Page 13 of Dear Future Husband

“Just going for a quick run.”

Trey’s face lifted with the rise of his brows, and his head slightly tilted.

“Impressive. I hate cardio,” he deadpanned the last part, and I couldn’t stop the snort that escaped me. I was ready to follow through with my original plan of throwing myself through the window now.

My feet shifted away, ready to hightail it out the front door. But Trey looked at me in such a bold way that made me feel like I just gave him a challenge he was all too eager to accept. So, my feet slowly straightened back, remaining rooted in anticipation of what he might say next.

“What’s so funny?” he asked as he leaned farther forward; green eyes narrowed in amusement.

Currently feeling more self-conscious than I’d ever been in my entire life, I fidgeted, trying to find a more comfortable position. I rested against the kitchen sinkbehind me. “It’s funny that you hate cardio when you’re the best senior running back in the state. Cardio is literally in the name.”

He seemed to consider this and smirked. “Yes, well, I enjoy running after the ball, to open for a pass or to take it home for a touchdown, but to run for the sake of running. Not my idea of a good time.”

I nodded, then deciding that sitting on the counter behind me would be a lot classier, I lifted myself up and sat myself next to the sink. While I maneuvered onto the counter, (immediately regretting the move when the top cupboards forced me to slouch forward, making me look anything but classy) Trey rounded the corner of the tabletop that had been between us.

Now, his back was to the counter as he folded his arms across his bare chest. Giving me a full view of him in grey sweatpants… I didn’t know when I would wake up from this wet dream, but I prayed it wouldn’t be soon.

“I understand,” I choked out, trying to control my roaming gaze. “I used to play basketball. I hated running unless it was in a game, but after I quit, I realized I really liked the peace of mind that came with it.”

He shook his head, bewildered. “You played sports? Why’d you quit?”

“I wanted to focus on school after we moved here.” Another lie. I quit because at the time I could hardly find joy in waking each morning, let alone find joy in sports.

One of Trey’s large hands lifted, rubbing the back of his neck as he said, “Interesting. How did I not know this about you?”

Smiling, I gave a quick, jerky shrug. “I have very few musical talents, obviously, but my three-point shot isn’t bad, and I keep a level head in a tight game.”

Eyes bright, he stared up at me, like he might be seeing me for the first time. “Wow, May, I do not know a lot about you. Do I?”

His viridescent eyes remained glued on me while headjusted his position until he stood directly in front of me. All he would have to do was take one step forward and my legs could wrap around his hips. My hands could tangle with those caramel curls and those lips…

My head slowly bobbed as I tore my eyes from his lips. “I—I don’t make it very easy for people to get to know me.”

“I can’t argue with that.” His head turned to the floor, brown hair toppling into his eyes as he peered up at me through dark, lowered lashes. A look that brought heat to my cheeks and belly.

His gaze was so intense, stripping. If he kept looking at me like that, he might see everything. He might see every faulty, charred part of my broken character and it was a reality I suddenly couldn’t risk.

Trey Turner couldn’t be let in. He couldn’t see the very innate bits of my heart because if he did, he may never look at me like this again. He would never look at me like I was someone worth seeing.

I could feel my vulnerable, fragile self crawling back into its nervous shell of comfort as I kicked off the counter, away from him. “Well, I better get this run over with.”

I tried to sidestep him, but as I moved, he was already there, grasping my fingers. He gave my hand a slight tug that halted my retreat and lured my eyes back to his.

Trey Turner had participated in a full conversation with me and now was purposefully touching me. This was officially the best day of my young life. I couldn’t help but look back down at my short fingers entrapped in his large hands. I peered up at him, now having to tilt my head back to meet his gaze.

This moment, right here, was going to have at least three pages of my journal dedicated to explaining every minute detail.

He grinned down at me, dimples flashing.

“Thank you for the amazing concert this morning.”

I grimaced and made to pull away, but he moved closer and held a little tighter to my fingers.

“And thank you for talking with me. I realize I have a lot more to learn about you.”

He dropped my hand. But before I could try to take off again, he was grabbing for the zipper of my open sweater. He locked the zipper into the teeth and dragged it up to just over my chest.

His stare was heavy as he watched my body move with each breath. Flicking up, his green eyes locked with mine.