Page 24 of Dear Future Husband (The Dearly Written #1)
Maybelle
That cold pizza my first night might’ve been delicious, but this lasagna was a whole other level of exquisite goodness.
I sat on my bed, devouring my dinner, wishing I could go outside my room to thank Chelsea for the best meal I could remember having. Except my pride would not allow it, which was childish, but I didn’t care.
I was just so angry… But more than anything, I was frustrated at myself for looking forward to seeing Trey. I was excited to show him how well I was walking, to talking with him, to hearing how his week had been.
And, ugh, I hated to admit it, but I was exhausted.
I rose off my bed and placed my finished plate on the desk against the other wall. My legs still shook under my weight, but I didn’t need to hold on to anything to cover the short length of my room now, which was progress.
At this rate, I bet I could walk the length of the house with no help by next week. My pride at the thought dwindled as I scrutinized the fallen bookcase, felt the soreness in my bruised hip and remembered Trey’s concern, his fear—his lack of faith in me.
Forget him , I thought.
I was doing great, and that’s all that mattered. There were bound to be a few bumps and scrapes here and there along the way. But what I couldn’t get out of my head was the feel of his hand caressing my hip and him pressing me into the wall.
Trying to distract myself from the thought, I knelt before the case and scattered books. I lifted the empty shelving and began filling it with the novels. A few of the books were beautiful, decorated with sparkling details and leather-bound.
One book was open on the floor. Plucking it up, I skimmed the first pages.
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.
What felt like minutes soon turned into hours.
I had plopped myself on the floor, with my back against the wall, and was about halfway through the beautiful, infuriating, confusing story of Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet when a loud knock on my bedroom door made me jump.
“Come in,” I called, my voice shaking with surprise.
My door opened to reveal Trey, still as handsome as ever, which made me fume. He couldn’t act the way he had and be that pretty—it wasn’t fair.
“Hey, sorry to bother you. I saw your light was still on and wanted to check in. Make sure you’re alright.”
I looked at the digital alarm clock on my desk. It was already past midnight. “I didn’t realize how late it was.” I looked back at Trey, who studied me in the doorway. “What’re you still doing up?”
When he first got back from school, he’d been wearing a royal blue shirt with his school’s name painted across the back. He wore jeans and sneakers, but now he was in black shorts and a gray t-shirt that clung to his built upper body in all the right ways.
I was shamelessly—murderously—gawking at him as he stepped further into my room.
“I couldn’t sleep after how dinner went,” he admitted, his head bowing as he looked at me through lowered lashes.
Nodding, I used the wall to get to my feet, my joints stiff from sitting on the floor for so long.
Trey met me at the bed and offered his hand to help lower me to the mattress. I accepted his help but paused before settling onto the pink quilted spread. I looked up at him, still astonished by his height compared to mine, as I stood level to his broad chest.
“How about you sit with me, and we catch up?” I offered as a truce and gestured to the bed.
He accepted with a smile, and we both fell into the pillows. The two of us sat shoulder to shoulder. I grabbed a pillow from my side and hugged it on my lap while Trey folded his arms over his front.
“May, I owe you an apology,” he started.
I scooted sideways so I could better face him as he spoke because, yes, he did owe me an apology.
“I let my fear overwhelm me today. I’m happy to see you walking and doing well—you have no idea. But I let my fear of you getting hurt cloud that, and I’m sorry.”
I placed a forgiving hand on his knee, giving him a gentle grin. “Damn right you should be sorry. Do you know how excited I was to show you how far I’ve come?” I playfully swatted at his muscled shoulder, feigning anger as I folded my arms and turned away from him.
He snickered behind me, and I felt the mattress move as he adjusted. “What do I have to do to make it up to you, May?” He was much closer now; his breathing tickled the back of my neck.
My breath hitched as I forced myself to keep my chin high and give a half shrug. “I don’t know, handsome. I fear this might be the end of our friendship.”
I felt his fingers at my sides, his mouth pressed up close to my ear. “I’m afraid that just won’t work for me.”
Before I could respond, Trey had me hauled up in his lap, attacking the sensitive areas of my sides, making me squeal. I writhed and squirmed in his hold, screeching and laughing uncontrollably.
He pinned my arms down with one of his hands, then slapped the other hand over my mouth as he hushed me through his own laughter. “Hush, May. Mom’s asleep and has work tomorrow. You’ll wake her if you keep squawking like that.”
I slipped one of my hands out of his grasp and pulled my mouth free of the muzzle. “Stop the torture and I’ll stop my screaming,” I whisper-shouted up at him.
His deep laugh reverberated through me. “I’ll stop as soon as you say you forgive me and that we’re still friends.” He leaned into me, still holding me up on his lap.
“Hmm I don’t know…” I hummed but his evil fingers dug into me again, sending me wriggling. “Okay, okay, okay, I forgive you!”
Trey didn’t fully press back into me, but his fingertips teasingly danced at my hips.
“And?” he drawled.
I shook my head. “And we’re best friends. Now get your hands off me, you sadist.” Sitting up, I rolled back onto the bed, leaving my legs draped across his lap. Trey vibrated with amusement as he rested his hands on my knees.
“You know,” I started, catching my breath. “You and my physical therapist would get along well.”
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 keep him 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.