Page 48 of Dear Future Husband (The Dearly Written #1)
Trey
Earlier that Saturday morning, the walk with Maybelle had been quiet. Too quiet.
I tried to talk to her. Desperate to start up any conversation, but she only gave me one-word answers. Even to questions that required a lot more than one-word explanations.
She didn’t look sad or upset. She just seemed preoccupied.
I swear I could see the gears shifting in her brain, hard at work.
I wanted to ask her what was going on, help her with whatever was on her mind, but I knew Maybelle.
She wouldn’t spill her secret thoughts unless she wanted to.
Candor was now one of her key personality traits and one of my favorite things about her.
She would talk to me. She just needed to work through her internal clutter first. So, I let her be, knowing that when she was ready, she’d tell me everything.
Now, I was in my black suit and black tie, matching my brothers for the football banquet. We decided to carpool. Williams and I, together with our dates in my Jeep. Bear, whoever he was taking and Sam, of all people, with my Maybelle, were riding together.
Larson had taken off early since he was giving a speech. He wanted to be there before the rest of the crowd.
“So, Samuel, I hear you and our little Mason have been seeing a lot of one another lately.” Williams sprawled out on the couch next to Sam. Sam sat dressed in his black suit, black tie, hair combed back with enough gel to last the apocalypse and a Coke can from our fridge in his hand.
He'd been at the apartment for the last hour, dressed and ready to go. Bear invited him over early to hangout—figures. But the man sat in the same spot, quiet, clutching the soda can for dear life while his focus darted to me.
I couldn’t help but puff my chest out a bit.
I had scared the poor kid shitless that night when I interrupted his kiss with Maybelle.
Apparently, he hadn’t fully recovered from it.
Which was honestly unfortunate because I didn’t hate Sam as a person.
I thought he was an idiot that had no game, but we were teammates—brothers.
I just couldn’t wrap my jealous head around why Maybelle would kiss him and go to the banquet with him.
And that’s exactly what this was, jealousy .
Maybelle and I finally had our chance. After all the waiting and uncertainty, we finally had a chance but she friend zoned me. Now, I had to sit back and watch as my girl kissed and went to the banquet with another man, and it hurt.
Stay with me and let me pretend you’re mine.
That day, that night, those year-long hours in my bed were on constant repeat in my mind.
I’m yours. That statement alone kept me from being suffocated by the envious, strangling thoughts and the self-torture of watching Maybelle with anyone but me.
She’d been mine, and I was always hers.
Sam’s eyes flinched to me at the question before he straightened. “Yes, we have.”
Williams nodded. “That’s sweet, man. Maybelle is an awesome girl. I know any of us here would do just about anything for her.” He eyed Sam, leaning forward.
I couldn’t help but grin.
Sam took a long swig of his Coke. Then announced like a proud asshole who thinks he’s won something, “Yeah, she’s my girlfriend.”
And I guess he had. Sam fucking Cameron had won it all if he got to call Maybelle Mason his.
I’m yours … Pretend.
Every muscle in my body pulled so tight it felt like they might tear under the skin while Williams choked on air and doubled over in a coughing fit.
“Your girlfriend?” I asked, the hard skepticism obvious in my voice.
Sam only nodded boldly, oblivious.
Is this why she’d been so quiet this morning? Did she not know how to break the news to me?
Pretend. Pretend. Pretend.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Bear creeping out from the hall. His eyes were heavy on me with a sorrowful-ridden expression before peering at Sam.
“When did this happen, Sam?”
Sam, seeming a lot more confident with the big lineman part of the conversation, rolled back into the sofa.
He slurped at the can of Coke before saying, “Last week. We became officially official at the party when I asked her to be my date for tonight. She also came to the game to support me last night.”
I was going to break him in half. All previous guilt at not liking my teammate was drop-kicked out the window. What was this scrawny, awkward as hell kid doing getting with my girl? My Maybelle!
I’m yours.
A knock on our apartment door interrupted before I could demand more answers. Williams, still recovering from his coughing fit, cleared his throat, then answered the door.
“Speak of the gorgeous devil. ”
He glided aside, allowing a perplexed, giggling Maybelle to float over the threshold. My heart stopped dead in my chest.
It was graduation night again, Maybelle in a tight powder blue dress. A bonfire in the distance, the waves crashing behind us and my arms cradling around her for the first time.
The dress she wore now was an identical shade of blue.
It made her eyes favor a devastating azure, but this dress was far more elaborate and mature.
The front delved into a deeper V neckline and fell past her knees to an elegant length that brushed the floor.
A slit carved up the side of her thigh, revealing up to the hip.
And the woman who wore the dress was not the same girl from that long ago night.
Her curls fell in heaps along her bare, bronzed back, framing her face like they had. Except tonight she didn’t hide behind a sweater, or a collection of things scrunched up in her arms. Maybelle Mason strutted in on white, heeled shoes, wearing her exposed, sun-kissed skin proudly.
Oxygen escaped me as her alluring blue eyes landed on me. A sensual smile tugged at the corners of her glossy, blush pink lips.
“Hi,” she said, approaching me—only me.
Not her so-called boyfriend, not Bear, not Williams, but me. And the way she looked at me screamed anything but friend.
I’m yours. I’m yours. I’m yours.
I opened my mouth. I wanted to tell her she was beautiful, no angelic, breathtaking, unreal... I wanted to say so many things but couldn’t get my damned mouth to move.
“Maybelle.”
Sam appeared at my side and my mouth snapped shut.
Right … Boyfriend .
But Maybelle’s eyes remained on me. Like she couldn’t be bothered to spare a glance toward the idiot who claimed her as his.
“Your shoe is undone,” he said pointedly, cutting through the trance. She finally tore her eyes from me, kicking a foot out to examine the loose strap of her heel.
“Lookie there,” she huffed, a trace of embarrassment hiding in her annoyed tone. She bent down, but I was already there, down on one knee.
“I’ve got it,” I said, my voice taking on a gravelly note.
I internally scolded myself for being such a fool for a girl taken by another guy. Except my self-chastisement fell apart when Maybelle steadied herself using my shoulders. The slit in her dress fell open as she raised her leg for me and revealed too much—no—not enough.
I glimpsed up to find her smirking blue-green eyes on me. I couldn’t help but grin back, letting my fingers brush along the smooth skin of her ankle.
Christ, her legs shimmered in the dull apartment lighting. Like she put glitter in a vanilla scented lotion. It made her appear that much more ethereal, untouchable.
But there I was, on my knees, touching her.
“Thank you, Trey,” her voice lowered too as her fingers dug harder in the tops of my shoulders.
I tried to drag out my work of the loosened strap. There was only so much stalling I could do before it got uncomfortable for everyone, and I was brutally taunting that line.
Finishing with the strap, I collared the base of her ankle with one hand, lowering her foot back to the ground. I let my touch slowly slip up her calf as I risked one last, full inhale of her sweet, vanilla scent.
Then I rose, coming face to face with Maybelle. She opened her mouth like she might say something, but Sam Cameron was there, lacking the necessary social skills to see he was interrupting a great moment.
“You look beautiful tonight, babe. ”
Maybelle’s glossy mouth clicked shut.
That was the reality gut punch I needed to remember myself and where I was. I turned away, leaving Sam and Maybelle alone.
I shot a quick look at Williams as I grabbed my keys.
“You ready?”
He was crouched in the pantry stuffing one of my pop tarts in his mouth. I couldn’t care right now, I just needed out of there.
He nodded, concentrating on chewing his food before swallowing and saying goodbye to Maybelle and Sam. I didn’t bother. I was already too far down the hall to hear her say goodbye.