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The final straw was probably the fact that she and Larson had started to squabble over who dropped the ball on who, while Bear was snoring on the bean bag and Williams chipped in to support Maybelle, if only to piss Larson off more.
As Trey led her away Maybelle stuck her tongue out at Larson who flipped her off, a mocking grin on his tired face.
“Ok, you take the bed, I’m all set up on the ground.” Trey said as he shut his bedroom door behind them.
His room was simple, sleek. His bed was all black covers, pillows with a folded grey blanket at the end of the mattress. To the right side was a black dresser next to a door leading to his own personal bathroom. To the left was a closet door and a frame on the wall of what Maybelle guessed was his old jersey, probably from high school. Next to his bed a nightstand stood with a lamp and a small picture frame atop it.
Maybelle walked up picking up the picture to see it was the same one on her wall at home. The picture of her, Liam and Trey their graduation night.
“You’re welcome to change if you need, you can use the bathroom. I’m exhausted so I am going to pass out on my little spot but if you need anything I will be right here.” Trey informed as he made his way to the left side of the bed where a pillow and blanket sat on the floor.
Yeah, absolutely not.
Maybelle met him on the side of the bed, grabbing his arm, and stopping him from laying out on the makeshift sleeping spot, “Please, I will not be able to sleep tonight if you are on the ground while I’m in your bed.” She pushed him toward the mattress, but the man was immovable.
“What’s wrong? We do this at home.” He inquired, confusion in his tone. Maybelle tried to push harder but he didn’t even sway with her efforts.
She finally dropped her hands to her hips, looking up at him, “Are you really arguing with me on sleeping in the same bed with me right now?”
Trey’s eyes went wide for a split second until a smile finally overtook him and he lowered himself onto the cloud-like mattress.
“No ma’am.” He conceded, his hands lacing up Maybelle's hips, pulling her forward until she nestled in perfectly between his legs.
“Good.” She tried to sass but it came out all breathy.
Trey’s large hands splayed out against her sides flexing before he latched on, pulling her up and over himself with minimal effort, laying her out beside him on the bed.
Maybelle curled up in the soft comforter. She was on a comfy cloud, and she would never ever leave.
Maybelle and Trey laid on their sides facing one another in the dark, close enough to feel the other’s breaths, “I really like your friends.” Maybelle whispered.
Trey’s hand lifted, fingertips tracing her cheek before falling and finding a home intertwined in her fingers, “Good, they really like you too.”
It was late and her eyes were feeling so heavy, the feel of Trey’s hand in hers and the closeness of his body easily lulling her to sleep. As she drifted, she could have sworn Trey spoke to her and she might have answered but she was too far gone to recall those exchanged words.
Instead, she was dreaming, dreaming of running, sprinting in the sand, the salty air combing through her curls and the waves crashing with the beat of her heart.
Maybelle woke up early that morning, since she didn’t get to walk last night, she decided she would have to wake up at the butt crack of dawn to get in the exercise and to go unnoticed by Trey.
She was out the door, tennis shoes on with the sun only just turning the sky a pale blue, the air had a chill, and the hustle and bustle of the world was quiet, barely waking for the new day.
Maybelle walked nearby streets, across a couple local parks and through the apartment complex. It was the longest she had gone yet, and she was hardly winded.
This weekend just seemed to get better and better. Then a stupidly risky idea lit a light bulb above her head.
Annalise’s southern accent came in, to warn her against it, but she was already pushing the common sense away. Maybelle stood on a sidewalk, a parking lot away from Trey’s apartment. The walkway was flat enough, so she tried to run, tried to sprint— two steps in and she was eating concrete.
She ate shit so hard she had to shamelessly lie there on the sidewalk for a hot minute to collect her bearings even as cars drove by.
Fortunately, nothing was broken but damn, her elbow and already scuffed up knee were definitely going to look a little gnarly. She didn’t dare sneak a peek at her elbow due to the blood that smeared the sidewalk, instead she trembled to her feet and limped herself back to Trey’s apartment.
Maybelle ever so quietly slid the door open, snuck in and silently closed the door. She readied herself to turn and tiptoe back to Trey’s room, but a muffled laugh stopped her dead in her tracks.
“Morning, little Mason.”
Maybelle turned slowly to see Noah sitting at the kitchen counter eating a pop tart.
“Hi.” She greeted sheepishly.
