Page 3 of Dear Future Husband

Liam, the sweet boy, seemed to be using a lot of brain power before he finally responded, “Oh, yeah, Olivia. Why don’t you hit her up? Bet you’d be making all her high school fantasies come true.”

Trey scoffed, while I swallowed down the bile burning the back of my throat.

“Hey, May, are you alright back there?” Liam called back to me. My head was mushed into the back of Trey’s seat as I wondered just how fatal it would be to throw myself out of a moving vehicle. Not at all doubting whether it would be worth it or not, though.

“Oh, hey, Maybelle. I didn’t see you get in the car,” Trey cheerfully greeted.

I responded to both boys by keeping my face pancaked against the back of the seat. Refusing to allow them to witness just how red my skin burned from the mere mention of my name on Trey Turner’s tongue, Ilifted one hand with a meager thumbs up. I considered if it would be more effective to casually open the back door and roll myself out or to leap out the open car roof.

Both options sounded worthy of the moment.

The boys accepted this response, and Liam led a discussion of how he “scored” the best this year with the girls. Then how much better college women would be. Plus a lot of other stuff I dissociated from to preserve the dwindling respect I had left for my twin brother.

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before we pulled into the student parking lot. The band was outside, blasting the school anthem. An archway of balloons crowned the gymnasium double doors, and all the seniors filtered through.

Trey blasted his radio speakers as he sped into his assigned parking spot, a signal to all the students loitering in the lot that The Kings had arrived.

I wanted nothing to do with the approaching crowd of teens. So, in an effort to escape the car and the general area before we could be surrounded, I moved to grab my bag. Then I launched myself at the door handle.

Except, as I leapt for the door, it simultaneously flung open. Before I knew it or could save myself from the catastrophe, I went barrelling out of the lifted Jeep, free-falling to the asphalt. But instead of breaking my face on the street—I was caught in a couple of big, brawny arms.

“Christ, May, are you alright?” Trey asked, as his solid arms cinched in around my waist.

The raging curse storm of horrid language that threatened to spew from my mouth was just ridiculous. I worked to recover my balance, but the face-full of TreyfreakingTurner’s massive chest had me bumbling over myself.

I shifted a look back to the Jeep. My balance was offset by my stupid left foot that somehow trapped itself between the bottom sill and chair. I slowly twisted back to face him, thinking about how I often forgot how tallTrey was until I randomly found myself in his arms.

Which…this would be a first.

I held two handfuls of his jersey on either side of his lower back. My skin was on fire. I knew every bit of my face scorched a deep red as I stared up at him through my lashes.

“My—my foot… It’s stuck,” I murmured. My biceps flexed under Trey’s grip as he steadied me and peered over my shoulder to see that my foot was, indeed, stuck.

How? Why? What all-powerful being had it out for me today to put me in such a humiliating predicament?

Trey looked back at me, seeming a little surprised. But he quickly replaced the fleeting look with an easy smile and two irresistible dimples.

“I’m sorry. That was my fault. I wanted to be nice and grab your door, but I probably should’ve given you a heads up. Here, hold my hand. I’ll get your foot.”

I obeyed, holding to Trey’s calloused hand while he smoothly slipped my foot out from the crevice between the back door sill and chair.

“There you go, Mayhem.”

I reclaimed my balance and picked up my over-the-shoulder bag that had fallen to the road. Before my “fight or flight” could kick in and send me running, I paused, just for a moment. I quirked a curious brow at my handsome knight in shining football jersey.

“Mayhem?”

I witnessed a new side of Trey that morning, one I didn’t know existed. One that blushed, one that looked a little unsure of himself.

He chuckled, recovering from the moment with a flawless, teasing smile pulling at his lips. It had my knees going weak.

Ignoring my previous doubts, I realised the universe was actually smiling on me today. Because Trey Turner leaned in close and spoke so low, it made my skin pebble with goosebumps.

“Mayhem, because you’re kind of a mess, but a really cute mess.” And then, as if he hadn’t just all but destroyed me with that comment alone, he had the audacity to top it all off with a wink.

I was Jello. Melting Jello. Actually—more like juice. Seeping, dripping, sticky juice that was puddling and evaporating in the now bright California sun.

Say something witty, flirty. Be hot. Think sexy. Say thank you. For the love of God, at least smile… Nope.I spun on my heels and raced away; stone-faced.