Dear Smiley,
Just a little note to tell you I'm thinking about you and
love you.
***************************************************************************************************************
It was a simple note, surprising Miley. She hadn't been
expecting anything. And she defiantly wasn't expecting anything from an
anonymous sender.
She set the card down on her desk as she brought the pink
tipped white roses with her to the kitchen. She had to find a vase for them
before they died.
"I take it you liked them?" She heard his voice ask. She knew
that voice...she loved that voice.
"I do." She said. "She felt his arms wrap around her, and she
let out a small yelp. She pulled away from him a little. "You're all sweaty."
She replied, turning to face him.
His blue eyes sparkled at her as he laughed. "Hard work tends
to do that to people." He replied, his Tennessee drawl popping out a little bit
more.
"And you're huggin' on me and it's in turn making me all
sweaty." Miley replied.
"So?" He asked. "I could be doing other things and making you
all sweaty."
"Down there, horndog." She replied.
"I'm gonna go take a shower. Any chance you might join me?"
He asked, as she smiled.
"Trying to save water?" She asked.
"Something like that." He replied, as he walked towards the
stairs to head up to the master bathroom.
***************************************************************************************************************
Miley cursed loudly as she set the plain gold band on her
nightstand. She stared out it, letting a 'fuck' slip out. She couldn't quite
remember when she had lost it. It had to have been within the last year. That
had been the last time she had worn it, right?
Well, not within the first month. That very first month, she
hadn't wanted to take it off. Her friends said it was very distracting to see
that ring every single time they went out clubbing. They always laughed that her
heart was more into her writing than hooking up with some good looking guy.
And that night, it had been a typical night. The gang had
gone out for the night, and Miley had spent more time writing things down on a
napkin than flirting. When they finally left- or more accurate, when Miley said
she was leaving and realized she hadn't driven- Ryan took her home. He followed
her up to her apartment door, swearing it was just to make sure that she made it
home alive. He watched her act frazzled, unsure of him being that close. He had
been drinking, and she knew where that usually led. She had seen Tara do that
too many nights.
Ryan's final sentence of the night echoed in her head, even
after she had closed the door. "What does a guy have to do to get past this
door, Mindy?" He had asked, so simply. As if there was something in the world
that was allow her to let some guy into her apartment. She knew there wasn't,
she told them there wasn't, but yet Ryan was still asking.
He had been leaning against the door, watching her mess with
her keys and trying to open her door. He kept trying to stop it, knowing that
the very second the apartment door was open, the night was over. She would slip
into the apartment, take a deep breath and allow a few curses to slip out.
But, with one simple question, she was cleaning. She honestly
hated cleaning, and this one simple question had thrown her into cleaning. And
that had been when she found that damn ring in a desk drawer.
She pulled her home phone out of its holster by her couch and
dialed a number. "This is Mindy Hart. Mr. Stewart is my lawyer. I was just
wondering if he had received some paperwork in. Oh he's in? Thank you." Miley
waited as she was connected to the man. "Hey, Mr. Stewart, did you get that
paperwork back? You did! Did Mr. Timbe...He didn't? Thank you very much. I'll be
by tomorrow to pick it up." Miley hung up, another 'fuck' escaping her lips.
She had really wanted to avoid this part...