Page 50 of Dear Future Husband

He dropped his head back against the wall, slanting me a look. “Yeah? Why do you say that?”

“You both find too much enjoyment in torturing me.”

“Hmm, yeah, you should definitely introduce us.”

This—this was the Trey I’d been looking forward to talking to and hanging out with. The friend who ate pizza with me and knew how to joke. I heaved a deep, content sigh.

“So, how was your week?” I asked, hoping to keephim here with me longer, keep him talking—keep myself awake.

His hands kneaded into my knees, relieving the achy tension in my joints. “It was good, busy. We’re getting ready for classes and the season to start in the next few weeks.” He straightened as he put more pressure into his massaging.

I couldn’t help it; I groaned. “That feels so good.”

Letting my eyes fall close, I rested back on my pillows. He continued on, making the aches in my taut limbs mold to his magic hands.

“I should go. Let you get some sleep.”

My eyes shot open, and I latched onto his arm before he could stand from the bed. “I’m not sleeping, please, don’t leave yet.”

Stupid, I felt so stupid for my begging, but I was too scared to care about how pathetic I might’ve looked. His brows furrowed as he held the hand, I grabbed him with.

“What’s wrong?”

I couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m just—I don’t want to sleep yet,” I said, as my eyes grew heavier. He didn’t reply right away, studying me as I kept my attention on the floor.

“May, it’s okay to sleep. We all need it. And from what you said at dinner, it sounds like you’ve been up for almost forty hours straight. You really need to sleep.”

His thumb brushed back and forth across my knuckles as he spoke. I couldn’t argue with him. I knew he was right by the way I struggled to hold my eyes open and yawned every two seconds.

“If you want,” Trey continued. “I could stay with you, sleep on the floor, and make sure you’re okay.”

I peered up at him, meeting his gaze.

I nodded. “I would like that, and could you wake me up when you wake up? No matter how early—please.” I refused to sleep away any more of my days, especially the few days I got with him.

He squeezed my hand. “Of course, I promise.”

So, we set him up with a blanket and a few of the extra pillows from my bed on the plush, periwinkle rug next to me.

Just before sleep finally took me, I twisted in the dark, making eye contact with eyes of green that were lit up by the soft light of the moon pooling in through my bedroom window.

They darted across my face, like he was sketching my features with his gaze. Then his hand lifted, reaching up so his fingers could brush along my jaw as he pulled a few curls off my cheek.

“Good night, May.”

As my heavy eyes finally slid shut, the last thing in my sight was the boy asleep on my bedroom floor. Just like how we spent the last year, with Trey by my side, making sure I didn’t feel alone even as I slept.

Having him there, knowing I wasn’t by myself and the assurance that I would wake up with the start of the day like everyone else, I swiftly drifted away receiving a full night’s rest—well earned.

Dear best friend,

Something you should know about me is I love books.

No, I don’t just love books. I need books. If I am being totally and completely honest with myself, books are my gateway drug.

Do I know what a gateway drug is? No, not really.

Books are the gateway to different worlds and stories that I am thoroughly addicted escaping to every spare chance I get. That sounds like a gateway drug to me.