Page 124 of Dear Future Husband

Groaning, he set his homework to the side. “Stop it, Maybelle.”

“Stop what?” I demanded.

He sighed deeply, shoving his hands through his hair and gripping at the roots.

I waited a second, then two before adding, “I’m not leaving until we talk.”

Turning from me, he slumped back into the pillows of his bed. “I’m not sure there’s much left for either of us to say.”

My heart sank. “What do you mean? I thought—"

I didn’t get to explain, as he cut me off. “I know—I know I said a lot at the banquet. I just—I get it. You chose Sam, and I thought I could keep being your friend despite it, but damn it, May.” He swallowed hard, his eyes darting from me as he stood. “I told you everything. I opened myself up to you and you—left. You ran away. Youkeeprunning away. You did it to me then and you’redoing it to me now. I could handle it then, but now, with everything I know and everything between us... I want to wait for you. Hell, Iwill wait, but I can’t be as close to you as I do.

“Date Sam. See where that goes. When you’re done running, I’ll be here. But if I’m going to survive until then, I can’t handle just having pretend with you. I can’t talk—or sacrifice more of myself until I have you.”

He stared at me pleadingly. A begging look in his eye that asked me to stop the torture. To put him out of his misery.

I let the journal fall close on my lap, the wind in my determined sails sucked away.

What was I thinking? I couldn’t bear my soul to this boy. All I was doing was hurting him. I needed to stop. I needed to get out, leave him be.

Packing up my few belongings, I kept the journal tied up in my hands as I stood from the bed. I avoided Trey’s eyes as I strode to the bedroom door on wobbly knees. My fingers circled the brass knob. Just before I turned it to let myself out, I gathered my courage and looked back at him.

He was watching me. Pain in his eyes as he let me leave.

I was doing it again. Running away before giving him the full truth.

“I’m not dating Sam,” I forced out. “I never was—I-I didn’t choose him.”

Trey’s expression didn’t change. He kept his jaw set, his body rigid, but his eyes tightened curiously. When he didn’t speak, I reached back for the door. I was content, knowing I told him the truth.

That was enough for now.

But as the cold metal knob turned against my palm, I was torn off it, spun and pinned against the door. Trey’s hands were twisting into the hem of my shirt, gripping me to him. My breathing was deep, quick. Each breath,each second and each pull closer had me pressing into his chest.

He seemed to notice too, as his green eyes fixated on how my body heaved with each inhale and exhale.

“Promise?” he asked, his grasp on my shirt going taut against my back, leaving absolutely no room between us. “It’s over between you two?”

I gaped up at him, trying and failing to recover a semblance of coolness. “Trey—Sam and I never started. It was a misunderstanding, but I wasnever his.”

With one hand, I latched onto the waistband of his sweats to stabilize myself. Feeling somewhat off-kilter, I inhaled and absorbed his spicy, cinnamon-sweet aroma. Unfortunately, my other hand still held my bag and journal.

The smile that spread across Trey’s face was infatuating. One of his hands slid up my torso, brushing past my chest, to cup my cheek. “What does that mean, May? For me... For us?”

Caution coated his words, his movements. Almost like he wasn’t sure what I was saying was real or pretend.

“It means I’m done running.”

Eyes and smile going soft, he used his free hand to pull my things from my grasp, setting them on his dresser.

“Is this the point the couple finally gets together in those romance books of yours?” he asked, with both hands holding to me. Before I could respond, he nestled his nose into the exposed area of my throat.

My head fell back against the door as I sighed. “What would you know about the books I read?”

He pulled away, only far enough for me to make out the dark patches of forest green against the viridescent lighting of his eyes. “I know because any book I see you reading, I buy, and I read it too.”

I eyed him, my fingers tangled with the material of his soft shirt. “Whatever. I snooped all over this room. Ididn’t see a single book.”