Page 6 of Dear Future Husband (The Dearly Written #1)

Maybelle

I woke up to sunlight streaming through my bedroom window.

It was Wednesday, the long-awaited graduation day.

Seniors weren’t expected at the school until this evening, but Liam, not to my surprise, but far from my delight, signed us both up to help with setup.

Which meant we had to arrive at least an hour earlier than the rest of the student body.

I drowsily glanced over at my constant blue alarm clock. It was early. With so much spare time before I would need to get ready, and with the events of yesterday still weighing heavy on my heart, I decided to go for a run.

Running—not a favorite pass time for many, but for me, it was an escape. A little time of peace. A moment of pretend.

I rolled out of bed. Slipped on a pair of black leggings and a black sports bra.

Over top, I pulled on a black sweater I left unzipped.

Then I grabbed socks and a pair of black sneakers with white detailing.

Obviously, I had a favorite color to work out in.

I was reserved and pretty insecure, but I liked my stout body in dark workout clothes .

Standing before my vanity, I did what I could to tame my tangled nest of bedhead. I watered down my frizzy, ringlet curls with a spray bottle, then proceeded to French-braid them into two tight braids.

As I toiled with my hair, staring at myself in the mirror while I worked, I studied the reflection.

My eyebrows were light, too light against the tan of my skin and barely cousins by similarity.

My eyes were an undetermined mixed color of blue and green, and they were large.

Almost bug-eyed if I looked at them too long.

The number of freckles that burdened my nose and tops of my cheeks was unnatural.

It wasn’t like I hated my face... I just—didn’t get along with it. Eager to escape my self-abasement, I tore my gaze away from the mirror.

After brushing my teeth and slapping on a quick swipe of deodorant, I crept into the hallway, my wireless earbuds in hand. I warily paused, listening for the roaring snores that echoed from Liam’s room two doors down from mine.

He slept like the dead most mornings after his parties. I could be screaming for my life right then and it wouldn’t faze him, which was exactly what I wanted. I plugged my ear buds into my ear and blasted my music on high as I strolled to the kitchen, an extra hop to my step.

I was talented in some things, specifically in reading, writing, and sports, but singing was not one of those things. I was tone deaf, and I knew it, but it didn’t stop me from belting my heart out to my favorite songs. Obviously, only when I was alone in the car or in the safe solitude of my home.

That morning was no exception. I spun to the coffeemaker, whipping myself up a quick cup while I sang to the beating music of Stereo Hearts by Gym Class Heroes.

I slid through the kitchen, a bounce to each of my steps because when my need to squawk like a canary hit with the music, so did my need to “bust a move”.

So, I danced—more like skipped and jumped around the kitchen off beat, while singing extremely off key. It was a true, unfiltered version of myself I wouldn’t subject anyone to.

Spinning, I downed the rest of my warm coffee, then pulled an imaginary guitar out of thin air. I ripped out an amazing solo as I more or less squealed out the bridge to what was now Livin’ On A Prayer by Bon Jovi screaming through my skull.

When the song and my impressive solo finally ended, the song faded into my ear buds. There was a quick pause of silence between songs filled only by my deep breathing. That pause of semi-silence allowed me to hear the quick and astonished, “Holy shit.”

I stiffened. I knew that voice, and I knew the chuckle that followed that charming voice.

My eyes shifted forward to the sink. Maybe, if I moved fast enough, I could throw myself hard enough through the window sitting above the faucet.

There wasn’t much of a fall so I unfortunately wouldn’t die, but the glass would be enough to send me to the hospital.

That way, I wouldn’t have to face the boy, who, no doubt, stared at my back like I was a psychopath.

“Christ, Mayhem. That was awesome.”

That nickname .

I willed my now sweat-drenched hands to remove my ear buds that had moved onto another song and pivoted my body to face him.

His caramel hair was messy. His face was rugged with a lazy smile and the boy that stood on the opposite side of the kitchen from me was shirtless.

I’d seen Trey shirtless before at the beach and pool settings. But this moment was a whole new level of intimate as he watched me, fresh from sleep. The morning sun leaked through the windows. Casting his bronzed body in a fascinating combination of shadow and light contrasts.

Stunned, I knew my eyes were popping out of my skull, but at this point there was nothing I could do. I wasn’t mentally prepared for this moment, so my body had a mind of its own as I ogled him shamelessly.

After a too long bout of silence, in which I continued to stare wide-eyed like an idiot, Trey smiled. He crossed his arms over his exceptional chest, and I finally collected my wits enough to clear my throat.

“Uh, what are you doing here?”

Smooth, Maybelle.

His grin widened. “I was with Liam last night. There was this party, and…I might’ve had a little too much to drink.

So, uh, he drove us here in my Jeep and—” He brushed a hand through his messy waves of hair.

“Guess he tucked me in on the couch.” He shrugged, a hint of what might be shyness lacing his tone and movements.

Like Trey Turner could ever be embarrassed in front of me. Yeah, not a possibility.

My eyes darted to the couch that was a pile of blankets and cushions.

That was my new favorite couch.

“So, is everything alright?”

I turned back to the boy. The boy I still wasn’t sure was real or a figment of my imagination. I tilted my head curiously. “Is what alright?”

“You seemed upset after the rehearsal yesterday and Liam was a little off last night. Everything okay between you two?”

Scatter-brained, I nodded aggressively, sputtering out the first excuse I could think of. “Totally fine. I just—started my period…so Liam offered to rush me home.”

If only I were in the middle of oncoming traffic. I wouldn’t hesitate before throwing myself in front of a bus. I waited for Trey to grimace, look a little disgusted at the mention of a menstrual cycle like most boys would. But Trey only nodded thoughtfully .

“Are you feeling well enough to go to the party tonight? I hear there’s going to be karaoke.” He gifted me a teasing smile that just about did me in.

I swallowed, collecting myself.

“I’m feeling better, but I honestly wasn’t planning on it.

” I looked down, knowing I was being ridiculously awkward and curt, but I couldn’t help it.

Trey heard me sing. No—what he heard was more like shrieking.

He saw me dancing. Playing the air guitar like, I was the lead guitarist, Angus Young, ripping out a world-altering solo.

I gnawed on the inside of my cheek, refusing to look him in the eye.

From my peripheral, I could tell Trey was leaning over the kitchen counter that stood between us, resting his forearms on the flat space.

“Why not? This is the party, even bigger than prom.”

I shrugged, unsure of what to do with myself. “I am not a huge fan of parties.”

That was a lie.

I just wasn’t a fan of making myself look like a loser by showing up alone. Which would absolutely happen because I was a friendless turd.

“Oh, come on, May. I get it if other parties, even prom, hadn’t been worth your time, but you can’t miss tonight. You’ll regret it if you don’t go.”

The smile in his voice made me want to giggle—or barf. A lot of confusing and warring emotions were happening all at once in my muddled thoughts.

All because of him.

I was an obsessive psycho for this guy, and why?

Well, one, look at him!

He was jaw-dropping beautiful. And two, he was kind, personable, a friend to all. Trey had all the looks and a stunning side of personality to go with them.

And maybe—it was the way he looked at me the day we first met all those long months ago. The way he opened my car door for me, smiled so sweetly, and told me he thought I was pretty. I fell hard that hot summer day between our sophomore and junior years.

I was at the school, picking up Liam from a week-long football camp. I was wearing a lazy pair of soft jean shorts and a blue pajama tee. My hair was in a sleep-crazed knot on the top of my head, and that crazy, attractive boy had told me I was pretty.

It was a wild phenomenon I couldn’t understand and refused to believe in, so I ducked my head and ran.

From that day on, I continued to run anytime he so much as looked at me, let alone tried to speak to me. Trey had only been trying to be nice to his new best friend’s sister. Why else would he want to waste any of his energy on me?

I peered up from my hands that folded together as I recalled the long-ago, shoved away memories. “I don’t know. We’ll see how tonight goes.”

His lips turned up into a winning smile. “That’s not a no, I’ll take it. So, where are you headed so early?”

“Just going for a quick run.”

Trey’s face lifted with the rise of his brows, and his head slightly tilted.

“Impressive. I hate cardio,” he deadpanned the last part, and I couldn’t stop the snort that escaped me. I was ready to follow through with my original plan of throwing myself through the window now.

My feet shifted away, ready to hightail it out the front door. But Trey looked at me in such a bold way that made me feel like I just gave him a challenge he was all too eager to accept. So, my feet slowly straightened back, remaining rooted in anticipation of what he might say next.

“What’s so funny?” he asked as he leaned farther forward; green eyes narrowed in amusement.

Currently feeling more self-conscious than I’d ever been in my entire life, I fidgeted, trying to find a more comfortable position. I rested against the kitchen sink behind me. “It’s funny that you hate cardio when you’re the best senior running back in the state. Cardio is literally in the name.”

He seemed to consider this and smirked. “Yes, well, I enjoy running after the ball, to open for a pass or to take it home for a touchdown, but to run for the sake of running. Not my idea of a good time.”

I nodded, then deciding that sitting on the counter behind me would be a lot classier, I lifted myself up and sat myself next to the sink.

While I maneuvered onto the counter, (immediately regretting the move when the top cupboards forced me to slouch forward, making me look anything but classy) Trey rounded the corner of the tabletop that had been between us.

Now, his back was to the counter as he folded his arms across his bare chest. Giving me a full view of him in grey sweatpants… I didn’t know when I would wake up from this wet dream, but I prayed it wouldn’t be soon.

“I understand,” I choked out, trying to control my roaming gaze. “I used to play basketball. I hated running unless it was in a game, but after I quit, I realized I really liked the peace of mind that came with it.”

He shook his head, bewildered. “You played sports? Why’d you quit?”

“I wanted to focus on school after we moved here.” Another lie. I quit because at the time I could hardly find joy in waking each morning, let alone find joy in sports.

One of Trey’s large hands lifted, rubbing the back of his neck as he said, “Interesting. How did I not know this about you?”

Smiling, I gave a quick, jerky shrug. “I have very few musical talents, obviously, but my three-point shot isn’t bad, and I keep a level head in a tight game.”

Eyes bright, he stared up at me, like he might be seeing me for the first time. “Wow, May, I do not know a lot about you. Do I?”

His viridescent eyes remained glued on me while he adjusted his position until he stood directly in front of me. All he would have to do was take one step forward and my legs could wrap around his hips. My hands could tangle with those caramel curls and those lips…

My head slowly bobbed as I tore my eyes from his lips. “I—I don’t make it very easy for people to get to know me.”

“I can’t argue with that.” His head turned to the floor, brown hair toppling into his eyes as he peered up at me through dark, lowered lashes. A look that brought heat to my cheeks and belly.

His gaze was so intense, stripping. If he kept looking at me like that, he might see everything. He might see every faulty, charred part of my broken character and it was a reality I suddenly couldn’t risk.

Trey Turner couldn’t be let in. He couldn’t see the very innate bits of my heart because if he did, he may never look at me like this again. He would never look at me like I was someone worth seeing.

I could feel my vulnerable, fragile self crawling back into its nervous shell of comfort as I kicked off the counter, away from him. “Well, I better get this run over with.”

I tried to sidestep him, but as I moved, he was already there, grasping my fingers. He gave my hand a slight tug that halted my retreat and lured my eyes back to his.

Trey Turner had participated in a full conversation with me and now was purposefully touching me.

This was officially the best day of my young life.

I couldn’t help but look back down at my short fingers entrapped in his large hands.

I peered up at him, now having to tilt my head back to meet his gaze.

This moment, right here, was going to have at least three pages of my journal dedicated to explaining every minute detail.

He grinned down at me, dimples flashing.

“Thank you for the amazing concert this morning. ”

I grimaced and made to pull away, but he moved closer and held a little tighter to my fingers.

“And thank you for talking with me. I realize I have a lot more to learn about you.”

He dropped my hand. But before I could try to take off again, he was grabbing for the zipper of my open sweater. He locked the zipper into the teeth and dragged it up to just over my chest.

His stare was heavy as he watched my body move with each breath. Flicking up, his green eyes locked with mine.

“And I plan to learn it all,” he promised.

I entirely lacked the focus and confidence, really, to say anything cute or flirty back, so I did what I could manage. I smiled, no teeth, so as not to seem too eager, but big enough to show just how happy that comment had made me.

Trey smiled back as his hands finally left my sweater, allowing me to robotically walk out the kitchen. I stepped out the front door, toddled down the road to the neighborhood park.

That’s where I sat my butt in the grass with a giddy grin plastered on my face and squealed like the smitten fool I was.