Page 37 of Dear Future Husband (The Dearly Written #1)

Maybelle

A week had passed since that long, awkward ride back home to Chelsea. I almost kissed the ground when Trey and I arrived home, freeing myself of the painfully quiet vehicle. Trey seemed unbothered by the tension that made me bite my right thumbnail down to a nasty nub.

Trey and Chelsea went out to dinner that Saturday, early evening, for their mother-son date, and I was beyond thankful for it.

I didn’t see Trey again before he left back to school. He took off early that Sunday morning.

He didn’t text or call me that week. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss him, but if I learned anything from my weekend at college, this was how it had to be, or I would risk everything.

Not only was my stupid, vulnerable heart on the line, but acknowledging that I hardly knew Trey caused a lot of unrealized insecurities to tunnel through my chest.

The main one being that the Turners were the only individuals in the world offering to care for me, to give me a place to come home to, support me and be a family for me.

If things went bad between me and Trey—I could lose the only people I had in the world.

And Chelsea—Chelsea loved me.

Would she still love me if her son and I crashed and burned? I liked to think I knew them well enough. That the Turners would never abandon me. But there was a deep-rooted fear inside me, needling me with the idea that I was being too trusting.

Anyway, this week was far too busy to think about Trey.

Fat lie, but that’s beside the point.

I’d been cooking up a plan, finalized all the details Thursday but was waiting to announce my news until Trey was home to hear them in person.

I was giddy with excitement as I slipped on a fitted, spring leaf green, capped sleeve tee with whitewash jeans in the bathroom.

Today was a good day, and I knew it would only get better because I did the impossible this morning.

I ran.

Granted, it was more like a bouncy, fast walk that was a spectacle to witness and left my joints screaming. But it was enough, and I didn’t fall. Next up, sprinting, and tonight was the first step to getting there.

I paused, making eye contact with myself in the bathroom mirror, giving my image one last once over before exiting.

New, more apparent freckles smattered across the bridge of my nose and tops of my round, rosy cheeks.

My hips were fuller and the green top I wore made my eyes favor a sea foam color.

My arms looked powerful under the fabric.

My honey gold curls coiled around me as I combed my fingers in the roots and fluffed to add volume.

My hair was now my favorite feature of myself. Earlier in the week, Chelsea took me to get it cut. The hairdresser shortened the curls from past my butt to my mid back. The length was still elegant and long, but the coils sprung with so much more excitement at the loss of the extra dead weight.

I no longer looked plagued by remnants of exhaustion or appeared stale with the lack of life.

I was pretty.

Jumping at the sound of the front door opening and closing, I overheard Trey and his mom greeting one another in the kitchen.

It was time.

I left the bathroom. The house was filled with the amazing aroma of a new pasta recipe Chelsea was trying out and I already knew by the taste of the air that it was going to be life-altering delicious.

When I entered the kitchen, I found Trey straining the boiled pasta noodles with his mom. The universe must hate me because he somehow got prettier in the last week.

His muscled arms bulged against the fabric of a plain white tee. His wavy hair fell a tad longer, and messier across his brows. The shadow along his jaw line was thicker with scruff.

Focus Maybelle, focus.

Chelsea and Trey were speaking low, recapping his week of training and preparing for classes to start next week.

My hands were trembling. I was going to explode my secret all over the place. I sucked in a deep breath and held it in as I made my way to set the table.

I was so enthralled with my big news and how I would present it, I briefly forgot how tensely uncomfortable things might still be between me and Trey until I reached for the utensils in a drawer to his left.

Simultaneously, he reached for a serving spoon, causing our hands to make contact.

I instantly halted, but Trey was smooth as he let that light touch continue to slip up my wrist, gliding it across my forearm and off my elbow.

Sending a ruckus of shivers through my bones while he took a step back, giving me a good view of his smirk.

“Hello, friend.”

The greeting should’ve been upbeat. Something I imagined Penny would’ve called out to me in that high-pitched chipper voice of hers, but Trey’s husky baritone made it sound so unbearably, frustratingly sensual.

Like something I’d want him to whisper into my ear as he pinned me against a wall, creating a physical storm between us that would drown—no—annihilate the term “friend”. Leaving no chance for a platonic survival— Pause, delete, delete, delete.

Not the type of thoughts to be having for a guy who kissed another girl in front of me or whom I just recently banished into the friend zone. Nope, I needed to pull my mind out of the pleasurable, very dirty gutter and focus.

No matter how fun and enticing that gutter may seem.

Trey Turner was off limits. End of story.

I relaxed and slanted him my own mocking smirk as I gave him a light, friendly pat on the beefy shoulder.

“Hey, buddy,” I chirped back, and his face fell into a grimace.

Smiling, I grabbed the dinner utensils I previously attempted to retrieve, setting forks and spoons on the three place mats at the small dining table.

I didn’t listen to Trey and his mom as they continued to catch up. Instead, I pulled out my vibrating phone to see a couple new messages pop up across the top of the screen.

I bit my lip to hide the glee that threatened to give me away too soon.

Penny’s super friendly peppy-ness had startled at the football scrimmage. But I grew fond of it through the night and more attached as we continued to talk in the following days.

“Who are you texting, Maybelle? Is it Penny?” Chelsea asked as she approached with the pot of pasta straight off the stove.

I told Chelsea about Penny when she asked how my weekend out of town had been. She was thrilled. She even joined me on a facetime call with Penny the other night to introduce herself.

Dropping my phone into my back pocket, I nodded. “Yeah, she wanted to call me later.”

I ignored Trey’s curious gaze. I wondered if it surprised him to hear I wasn’t entirely friendless without him.

Chelsea’s demeanor was sunshine as she took a seat at the table. “I’m so glad you made a friend. Especially with Penny Howell. I met her mom once. Bit of a stern lady. A little difficult to talk to, but Penny has always been so sweet.”

I sank into my chair, draping my napkin across my lap. Perhaps this was the perfect moment? No sense in waiting until after the meal if we were already on the topic.

“I’m glad you feel that way, Chelsea,” I started, my heart suddenly crawling up my throat. “Because she asked me to move in with her and I said yes.”

The emotional shift in the room was so abrupt, I regretted not planning out my presentation of the big news more. Chelsea’s expression fell with wary concern while Trey’s brows furrowed.

“Penny lives in the dorms as a student. You can’t just move in,” he said, breaking the silence.

His immediate assumption that I didn’t know that or hadn’t thought that far ahead was almost insulting. To the point I wanted to snark back with a sassy comment or two, but I bit my tongue.

“I understand. That’s why I enrolled at SDU.

I guess I had applied and was accepted before the accident.

I actually found my acceptance letter in that bag you got for me.

” I smiled while the crease between Trey’s brows deepened.

“At the scrimmage, when I met Penny, she said they needed another roommate. So, I called the school on Monday. They’re allowing me to start this semester since I had a pretty good excuse for missing those first semesters. I start next week with everyone else.”

I looked at Chelsea. I already knew that Trey wouldn’t be totally on board for this right away. He would want me to be kept safe at home.

So right now, Chelsea’s opinion and approval mattered more than anything. She had helped and pushed me so much. If she didn’t think I was ready for this, I would listen.

Her considering eyes studied me. “Will you live close to Trey?”

I nodded. “I’m pretty sure it’s less than a five-minute walk from his place.” I turned to Trey, but he didn’t confirm, deny, or show any signs he was listening to the conversation. His focus drifted to a random spot on the far wall.

I twisted back to Chelsea. The worry lines in her face had softened a fraction, but her lips still held tight in consideration. She squirmed in her chair before letting out a deep breath.

“Just one more thing,” she said. “You’ll still come back home to visit, right? Because I’m not changing that room. It belongs to you, and I’d love to see you in there reading your books on weekends when you’re not busy and continue our romcom marathons together.”

I choked back the sudden emotion that threatened to launch me into a full-blown sob. Chelsea had a gift in saying things that made me stupid emotional.

It was embarrassing.

“Of course,” I tried to say in a normal tone, but the words escaped in a sputtered whisper.

Her uncertainty immediately broke into a bright grin. “How exciting,” she exclaimed. “This is such fun news. I’m so proud of you. And now I have two college kids to brag to my friends about.”

She gestured for my plate. I handed it to her, and she dished a beautiful helping of the pasta. She then reached for Trey’s plate, dishing him up as well.

“It’ll be nice to have you driving home together for the weekend instead of Trey making that drive alone,” she said as she returned him his dinner plate.