More Than This (More Than, #1)(78)

Nothing like a f*cked up girl to bring peace between to enemies.


So for three days I cried, I sulked and I went through all the stages of grief all over again, like I was reliving their deaths.

Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and today, I woke up, and reached the final stage, Acceptance.

I was not going to let this * ruin me, not again.

I will not let bad people dictate what should be a good life.


Jake walks into the bedroom and pauses slightly when he sees me up and dressed.

He's been super wary of me, not wanting to push me too far, or suffocate me, or be too far away.

He has been perfect.

My perfect boyfriend.

He eyes me sideways, a little confused.

I would be too.

I'm wearing yoga pants, one of his baseball jerseys and holding his bat.

"Hey, baby." I saunter over to him and kiss him. Really kiss him. He kisses me back and cups my ass lightly.

"Jesus, Kayla. I've missed you," he says, as he deepens the kiss and leads me toward the bed.

I laugh into his mouth. "Jake, its been three days, not three years"

"I know but it's hard… I was going to say it's hard keeping my hands of you but I think I'll leave it there… yep… it's just hard,” he says this with a smirk, as he thrusts into me and I laugh out loud.

"It's so good to hear you laughing again," he says, as he takes my face in his hands and looks into my eyes. "I so much more than a lot love you, you know that right?"

I nod. Because I do. I do know. And I so much more than a lot love him too.


"So what’s with the outfit?" he asks, slowly standing up from the bed, and pulling me up with him. "Not that I don't love it. It's hot as f*ck, you wearing my jersey, but why?"

"I want you to pitch to me.” I throw him a baseball.

"What?"

"You've never pitched to me, I want to see if I can hit one, please?"

"You want me to like, pitch to you like you're a child, or you want me to challenge you?"

"Challenge me."

"Okay then…"


We go to our little back yard and for an hour or so, we take my mind off Christopher f*cking Leon.


"Hey umm… Mikayla?" Jake says. Pitch, hit, chase, repeat.

Jake barely ever calls me Mikayla, so what ever it is he's about to say, I'm already paying attention.

“Yeah?” I answer, wariness in my voice.

"Umm, I know that uhh,” he clears his throat, takes his cap off, runs his hand through his hair, then replaces the cap, backwards. Nervous habit. Shit.

"I know that you wear your mom’s engagement ring, but umm… I mean, what happens if, I mean when, a guy, uh, hopefully me. I mean, what happens if… when… said guy, me, wants to propose?"

What. The. Fuck.

Where did this come from?

“What are you saying, Jake?"

His eyes go big.

“Oh shit, Kayla, no! I'm not asking you, shit. I was just um, I was just wondering.” His hands are in the air, waving frantically, he's animated trying to get his point across.

I laugh at him, because he's trying to backtrack, and it's funny as hell.


***


We order Chinese for dinner and eat on the sofa watching TV.

"I would want my own ring,” I say.

“Huh?"

"When said guy, hopefully you, proposes, I would want my own ring. Just so you know." I look down at my food for a second, then back up to him.

A blush is creeping to his cheeks.

I continue, "I love these rings, but it's like, it's theirs you know. Like, it represents them and their story. I think I would want my own, to represent my fairytale, my prince, my happily ever after."

He smiles. "Okay then."

Then goes back to his food.


***


We're lying in bed that night after making love. I've learned to tone down the noise level, which is hard, because in the months I've learned to tone it down, Jake's learnt my body inside out. He knows me. Like, really knows me.


"Do you want to go to the hearing, Kayla?"

"Do you think I should?"

"I mean, Dad says it's an open and shut case, I don't think you need to be there."

"Then I don't want to."

"Are you sure?”

"I think I'm done with the past, Jake. I think I just want my future.” I look at him, and he gets it. He knows what I mean. I just want him.


Chapter 51


Mikayla


It's been one year since my life changed. Since the people I thought I loved betrayed me, and the people I did love were taken from me.

And it’s been one year since I stood in front of my forever.


Jake and I stayed at his parent’s house over the weekend. Now we're here, at the cemetery. Red Tulips in hand for Mom’s birthday tomorrow. Jake got them. I don't know how he knew, or how he remembered it was Mom’s birthday, but he did, and it's one of the reasons I love him, so much more than a lot.


We walk hand in hand toward their headstones.

There's a lone figure standing by them, dressed in black, sunglasses on, looking down.