Page 114 of Dear Future Husband


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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.