brother. He was a solid wall, didn’t even flinch when I bumped into him, just grunted like an animal. The giant doors opened and Bunion pulled open the gates and ushered me into what seemed to be an open warehouse. The rafters and piping were visible and no less than fifty feet above the concrete floor. People were milling around everywhere, half of them naked.

What the fuck did I get myself into?

Cameras were clicking, lighting units were being moved around on wheeled carts as I stood in the entryway attempting to take it all in. Bunion set my bag off to a side wall and pointed to a man crouched down, a camera glued to his face. “Mr. Dubois,” he grumbled then abruptly turned around and entered the elevator we just exited leaving me to fend for myself.