Page 40 of Dear Future Husband (The Dearly Written #1)

Trey

It was too early for this, but I was up and waiting outside Maybelle’s door at the ass crack of dawn to walk with her.

Since she moved here, we’d been meeting up in the early hours of the morning. School had started back up. So, after our walks, I ran to strength training with the team. Then I had classes and ended my days off with football practice.

Only two weeks and some days into the semester, and I felt like I could hardly keep up. As exhausted as I was, though, I wouldn’t give up these early walks with Maybelle.

They were the highlight of my day.

I hadn’t lied to her when I promised I would walk with her every day, no matter what. Morning, night, rain or shine, I would be there… For as long as I breathed, Maybelle Mason would never walk alone again.

She emerged from her apartment, snicking the door shut. Her golden curls were fluffed haphazardly from a long night of sleep. She wore a white sweater tied low on her hips. It hung over attractive blue leggings that paired with her matching sports bra.

She spun from the door, eyes shimmering azure, with a bright grin taking up her entire face.

“Am I going to be spending the rest of my life waiting on you, May?” I felt my smirk mirror hers as I watched her freckled nose scrunch up at me. It took every ounce of my limited control not to grab her and kiss every damned freckle on her face.

“I couldn’t find my other shoe.”

Naturally, I peered down to see she wasn’t saying she had struggled to find her shoe but later found it and was now ready. No, Maybelle couldn’t find her shoe, so she now wore two different sneakers on each foot.

“You realize you could’ve worn the sneakers you had the matching pair for?” I asked, the timbre of my voice wavering on a chuckle.

She shrugged. “The thought crossed my mind, but not until after both shoes were already on my feet.” She brushed by me, her steps bouncy. “Come on, Turner. We’re burning daylight!”

“There isn’t any daylight to burn yet,” I grumbled under my breath, glancing at the stale blue of the waking sky.

Of course, Maybelle Mason was a morning person.

It would’ve surprised me if she wasn’t.

It only took me a few long strides until I was by her side, and we started on our regular, roundabout path. One that took across campus, through neighboring apartment buildings and right back here.

“How are classes going?” I asked.

She was biting the inside of her cheek as she focused on walking fast. She took cautious steps that wouldn’t bother her knee.

Couple mornings prior, she stumbled at the end of our walk trying to climb the stairs to her apartment. She bruised her knee. Maybelle didn’t leave her fallen spot on the stairs for at least ten minutes. She stayed put, fuming with frustration at the lack of control she had over her tired limbs .

I hadn’t said anything. I only joined her on the steps, allowing her to rest her head against my shoulder while I wrapped her up in my arms.

I still thought she was pushing her body too hard, but with each morning walk, I started to understand why she did it.

Maybelle was the embodiment of what it meant to live and not just survive. Even after the mess of losing her family, losing her memories, and her coma she wouldn’t sit still. She refused to let one day pass her by without progress, accomplishment and memories made.

Maybelle wanted to wake up, so she did.

Maybelle wanted to walk, and she did.

Maybelle wanted to run... And I guess you could call whatever the hurried, super jerky walk she did, “running.” Now, Maybelle wanted to sprint, make friends, go to college, create a name for herself and she would... She already was.

“What in the world even is algebra?” she finally griped in answer to my question I almost forgot about. “I don’t know if I’m dumb or what, but I’m screwed.”

“Have you tried finding a tutor or a study group?” I asked, as we slowed our pace.

“Yeah, I met up with some other students after class and I couldn’t follow a thing they said. They could’ve been speaking a foreign, dead language and I wouldn’t have known the difference.”

“Do you want help? Like a private tutor?” I asked, hiding the smirk that teased my mouth.

She didn’t notice.

Her eyes remained tracked on the path ahead.

“If you know someone, send them my way. I’ll take all the help I can get.”

Now my smile was on full display.

“Okay, I can fit you in on Sunday mornings. We can meet before each of your exams to make sure you are ready for them,” I planned while Maybelle side-eyed me .

“Thanks, but no.”

“And why not?”

“Because.”

“Mayhem.”

“Turner?”

I sighed, irritated with the laughter bubbling at the back of my throat. “You’re being complicated for no reason.”

She walked faster. “I’m not trying to be annoying; I don’t want you to help me because I know how busy you already are.”

I was honestly surprised. Surprised that she wasn’t saying no to be stubborn but thoughtful of my loaded schedule.

Not that Maybelle wasn’t usually thoughtful.

Since deciding to be just friends, she made it a mission to make it impossible for me to take care of her.

Like if she were to agree to any of my offers of help, she’d let me in too close.

“I know Sundays are your only day off. I don’t want to take up the little time you have. I appreciate the offer, though.” She began to skip-walk which was what I determined to be her attempt at a run.

I widened my walking strides to keep up.

“Maybelle.”

I knew that would get her attention; I rarely used her first name. The name was too cute, too adorable to call the infuriating woman I found so unbearably attractive. And calling her Mayhem always brought a gleam to her eyes that challenged me in the best sort of ways.

She stopped her trot. She quit moving all together, facing me fully and gave me her undivided attention.

I would need to use that strategy more often, apparently.

“As your friend, I would want nothing more than to spend my free time with you. Especially if it will help you pass your class,” I vowed, the platonic word tasting bitter on my tongue .

She stared up at me with considering eyes.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

My god, yes, woman .

I’d spend every waking moment with you if you’d let me .

“Yes, May.”

***

“I got it!”

The apartment door tore open. I couldn’t help the slight disappointment I felt when it was Penny smiling on the other side of the door.

“Oh, Trey. Hey, what’s up?” she asked, blatantly taking in my disheveled appearance.

I’d been at the gym, working myself into a frenzy. Maybelle had only been in my world for a couple of weeks. She was barely a few minutes’ drive away, and it was killing me. I was trying to give her space, respect her friend boundaries, but tonight I surrendered to what I wanted.

Just this morning I’d been with her for our walk, but it wasn’t enough. I needed more. I needed all of it, all of her.

Earlier I was antsy. I wanted to call her, ask her how her day was. See if she wanted to move up the tutoring we scheduled for Sundays to today. But I controlled the urges and instead threw myself into strength training at the gym.

That hadn’t lasted long. Before I knew it, I ditched my equipment in the middle of a set, threw my stuff into my car and sped straight to her. Still dressed in my sweat-drenched shirt and shorts.

“Hey, Penn,” I breathed, still winded. “Is May here?”

Her smile turned smug as she opened the door for me. “Come on in, Loverboy.”

I followed her into the apartment to the room she and Maybelle now shared. She knocked twice on the door before entering. “Hey, hope you’re decent. You have company.”

Following Penny into the room—hoping the exact opposite—I was pleased to see Maybelle wasn’t indecent in the terms of modesty. But she was in the sense that she was caught wearing something truly delicious.

“Huh—” Penny huffed as she glided about. “I’m surprised to see you reading something other than one of your dirty little romances.”

Locking eyes with me over the pages of the journal she was reading, Maybelle’s face burned a fiery red.

“Wow, Penn. Thanks for the heads up,” she drawled as she closed the journal. Then she stood from the bed in nothing but the tiniest shorts I’d ever seen and—my football jersey.

The jersey had looked good on her the day of the scrimmage, but now, it was a whole new kind of attractive. Her fluffy blonde curls fell over the front and her tiny cotton shorts showed off her tan, strong legs.

Shrugging, Penny flung herself out on Maybelle’s bed with a satisfied grin.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Belles. Hey, Trey, do you think you could get her more jerseys, or at least a few shirts with your name and number on them?

Belles wears this one to bed every night and I’m afraid she’ll wear it out in no time. ”

Maybelle looked about ready to maim the sweet redhead. I stepped between a furious Maybelle and her scheming friend, acting as a willing shield.

“Absolutely,” I said, which had Maybelle’s eyes flicking up to me. “I’ll give you my last name any way you like.”

She didn’t speak, but her nose scrunched, and her eyes rolled as she took a long step back from me. She perched on the edge of Penny’s bed that lined the left wall and I followed, taking the seat beside her.

“Oh, my gosh, you two are just the cutest,” Penny crooned, sprawling herself out across Maybelle’s sheets. “ Our Belles here really is such a stunner, isn’t she, Trey?”

“She really is,” I answered, ignoring the way Maybelle glared at the side of my face.

Sitting up from the bed, Penny pinned me with a wide-eyed, blue-gray stare. “Has Maybelle told you about her admirer?”

“Penn,” Maybelle groaned in warning.

“Shh, Belles. Trey should know who his competition is.”

Shaking her head, Maybelle stood from the bed, giving me the sweetest view of those damn shorts. “I’m going to take a shower.”