Page 69 of Dear Future Husband: You're My End Game

She screamedNoin her head but thankfully had the self-control to give him a respectable head shake then walked herself over to the big, burly, bear of a man who flipped burgers like it was his calling in life.

“Hey Bear.” Maybelle greeted as she stood beside him.

Bear peered over to gift her a sweet, quiet grin, “Hey you. Enjoying the party?” He inquired after flipping another patty.

“Yeah, it’s been good. Uhm, do you know where Trey is?” If she were being honest, Maybelle wasn’t good, she was actually feeling extremely off-kilter, she needed her safe place, and she needed it now.

Bear turned pointing the spatula back over to a truck where Trey and a really pretty, curvy, brunette, cheerleader leaned next to him, her hand tracing his bicep.

Maybelle took a quick glance around herself to locate the nearest trash can because that was where she would be puking her guts up in the next five seconds.

Maybe this whole party, and friends thing wasn’t the best idea for her. The only thing keeping her from running all the way home to Chelsea now was the fact that one, she couldn’t even speed walk without tripping and breaking her teeth on the asphalt and two, she wouldn’t be so pathetic.

Maybelle fluffed her curls up and strutted right on up to where Trey and the other girl stood. Trey noticed her first, his smile a breath of fresh air that nearly sucked the wind from her determined sails, but she wouldn’t let it.

Maybelle parked herself on Trey’s opposite side of the girl, “Hey, handsome. Who is this?”

Trey’s smile faltered as he shot a fast glimpse to the tiny skirt girl whose boobs were hugging his muscled arm.

His mouth opened and closed for words, but the brunette beat him to it, “I’m Juliette.”

Ugh, her voice was squeaky, like nails on a chalk board. Maybelle put her hand out to Juliette and the cheerleader looked at it like it was a rotted fish.

Cute.

At a loss for what to do Maybelle shook her own hand, if only to keep herself from flipping theinsert nasty wordout.

Trey snickered and she all of a sudden wanted to flip out on him too. He must have noticed what was probably a really angry troll look she gave him because he laced his fingers with hers, squeezing her hand gently.

Juliette’s eyes followed the affectionate touch, “I’ll see you after the game, Trey.”

She got up on her tip toes her chest pressing fully into his shoulder as she whispered, “Score a touchdown for me.” And she was prancing off like a damned prized pony.

Maybelle needed a shower after that encounter, actually after all the encounters tonight, “Who is she?”

Did she sound totally stupid asking that? Absolutely.

Did she care? Not really.

Trey’s face quirked sideways with a teasing look, “Are you jealous, Mayhem?”

Oh honey, wrong time, wrong Mayhem.

“Nope.” She bit, pulling her hand from his and folding her arms across her front, “Not jealous, just confused.”

Trey’s brows furrowed, “Confused about what?”

Trey turned so only his shoulder leaned against the truck, facing her fully. It was an effort to stay focused with himall pretty in his jersey like this which just seemed to piss her off more.

“Don’t play dumb with me Turner, I’m not in the mood.”

Maybelle plastered her back against the truck, her focus forward with Trey in the corner of her peripheral.

“May, Juliette does not mean anything. I promise.”

When she didn’t respond Trey lifted from the side of the truck so he could stand in front of her. Maybelle turned her gaze toward her feet, but Trey caught her chin between his forefinger and thumb forcing her to meet his eyes, “Mayhem, love. I promise.”

Good golly gee…

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