Page 105 of Dear Future Husband

When the shower curtains screeched across the bar holding them aloft, the temptation to glance up, just once, was too strong. I needed to walk away, let the poor boy dress without me peeping in on him like a perv.

I spun on my heels to find a half-naked Trey standing there in a towel, looking half dead.

The horny cloud in my brain cleared as I stepped up to him with his clothes.

“Put these on and we’ll get you in bed.”

He nodded, causing droplets of water to drip off the soaked curls of his hair. When I held the clothing out to him, his large hands enveloped mine.

My eyes shot to his.

“Thank you,” he let out on a sigh.

I gave him a lame smile. “Get dressed, Turner.”

When he later exited the bathroom in only the sweats, I shot an accusatory look at him.

Even ill, his smile was—invigorating.

“I’m overheating. I promise I’m not trying to seduce you… I mean, unless you want me to.”

I was impressed I had the willpower to roll my eyes and look elsewhere.

Gosh, what was wrong with me? Poor boy was sick as a dog, and I couldn’t help but want to get a quick peek of him naked in the shower or think of how he’d react if I just casually jumped his bones.

Ever since our stupid conversation outside that stupid party about our stupid kiss, I’d been a pathetic mess of want. Unable to get the images of our kiss and Trey’s hands on my body out of my mind.

I faced his bed, doing my best to ignore the chaos in my head and heart as I turned down the covers for him. “Lay down. I’ll get you some water.”

As Trey stepped toward the bed and I to the door, he stopped me with a hand on my arm.

“Mayhem,” he whispered.

I faced him with a step closer. “Trey?”

He swallowed hard. “I appreciate your help, but please, I’ll be okay. You should go. I don’t want to get you sick.”

I took another step toward him, and he stepped back.

“Trey.”

That smile.

“Maybelle?”

“Please stop trying to take this away from me.”

That smile fell, and confusion replaced it. “Taking what from you?”

This time, he didn’t back away when I neared him. “My chance to take care of you. You’ve done so much for me. More than I deserve. Please, for once, allow me to be there for you. It can’t be compared to the kindness you’ve shown me, but at least it’s something.”

His eyes softened; his lips pinched tight as his head bobbed. He got into the bed, and I retrieved a water for him.

His skin no longer looked sickly, but it was flushed and on fire. I retreated to the bathroom, soaking a small washcloth in cool water and ringing out the excess. I placed the chilled cloth on his forehead and his eyes blinked open at me.

Those eyes.

They studied me, like he was memorizing me.