Page 33 of Dear Future Husband (The Dearly Written #1)

Maybelle

I successfully snuck back into Trey’s room without being discovered. The athlete was exactly where I left him, draped over the massive, fluffy bed.

After allowing myself a moment to gawk, I retrieved my outfit I planned for the game today and crept into Trey’s private bathroom to shower.

The bathroom was cramped, but fresh, white, and clean. The towels he had were big, plush and an elegant black. He even had an air freshener plugged into the wall that was scented with a spicy note I didn’t know the name for.

After my shower, I wrapped myself in a towel. I was applying the makeup Chelsea bought me earlier in the week. There was a peachy gloss for my lips, a pink blush and mascara. Chelsea told me I wasn’t allowed to use foundation because my skin was too good, and my freckles were too cute to cover up.

I finished applying my blush and mascara but was in the middle of painting my lips glossy when there was a soft rap on the door.

I set down the gloss, tightened the towel around my body, but let the towel wrapped in my hair topple out onto the floor just before I opened the door.

Before me stood a sleepy Trey, who must’ve just woken up by the look of his half-mast eyes, messy hair, and the imprint of the pillows on his face.

A lazy smile spread first, then his emerald eyes almost fell out of his face as he skimmed my body up, down, and back up again.

He cleared his throat and stood straighter against the door frame. “Wow, uh, yeah, just wow.”

I glanced down at myself, then back at him. “Wow, what?”

He gave me a conspiratorial look that told me I should know, but I didn’t. I was in a towel. My hair was a wet mess. What was wow about tha—ah.

I was only in a towel. Practically naked.

How I brushed over that fact before opening the door, I would never know. My skin was now hot and probably super pink, but I held my ground and gave Trey my prettiest smile.

“Oh, this old thing?” I said in a proper voice as I made to curtsy in the towel like a dress. Except, when I pulled it up at the corner, I nearly flashed him my lady bits and my cheeks turned a deep strawberry color.

I risked a look at Trey, who was watching me with amusement. His eyes doing things to me I wished he would do with his hands.

“Um,” I started, needing to ease the tightening tension between us. “Do you need the bathroom? I’m almost done.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face and jaw like he was desperately trying to wake himself from a trance. “Nope, just wanted to check in on you. You hungry? Bear is making breakfast; I can tell him to cook you something.”

I swallowed, bobbing my head up and down, flirting with the idea of asking him what he was thinking. Or even better, just accidentally letting my towel fall from my hands, see how he handled that .

“Yes, thank you,” I said instead, smiling like a little devil with the ideas twirling around in my head.

He narrowed his eyes. His hand took up a spot on the door frame above my head as he leaned in delightfully close. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, May?”

I held his eyes with mine, not letting my smile waver as I shrugged. “Just thinking about how you might react if my towel just…slipped.” I popped my lips with the pronunciation and his eyes went ablaze.

That was my answer. He’d react in the best, most sensational way.

Trey bent down into my space, lips brushing by my ear. “Why don’t you and see what happens?”

Didn’t have to tell me twice.

I was ready to let the cloth fall, to kiss him with no barriers. Just skin on glorious skin. My fingers twitched and taunted with the temptation when a loud fist pounded on the bedroom door.

I jumped back, hands painfully latching to my towel.

“Turner, Maybelle. Bear has breakfast ready. Get your asses out here,” Larson bellowed from the other side of the door.

“Go to hell, Chad,” Trey growled back, and I couldn’t help giggling.

Larson replied with a curious, “Okay?” And a couple of mumbled remarks we couldn’t hear as his loud retreating footsteps echoed down the hall.

Trey faced me again. His features were tight as he put both hands on either side of the door frame and took full inventory of me still standing under him, trembling from the rush.

“Where were we?” he asked, and I smirked.

“I was about to get dressed and you’re expected for breakfast.”

His brows furrowed with obvious disappointment, lips rolling together. “Right. ”

We remained like that for a beat. Like we could soak up every detail of the tension-filled moment as we both gave each other one last once over.

Me, with an overly sweet smile, shut the door and Trey, with a hand raking through his messy hair, left the room.

About a half hour later, my hair was a dry, frizzy mane that curled down past my hips.

I needed a haircut.

I walked up to the bathroom mirror to inspect my outfit in the reflection.

I brought jean shorts for my outfit, not thinking about my already scuffed up knees and how they were super red and angry looking now.

I considered wearing a pair of leggings instead, but it was too hot, and it would drag down the top I wore special for Trey.

I cleaned up my knees best I could, came up with a story about them being rug burns from falling in physical therapy.

Then I headed out the door to the kitchen, which smelt like what I imagined the word home to smell like.

A warm, buttery, cinnamon, vanilla and citrus combination that wrapped its comforting embrace around your senses and welcomed you in to stay.

Trey was sitting at the counter with Larson, while Bear was in a black apron whipping up pancakes with his back to me. When I exited the hallway, Larson was the first to notice and, by his growing smirk, I’d done well with my outfit choice.

Bear turned to face me, giving me the perfect view of the scrawl across the front of the apron that read, Mr. Good Looking is cooking . He grinned, one hand holding a pan of pancakes while the other held a spatula.

“Good morning. I love the team pride you got going on.”

At Bear’s acknowledgment of me, Trey finally turned to see me, and his reaction was everything I’d hoped for.

His eyes were wide. A muscle in his jaw ticked while his merciless gaze roamed up my exposed legs to the SDU football jersey Chelsea had fished out of his closet at home for me.

It was his first season jersey that had his name printed across the back and his number thirty-three.

I spun to show off the name and number on the back, ecstatic with Trey’s focus on my every move.

“You guys like it?”

Larson and Bear both peered over at Trey, who was still silent, shamelessly gawking at me.

Larson cleared his throat. “I think you look hot.”

Trey turned with predatory slowness to glower at Larson, who smiled smugly.

“Thank you, Chad.” I beamed as I pranced into the kitchen to join Bear. He’d made the fluffiest pancakes I’d ever seen. Joined by caramel syrup and chopped up strawberries with homemade whipped cream.

I went to stick a finger in the whipped cream for a quick taste, but Bear was already there, giving me a solid booty bump that sent me stumbling a couple of steps.

“Get out of my kitchen,” he growled through his beard-covered smile.

I chuckled, sucking my finger clean of the dollop of cream I successfully pilfered. I obeyed the chef, leaving his part of the kitchen to sit next to Trey, who was still mutely watching me.

I took the seat, then leaned over and whispered, “Your staring is getting a little creepy now.”

He snorted and dropped his face in his hands, muttering something I didn’t catch but still managed to make me smile.

After breakfast, the guys spent the rest of their morning packing their things, getting dressed and in the zone for the scrimmage. During which, I lay across Trey’s bed reading through my journal while also admiring Trey in his jersey and jeans as he packed and prepared his things .

The scrimmage wasn’t until tonight, but before there would be a tailgate party held out in the parking lot. It was planned with ample time for the players to hangout before they would need to head in with the coach to prep.

A few hours later, we all packed up. Trey, me, and Williams in Trey’s Jeep while Larson and Bear rode in Bear’s Ford Raptor. The football stadium was a less than a ten-minute drive from the apartment and the parking lot was packed to the brim with vehicles, tents, cookers, and people partying.

I thought that seeing this many people together in one place might be overwhelming, but nope. I was made for this. People, events, friends, excitement—I was made for college.

Trey parked the car while Williams hopped out of the back seat to open my door. As I jumped out, he adjusted my sleeve that had ridden up my arm, covering up my bandaged elbow. He shot me a quick wink before throwing his arm over my shoulders, walking with me and Trey into the crowd.

“Hey, Turner. Is Penny coming?” Williams asked over me to Trey, who trailed close by.

“She told me she’d be here, but she’s bringing a date.”

“No way,” Williams called back. “Is it serious?”

We meandered past a loud group of drunk frat boys before Trey said, “Yeah, sorry to break it to you, man. She sounded pretty head over heels for this guy.”

His hand wrapped around mine, pulling me out from under Williams’s grasp into his own. All while keeping pace through the gatherings of students eating barbecue, drinking and speakers blasting music.

“Damnit, don’t tell me that.” Williams dropped his hands with a slap against his sides.

Trey chuckled, hugging onto me tighter.

I glanced sideways at him. “Who’s Penny?”

He pressed his head into my hair, lips breathing past my ear. “I’ll introduce you to her tonight. I think you’ll like her.”

At the edge of the tailgate party, a massive horde of football players and cheerleaders sat together. Music blared from a few freestanding speakers, and some players, including Bear, were cooking hotdogs and burgers on portable grills.