Page 110 of Dear Future Husband

Daniel and Penny had left during halftime, leaving Chelsea and me alone to scream and cheer at the nail-biting last quarter. Our boys had pulled through with a last second touchdown.

“They killed it,” I agreed.

We both walked down to the field, entering with the other few permitted family members of the players.

Almost instantly, my eyes met with Trey’s smiling green ones as he approached. I was so busy staring I missed the incoming football player until I was tackled from the side.

Noah Williams lifted me into the air.

“Did you see that game, little Mason?! We wrecked them!” he howled, spinning with me slung over his padded shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

I was tempted to tease him. Point out that if not for that last-minute touchdown, scored by Trey, they would’ve been the wrecked ones. I thought better of it.

Let him boast, they won, they deserved it.

“Yes, very good. Now put me down before I throw up.” He ignored me, swinging me around with a gripping arm around the backs of my legs.

“Bring it in, my guy!” he shouted.

Confused, I thought Williams was talking to me. I realized, as I was slung forward and sandwiched between two sweaty men, that he actually addressed Trey. Now they both smothered me between them in a group hug. With Williams at my back, I looked up to face Trey, who pushed himself against me.

He was smirking, and I was blushing.

Pretend. Pretend. Pretend.

“Oh, my gosh! You three stay right there. This deserves a picture!” Chelsea exclaimed, fumbling with her purse.

Trey pressed against me even tighter, and I glared up at him in response.

His chuckle vibrated through my chest as he leaned in, breathing a whisper into my ear, “Don’t act like you don’t like it, May. Me pressed against you. Just like that night.”

I tried for only a moment to gather myself, but I didn’t have the wherewithal to reply. We hadn’t talked about that night once in the last week. I thought we were going to do exactly as Trey offered—pretend.

That we would put on the false front that those long hours alone in his bed hadn’t been the best, most beautiful moments that had occurred between us. That the one fake night of being together hadn’t completely toppled my defenses.

Nothing truly physical happened between us. Nothing past the soft exploration of his fingertips up my arms. His face nuzzled into my neck as I held him, or his gentle breathing dancing through my hair as he slept.

No, nothing physical past the desperate need to hold to one another and never let go. Now… I couldn’t say the same thing for us emotionally. I may not have touched Trey’s skin past the waistband of his pants, and he may not have explored my body past the neckline of my shirt, but our hearts...

They were a tangle of feelings. A writhing jumble of emotions. Stroking, taking, giving, exploding, and creating in the most obscene and sentimental way two souls could intertwine.

I thought I got away unscathed and my defiance to remain anything but his was still intact.

Spoiler: It wasn’t.

Truth was… My heart was still hauled up in that bed, that night, twisted in the sheets and in his arms.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to reply because Williams’s arm, that was wrapped around my middle, released to jab Trey in the stomach.

“That’s enough. You can’t whisper cringey shit in her ear like that while we’re all pressed together like this,” he chided.

“Noah, smile, hun! And Maybelle, wrap your arms around Trey,” Chelsea directed, bringing each of our attentions back to her and the camera. Williams and I reluctantly obeyed, while Trey smiled proudly for the picture.

Chelsea and I walked with the boys back toward the locker rooms to shower and dress. Trey and Chelsea planned to go out for their mother, son date as soon as he was ready. So, I was looking for my roommate, Madelyn, who said she’d give me a ride home after the game.

Trey and Williams left us girls for the showers while I glanced at the edge of the stands. I scanned the faces for Madelyn, missing the man in front of me until I was stumbling into his awaiting arms.

Frazzled, I glimpsed up to see Sam smiling down at me. Fortunately for me, he wasn’t sweaty like the other guys, because he sat sidelines the entire game, but I wasn’t complaining.