Page 80 of Dear Future Husband

The slight creak of hinges cut through my thoughts as the front door crept open and… Maybelle snuck in. She let the door click closed before she turned around to see she wasn’t alone.

She jumped when she at last saw me sitting up on the couch. “Geez, I really need to get better at that,” she huffed through a startled breath.

I couldn’t help the smile she always seemed to pull from me. Even if she did practically smother my heart with a pillow last night.

“What were you doing outside?” I asked as I stood to my full height.

She stared back at me, her lips pinching together as she folded her hands behind her back. “Uh, I was just on a walk.”

I quirked a curious look at her, and she avoided my gaze. I took a step forward and her round eyes met mine. My grin tipped at the sight of her still reacting to my every move.

“Mayhem, I’m your friend. You can tell me where youwere sneaking off to this morning.” I couldn’t help the twinge sarcasm in my tone.

She squirmed under my scrutiny. Her hand lifted to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, and that’s when I saw red.

I was upon her in one long stride.

Maybelle backed up flush against the door. “Trey—”

I pulled her hand out from behind her back and up for me to see. Small rocks and dirt poked from the crevices of her shredded palm.

I held tight to the hand I was already inspecting as I reached with my other hand around her back to pull free the other palm that was also torn.

“What happened?” My question came out as more of a command. Instead of shrinking from my tone, Maybelle scrunched her freckled nose up at me.

“Nothing, I tripped. That’s all,” she said and tried to pull her hands away, but my grip on her didn’t waver. I lifted her arms and her sleeve fell back, revealing a bandage on her elbow.

My focus darted to the wound, and she heaved an annoyed breath. I shifted my hold to her forearm, allowing me the mobility to turn her still pressed against the door.

Barely a day-old, nasty scrape was sitting under the bandage, tainting her perfect skin. I remembered then the sight of her scuffed-up knees from yesterday. I had meant to ask about them but seeing her in my jersey distracted me.

I pressed Maybelle’s back against the door again, barring her in with my hands planted to the wood surface. “May, sweetheart, I need you to start explaining and no lying, please.”

She remained bold as she licked her lips, gaze locked with mine. “I was practicing,” she said plainly, but her brows rose in challenge. And just like that, I was back in that first week, terrified of my fragile Maybelle, breaking,or falling asleep. Seeing the tumbled bookcase and that angry, purple bruise on her skin.

I dropped my head against the door, my forehead just above her shoulder. This girl was going to be the death of me. I sucked in a few deep breaths before I pulled back enough to look her in the eyes.

“So, you were out there on the streets, alone, practicing walking by yourself, before the sun was up? Correct?”

She nodded coolly.

“Have you been doing this back at the house or just here?” I asked, my hackles rising with each breath.

“I go out every night to walk after Chelsea goes to work or bed. I’ve been fine though,” she puffed through her rapid breathing.

I chuckled harshly as I grabbed her hand and showed it to her, palm up. “Maybelle, this is not fine.”

She tore her hand away and pushed from the door, bringing us almost nose to nose. “I’m not made of glass, Trey. I want to walk. I want to run. I want to do things on my own. A few scrapes and bruises are inevitable. Get used to it.”

For a long moment, we stared one another down. The space between us was mere centimeters. Our breathing was quick and short, and our heart rates thrummed between us.

As pissed as I was with the infuriating, reckless woman in front of me, I wanted to kill the remaining distance between us. I wanted to press myself into her, lace my fingers in her hair and hold her against the door as I kissed her.

But I wouldn’t.

I wouldn’t push past this; I would respect the boundaries she set.

I could win her back in other ways. Show her that there was no way for her to ruin or lose anything with me, that she was stuck with me whether she liked it ornot because we belonged together—Hold that thought.