Page 36 of Dear Future Husband (The Dearly Written #1)

I dragged my hands across my pants. “I wanted to explain what happened tonight. Juliette, she—”

Maybelle cut me off with an eager flap of her hand. “Oh, Trey, please, you don’t have to explain,” she said earnestly.

Drawing back, I scowled. Of course I needed to explain.

I opened my mouth to try again, but she stopped me.

“There’s nothing to explain because you don’t owe me anything.

We kissed a couple of times. That’s it. It’s not like we’re officially together or anything,” she said this so carelessly.

Like my world wasn’t falling apart with every word coming out of her mouth.

A couple of kisses and that was it? Is that really all she thought we were? Had I fumbled? Had I not made myself obvious?

“No, May. We’re a lot more than a couple of kisses,” I insisted, but she was already shaking her head.

“We barely know each other. For crying out loud, I don’t even know your middle name.” She turned her head, squeezing her eyes shut before saying, “I just think we need to start over. Get to know each other, and just be friends.”

I was losing her; she was running away to hide behind her walls, and I couldn’t keep up. Maybelle had spent years dreaming of running away. I knew those dreams. I knew what she desperately tried to escape from—and right now—she was escaping me.

She fidgeted with her hands on her lap and whispered, “I just—we don’t know each other, Trey. We’re more strangers than we are friends.”

I could feel the knife she stabbed through my heart, making the wound bigger, spilling with all the hope I had gripped to the last year watching her sleep.

“That’s not true.” I reached for her hands, but she pulled them away.

“Yes, it is, Trey. We’ve barely gotten to know one another since I woke up with you living here. And you said, word for word, that our friendship before the accident had only been blossoming.”

“No, you don’t understand,” I shoved out. “We—I’ve been waiting for this, for us.” My voice was hiccuping like a prepubescent teen, but I couldn’t help it.

I’d been so patient, so hopeful, so ready to have my chance with the girl from the journal… The girl I’d fallen for through words—and it was all shattering right in front of me.

“No, I don’t think you understand. It’s not the same for me because I don’t remember waiting. You’re beautiful, god, you’re amazing from what I’ve seen in the last few weeks. But that’s all it’s been for me. A few weeks.”

“Maybelle, please—please just—” I began, but she stood from the bed, pivoting on her heel to face me.

“I don’t think you’re getting how tonight went for me, Trey, so allow me to put it plainly. I met your friends alone while you were off chatting with some cheerleader. I then sat with your friend and learned more about her in an hour than I’ve learned about you since living in your home.

“And do you know how stupid I felt wearing your football jersey like a smitten girl, while I watched you and said cheerleader kiss for the entire stadium to see? I was humiliated but realized that I have no right to be jealous or confused because we aren’t dating.

And as of right now, you and your mom are all I have in the world.

I can’t lose you both if things ever went really wrong between us. ”

She sucked in a deep breath and took a step toward me. “We can’t do this—I can’t do this anymore. I-I just don’t know you.”

And that there was the kicker. I finally had her. The wait was supposed to be over. The woman I was beyond in love with was awake and alive right in front of me and she didn’t know who I was. While I was cursed and blessed to know every intimate detail of her.

I was the joke, and this was the punchline...

Maybelle heaved a long sigh before she walked towards the door. “I’ll let you have your room. I’m going to sleep out on the couch.”

Closing my eyes, I took a second to gather myself before standing. “No, you’re not.” I nabbed a pillow and the extra blanket, tucking them under my arm. “I’ll take the couch; you sleep in here. Be ready to head back home in the morning.”

Ignoring the ache in my body to pull her close, I left before she could get her mouth to open to argue.

When I slugged back into the living room, the guys were still in their spots and waiting. Bear gave me a forlorn smile. Williams stared aghast at the bedding under my arm while Larson turned away to hide his laughter in the crook of his elbow.

I dropped my stuff on the puny couch, already feeling the crick in my neck and back.

“I’m using your shower, Larson and I’m borrowing a change of clothes,” I said as I made my way to the first bedroom on the right. Larson was shouting, but I didn’t hear nor cared to hear as I shut and locked the door behind me.

***

I woke before the sun tinted the sky a grayish blue. My body felt as if it had been trampled and beaten in the night.

That little couch would’ve been uncomfortable for Maybelle’s tiny body to sleep on. So, my massive, over six-foot, football body didn’t stand a chance and, to make matters worse, I had a migraine that threatened to cripple me.

I sat up from the couch, stretching out my achy body as I thought back to last night.

Maybelle’s “friend” agreement was crap, and she knew it. I could move slowly if that was what she needed. I could be patient. I waited by her bed for an entire year. I could be her friend, let her learn what I already knew.

That she and I were endgame.

I brushed my hands over my face groaning with exhaustion. We had to be okay. We would be okay.

But what she said about losing me and Mom came rocketing back. Maybelle was scared. She was scared to ruin things so badly she would lose the only family she had.

Could I really push that line of her anxieties?

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 you were 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 or not because we belonged together—Hold that thought.

Maybelle’s hands curled into my shirt. She wasn’t pulling me close—not yet—but I could see the war. The desire and restraint battle within her.

She wanted me.

Oh, I wanted to give in. To fall into her silent pleads, but an idea crashed like lightning against my skull.

This. This was how I would get her back.

I wouldn’t get her back playing friends or letting her sideline me. No. I was going to make this feisty, stubborn girl see me. See us. I didn’t need to win her back because she was already mine.

I pushed forward, leaving no doubt that I too would give into temptation. Maybelle fell for the bait, closing her eyes, tilting herself up, inviting me to kiss her. That’s where I halted.

“This whole friend thing isn’t sounding so fun now, is it?” I whispered.

Her eyes opened wide just in time to see me wink and push off the door, leaving her still pressed into the immovable surface.

You want to be friends, Mayhem?

Fine. Game on.