AllFreeNovel
Share Us
In just a couple strides Trey was crouched beside Clayton, shoving him onto his back. Trey gripped the boy’s facelike he was a difficult child that needed to be reprimanded. Trey spoke too softly for Maybelle to hear but by the look of wide-eyed terror on Clayton’s face she felt a twinge of satisfaction and relief.
Trey pushed Clayton’s head back to the ground before he stood and returned to Maybelle. He didn’t stop walking when he reached her, he grasped her hand and whisked her away. Trey led her away from the crowd, the eyes, the noise, from Clayton, all of it. He swept her far enough down the beach that the music and chatter faded into a dull rumble behind them.
7 You’re My End Game
Maybelle was so relieved to finally be away that she hardly noticed Trey was holding her hand, fingers intertwined.
Key word:Hardly, she noticed.
They didn’t speak at they trudged through the damp sand up the beach, but once they made it a significant distance, Trey halted and enveloped Maybelle into his large arms and against his chest. She should have been a little taken aback by Trey’s sudden show of physical affection, but she was too overcome with the solace and stability that flooded her as Trey’s grasp tightened around her to think too long on it. Instead, she impulsively wrapped her own arms around his middle and held him back.
Trey’s heavy breathing was the only sound Maybelle could hear besides the soothing sea as one of his hands held the back of her head, tangling with her curls and the other hand flattened in the middle of her back hauling her into him. He held to her almost desperately, like if he were to loosen his grip she would melt away.
Maybelle began to feel lightheaded when she registered that she had been holding her breath for who knew how long. She released a deep and tense sigh that almost transitioned into a sob, but she quickly choked it down.
“I am so sorry, May.” Trey whispered and she felt her own arms instinctively cinch tighter around him. Feeling likethere was a high probability that she would break down in uncontrollable sobs if she were to look him in the eye, Maybelle didn’t try to move or peer up at him, she remained nestled against his chest.
“What do you have to be sorry about?” She asked, because really, what did he have to be sorry about? Didn’t he just do all the rescuing like a damned knight in shining armor?
Trey laid his chin down onto the top of her head, “I encouraged you to come to this stupid party. I promise I only got here thirty minutes ago, I started looking for you as soon as I got here and of course Liam had no idea where you were.”Trey paused and heaved a deep, frustrated huff, “Last thing I wanted was for you to be alone, least of all be harassed by that scumbag Clayton.”
Maybelle could physically feel the intensity and anger seeping from his every word. Trey was upset, reallyreallyupset.Hoping she wasn’t about to unravel into a mess of tears and snot, Maybelle lifted her head from Trey’s chest and chanced a look at him. His jaw was clenched, in fact, his whole face was taut as he stared out towards the waves that crashed only feet away.
Maybelle didn’t think as she lifted a hand and placed it on his cheek. Her thumb swept back and forth like it could coax those beautiful dimples back to his cheeks.
“Trey, what is this?” Maybelle whispered. She didn’t know why she asked, especially right then, maybe part of it was to serve as a distraction from the Clayton situation she would no doubt need to call her therapist about to work through but also another weighty part of herneededto understand. She needed him to answer the questions, doubts and confusion she’d been contemplating all day. Trey either needed to set her straight, tell her it was all a façade, that he was only looking out for his best friend’s sister, and that she needed to get her head out ofthe clouds, or to say what a very minuscule but vital part of her hoped— that he cared for her.
Trey dragged himself away from the black of the ocean and focused his gaze on her, “What is what?”
Both of his hands were now at her hips, just under her sweater, holding to the fabric of her dress like at graduation when they readied themselves for the picture. He held to her so easily, naturally, like his hands belonged on her and nowhere else. Maybelle dropped her hand from his cheek and now held on to both of his sculpted arms just above the elbow, filled with the need to mirror his fervent grasps.
“This, Trey. Us. Before this morning, we hadn’t exchanged more than a few words in passing but now you flirt, you touch me, save me from assholes and hold onto me like it’s your job to?” Maybelle paused to study him, Trey only focused on her eyes, listening to every single word she said. She continued, “If this is a game for you, I’m not playing. I’m afraid my heart is too vulnerable when it comes to you for me to ever win.” Maybelle admitted and honestly surprised herself with her own candor. A flicker of self pride sparked to life in her heart which was a very rare feeling she couldn’t help but grapple onto to carry her through this moment.
Trey’s stare intensified, but his face softened at her confession. His hands that fisted in her dress tightened and tugged her closer, not that there really was a “closer” she was completely pressed into him. Any closer and they would be molded into each other, which did not sound like a bad thing to Maybelle.
One of his hands left her thin dress to grasp around the back of her neck with his thumb caressing her cheek. He tilted face down to her so his forehead could rest against hers and he whispered so softly, “This is not a game, May.”
Maybelle wanted to fall apart in this wonderful fever dream, there was no way that this was reality. The way Trey held her, the way his emerald gaze pierced her very soul, the way his lips parted, the way he smelled of spicy cinnamon, the way his head lowered to her, his breath minty sweet, and the way he was about to gift her, her first kiss, on a beach in the freaking moonlight.
This could not be real.
But it was real…
Because just as his breath mingled with hers, his other large hand now pulled and splayed across the small of her back and his lips briefly, barely, lightly met with hers Trey halted and went rigid.
“What the fuck?”Huh, weird how the voice in her head sounded just like Liam.
Trey finally spoke, filling the confused silence between them as he lifted his face from hers peering over her shoulder, “Liam.”
Maybelle then understood. She slowly turned from Trey to face her twin who had a bottle in one hand, the redhead his tongue was assaulting earlier under his other and absolute pain in his eyes, like a knife were in his back and the blade just kept twisting the longer he took in the scene before him. The girl looked to Maybelle apparently confused and extremely uncomfortable, which Maybelle could not blame her, this wasextremelyuncomfortable.
Panicked, Maybelle glanced to Trey, he stared toward Liam, like he was waiting for him to continue reacting. That’s when she noticed that he was holding to the back of her sweater, still keeping her close, keeping her safe.
Her panic ebbed with that discovery, and she let out a quiet, relieved sigh thankful that it was too dark for anyone to notice the blush that now invaded her cheeks.
“What the hell is going on here?” Liam bit out harshly.
Maybelle’s joints threatened to lock back up in response to his anger, but she internally reminded herself that this was Liam, Liam wouldn’t hurt her. Liam may be upset but he wouldneverhurt her.
