Page 39 of Dear Future Husband

“Sorry, is your nose alright?” she asked, her questionsandwiched between soft chuckles she was obviously trying and failing to hide.

I couldn’t help but smile. “What’s so funny?”

She shrugged, her full lips disappearing as she pinched them together. I dropped my inflamed nose, sat up from the floor and blinked away my watery vision.

“Oh, Mayhem,” I hummed.

Her giggles stopped. An eyebrow quirked in query. “Mayhem?”

I shook my head, more laughter spilling from me in remembrance of one of my favourite moments. My mirth died off abruptly as I realized, only I could remember that moment.

That week no longer existed for her.

“Déjà vu,” was my blunt response.

I stood from the floor and headed to the kitchen, ignoring her questioning looks. I woke her only to make sure she was okay, but now that she was awake, I didn’t want her to fall back asleep just yet.

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

“Starving.”

I opened the fridge door and called back to her, “There’s cold pizza.”

“Pepperoni?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Perfect.”

17 I Am Not Obsessed with You

Maybelle

Trey plated us both cold, pepperoni pizza slices, then joined me on the couch. I accepted my plate from him, graciously, and stuffed the first bite into my mouth.

I side-glanced the boy who sat with me on the couch, taking his own bite of pizza.

I had met him only just this morning. Yeah, sure, he supposedly knew me and my family—but as far as memory served, he was a complete stranger.

“You know what’s weird?” I asked as I chewed.

“Hm?” he grunted with his mouth full, being a little more courteous than me by keeping his mouth closed.

I stared after him for a moment. As if sensing my scrutiny, he swallowed and paused before taking his next bite. His vibrant green eyes homed in on me. I nearly choked on my pizza and the awe coiling up in the back of my throat.

“I technically met you this morning. Now I’m eating your cold pizza and sleeping on your couch,” I got out, holding his gaze.

Trey finally took another bite and gave me a closed-lip grin. “I know. It’s pretty great.”

With one last shared smile, we continued to eat ourdelicious pizza in silence. I expected the quiet to make me want to run, but it wasn’t stained with awkwardness.

We were just two acquaintances, one super kind and extremely pretty, while the other barely knew anything about anything and could only pray she didn’t agree to stay with a serial killing mom and son duo.

It’s fine, I’m fine. Anyway, where else could I go?

I apparently had no home, no immediate family. My best option was the nice people who claimed to know me. And if the gorgeous boy that is Trey Turner was a killer, so what, I could learn to see past his flaws.

I’m obviously joking, but in all transparency—he really is that hot.