Page 27 of Dear Future Husband (The Dearly Written #1)

Maybelle

The drive back from the Mason home was quiet.

The setting sun was now only a soft orange glow in the West, making way for the stars and moon to be seen over the city lights. I held tightly with one arm to a small backpack Trey had found in that house and stuffed full of random items I hadn’t yet seen.

While he went into the small home, down a hallway where I lost sight of him, I remained in the front room where a couch and an armchair near a window stood. Atop the cushion of the armchair was a dust-ridden, self-help book. The same copy I remembered seeing Chelsea read before dinner some nights.

Inside, the home was dark. It had a lovely citrus and cinnamon aroma about it, like someone recently burned a candle or doused the walls and cushions in perfume.

The home wasn’t messy, just from the looks of the first room I stayed in, but it was mucky. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling. Tables and chairs were coated in a thin layer of dust. Despite the lack of cleaning, the house was definitely, at some point, a home, a safe place for a family of three.

I thought I would be overwhelmed with emotion upon entering the house, but I was indifferent, unfamiliar to my surroundings. I didn’t care for it—which was a relief.

I held to my conversation with Chelsea from the other day. It helped me enter the home without panic. The knowledge that even if this place could never feel like home for me, I did, in fact, belong somewhere.

I had a home. I had my people.

So, I wasn’t racked with guilt or burdened by curiosity to investigate the bones of my forgotten past. I only waited patiently for Trey to gather the things he wanted.

The ride back home, Trey held my other hand, his thumb swiping back and forth across my knuckles. We didn’t talk, only sat in tranquil silence until we were home, standing in front of my bedroom door.

I handed the backpack to him, but he gently pushed it back toward me. “I got that for you. You don’t have to go through it yet, but I think you’ll appreciate the items inside.”

I pulled the pack against my chest. “Thank you for tonight, Trey.”

We were in the hallway, but my bedroom door was open to the window on the far wall that allowed the pale glow of the moon to paint across Trey’s face.

He revealed a slanted grin before his hand was up, his fingers brushing a couple of curls out of my face. I ducked my head to hide my giddy smile and the obvious butterflies fluttering in my gut.

His hand moved from my hair to cup my cheek. I watched him patiently, my stomach aching with anticipation as I studied his every move. His focus was on my lips.

“I guess we should tell Chelsea we’re home. I bet she’s wondering where we are.” The statement had leapt from my mouth, unbidden. My nerves were exploding with the need to ramble—to distract.

Trey’s soft, crooked grin turned wide and smug as he inched closer to me. “Mom is at work. I texted her we made it home.”

“Oh, so, she’s not here?” I asked, voice cracking.

He shook his head, his other hand now curving over my hip. “Nope, it’s just you and me here, May.”

Gulp . Yes, I gulped.

“Are you headed back to school tomorrow?” I really could not control myself, but Trey didn’t seem fazed as his face neared mine.

“Yes, around noon.”

He was whispering now, and his breath was warm on my skin. His hand on my cheek now tangled up in my hair at the nape of my neck, keeping me close.

An inch. That was the only space between our open mouths now. I wanted to kiss him, to tangle up against him. To feel him feeling me and we were so, so close. I closed my eyes, clung to the bag in my arms, and tilted my mouth ever so slightly up to him.

The inch of space disappeared as skin met skin… Only, it wasn’t lips on lips. He kissed the corner of my mouth—mostly my cheek.

I opened my eyes, and he was staring at me with the biggest, maliciously teasing smirk on his face.

“Mayhem… I think you might be obsessed with me.”

My mouth gaped as he laughed. I scoffed, trying to take a step back, but his hold on me didn’t falter.

“Well—It’s not like it’s a secret,” I barked out, through my now rapid breaths. “I’ve been very vocal about how attractive I find you.”

Staring up at him, I halfheartedly pulled against his grasp. Trey brought me back against him and buried his face into my neck as amusement shook him. His upturned lips pressed into the bare skin beneath my ear as he said, “God, you’re addicting.”

His lips trailed up my neck, lighting my senses on fire. I was melting, losing my hold on the bag in my hands and my grasp on reality.

“For the record,” he whispered as he nipped at my ear. “You are the only thing that occupies my thoughts.” His feather light kisses trailed from my ear, across my jaw and up my chin, making my head roll back.

“You were right that first night,” he spoke so sensually low, his voice hummed against my skin. “I was obsessed with you then, but I am entirely consumed by you now.”

His mouth collapsed against mine, and this time he did not miss. No, Trey knew exactly where to go as his kiss overtook me. The hand in my hair gripped and begged for more while his other hand left my hip, plucked the backpack from my arms, and tossed it around me, into my open bedroom.

The spike of feeling and emotions that flooded my system with each new touch and sweep of his tongue against my lips made me quake.

I thought I was awake before, finally started real life when I made the choice to walk on my own, but that was nothing compared to the fiery warmth coursing through my veins.

Trey’s heart raced against my chest as both his considerable hands cupped my face. His thumbs stroked my cheeks as he broke the kiss. I didn’t open my eyes, hoping to remain in the blissful moment with only the sound of our heavy breathing filling the space between us.

“May,” he prayed into the air. I opened my eyes and met Trey’s smiling forest green gaze. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a really long time.” He pressed himself against me for one last chaste kiss on my lips before pulling away to place a peck on my brow.

“Goodnight, May.”

Then he was gone, his body heat and presence stolen from me as he strolled down the hall to his bedroom. But before leaving the hall into his room, he slid me one last look.

I was still standing in the same spot, like an idiot. I gawked after him, lacking the brainpower to function after such a magical moment. I stabilized myself against my door frame, straightening my posture.

His smile grew.

Still unable to use my words, I hit him with a mock salute, followed by a quick wave as I nearly stumbled into my bedroom. Once I shut my door and leaned up against the other side. I inhaled, filling my lungs with a full needed breath.

I fell asleep that night with a smile on my lips as I replayed those words Trey said to me and the patterns he kissed up my neck.

He left the next morning just before noon, but not before grabbing my phone and putting his number in my contacts. He told me he would text me every day and that he planned to be back home by Saturday morning.

The rest of Sunday passed. Chelsea and I ended the day by eating dinner and watching a romcom together. I didn’t hear from Trey that night, but Chelsea got a text from him saying he made it back to school safely.

Monday came with another torturous session of physical therapy with Annalise. I couldn’t deny the pride that swelled in my chest when Annalise was absolutely dumbfounded by the progress I made in the little time we had apart.

That pride was quickly crushed by the end of our session, though.

I was sore and utterly weak at the conclusion of it, sending me off to bed for the night pretty early.

Still no word from Trey. But Tuesday morning I woke to see one missed call and three unread messages from a contact under the name, Boyfriend .

Two of the messages sent the night prior read:

The last unread message was sent that morning only minutes before I woke up.

Thankfully, I was alone in the privacy of my room because I smiled like an idiot while typing out my reply.

I snorted as I typed.

Wow, this boy…swoon.

I needed a minute to catch my breath and figure out a decent reply, so I rolled out of my bed, limbs a little flimsy, to dress myself in some jean shorts and a cornflower blue tank before I flopped back onto the bed.

I laid on my stomach, legs kicking up behind me as I opened my phone back up to a new message.

I paused, lost for words because, yes, while I loved the last couple of movie nights with Chelsea—I was, I hated to admit it, jealous.

I wanted friends to eat pizza and hangout with, but I only had two friends in the world and one of them was rarely around. That was my next thing I needed to conquer once I could walk without stumbling. Get outside and expand my circle.

Maybe I’d even get a job, go to school, join a club. The options were endless. I’d find something. I just needed to walk, to become more independent.

I would, I had to.

My time with Annalise came and went, leaving me feeling brutally abused. I showered off the pained sweat and dressed in PJs, a teal tank top, and black shorts.

Before leaving my room, I glimpsed the backpack Trey had packed from the Mason home—my old home—still lying on the floor from where he tossed it in the middle of our kiss.

Later . I would deal with the bag full of mystery items later.

Chelsea and I only got through one movie later that night before she was dead asleep on the couch. I draped a blanket over her, turned the TV off, then retreated to my room to find one missed call from Trey.

I smiled as my phone pinged with a message.

I dialed up his number. The phone only rang twice before he answered.

“May! How are you, gorgeous?”

I giggled. “Doing alright, handsome. How are you?”

“Better now,” he said with a sudden ruckus of voices blustering out in the background on his side of the phone.

“Is your party still going on?” I asked, smirking at what I made out to be a voice calling Trey’s name repeatedly. Like a needy child begging for attention.

He grunted. Whatever he said was muffled but sounded a lot like scolding. “No, it’s just my roommates. I went into my room, but they heard me on the phone and came to investigate. They thought it was my, and I quote, super-hot mom . I swear—”

I snickered. “I don’t blame them. Chelsea is a MILF.”

He groaned over the line while another voice called out, “See! Maybelle gets me.”

“Get out of here, Larson. And May, don’t encourage him, please.” Multiple sources of laughter echoed to me, joining my own.

Suddenly, an uproar of Trey yelling and the other voices bellowing ricocheted through the speaker. Loud enough that I had to remove the phone from my ear until another unfamiliar voice addressed me.

“Maybelle?”

“Yes?”

“This is Bear. You’re coming to the scrimmage next Friday, right?”

All the background noises went silent, even Trey. I hesitated, not exactly sure what to say. I knew what I wanted to say, but I didn’t quite know what to say.

“Uh, hi, Bear,” I said, the other line still expectantly quiet, “I mean I’d love to but—”

“She said yes!” the voice belonging to Larson whooped out, sending the rest of them back into their chaos of hooting and hollering.

Oh shoot.

Trey’s distinguishable laughter was back at the front. “Hey, May, these guys aren’t going away anytime soon. Can I call you again tomorrow?”

I smiled to myself. “Of course. Goodnight, Trey.”

“Goodnight, Mayhem.”

Guess I’d be getting out there and making friends a lot sooner than I anticipated—which meant I needed to be walking ASAP.