Dear Future Husband: You’re My End Game, page 1
Speechless by Dan + Shay
Dancing in the kitchen by LANY
Perfect by Ed Sheeran
When I Grow Up by The Pussycat Dolls
Happiest Girl Stephen Dawes
T.N.T by AC/DC
Golden Hour by JVKE
Livin’ On a Prayer by Bon Jovi
Stay With Me by Sam Smith
Stereo Hearts by Gym Class Heroes, Adam Levine
When I was Your Man by Bruno Mars
All of Me by John Legend
A Little Too Much by Shawn Mendes
Copyright ©️ 2024 by Taryn Moser
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems— except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. The author is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.
DEDICATION
To my husband,
Thank you for keeping me company during the loneliest years of my life, for giving me a voice and being a listening ear even when you didn’t know it.
And to Ashlee,
Thank you for being a friend I could share my creative soul with.
Table of Contents
1 Mayhem
2 Slime and Snake Scales
3 Tone Deaf and Dancing
4 I Love You Mom
5 Invisible to Non-existent
6 Mighty Dandy Right Hooks
7 You’re My End Game
8 Trey Turner
9 Dear Future Husband
10 You Are Not Alone
11 His Mayhem
12 Cousin or Freakishly Young Uncle?
13 Blunt, Assertive
14 Mayhem 2.0
15 I am Not Obsessed with You
16 Your Mom Saved My Life
17 Bruises and Toppled Bookshelves
18 Please Don’t Run From Me, Mayhem
19 Check Mate
20 Gulps and MILFs
21 That Book Belongs to Me
22 The Plot Thickens
23 Little Mason
24 Wrong Time, Wrong Mayhem
25 Game On
26 Big News
27 Moving Day
28 Magnet, Heart, Chaos
29 Why Him?
3o Pretend
31 Team Turner
32 Hearsay and Breakups
33 Beard Braiding and Heartbreak
34 The Ambush
35 Unforgettable
36 I Want to Live
37 Marry Me
38 Did He Touch You?
39 Pizza and Make Outs
40 I Promised Liam
41 Mom, Goals, Promises
42 Can I Hold You?
43 Dear Maybelle
44 Free Tacos for Life
45 Forever Races
EPILOGUE
Author’s Note
ACKNOWLEDGMENTs
I would like to be the first to acknowledge that I am not a grammar or spelling genius. So, to all my grammar freaks, send your complaints to my email. No, I will not be including my email.
Thank you to all the friends and family I shared this secret project with that kept it close to their hearts and cheered me on every step of the way.
Thank you to my mom who was my real life, Stephanie Mason; always putting her kids first, receiving an amazing education and being a support that has held everyone up when they wanted to fall apart.
Thank you to my dad who gave me a love for writing and expressing myself and dreams through words. Thank you to my brothers who are the embodiment of Liam. They’re little brats I can’t help but strive to be more like every day.
Thank you to my husband for being my biggest fan through the whole process. I owe my success to him. I would have given up on myself a long time ago, but he never did.
I love you, Brendan.
1 Mayhem
The sand beneath her bare feet threatened to rub her skin raw but Maybelle didn’t let up her efforts, she relished in the feeling. She was racing, flying down the beach bathed in morning light. The salty, sea air was a welcome aroma to her senses and a delight as it combed through her curls of honeycomb gold, whipping and tangling as she pressed forward. Her breathing was labored but she would do it, she would fly.
Legs pumping faster, muscles straining tighter, arms swinging and sweat dripping; she was going to do it.
“Maybelle!”
She couldn’t turn back now, no, she was so close.
“Maybelle!”
No no no.
Maybelle finally spun to answer the call only to find she was, in fact, alone and not on a beautiful, sandy beach. She was in the confines of her small bed, being choked to death by her comforter and sheets.
“Maybelle, if you are not down here and ready to go in the next five minutes, I am leaving your ass to walk to school!”
That voice, she knew that voice. Maybelle detangled herself from her bed sheets, rubbing a hand over her sleep riddled eyes to get a better view of the pink alarm clock that sat at attention on her bedside table. The damn thing was off and by the frantic shouts and threats of her brother, Maybelle had slept far passed her alarm and was late.
Of course.
“Sounds good.” Maybelle drawled back groggily as she accepted defeat and buried herself back under her bed covers.
Today ominously marked the last official Monday and week of their high school careers. With all this momentous hype brings a week of excuses for all the most popular kids to shine and for the rest of the commoners, Maybelle included, to bask in their amazingness. Hence, Maybelle’s extreme lack of enthusiasm to leap from her bed and into the day.
First off on the agenda of this week’s significant events was the big senior rally, which was today’s spectacle. The rally was only to serve as an opening, a prologue to set up the events of the week. There, they would be announcing the agenda for the rest of the graduation week, play a few cheesy games, and inform the students of the where, and when of the infamous Senior Last Dance.
It was a whole ordeal that Liam, Maybelle’s twin brother, Mr. “Hot Shot”, popular, superstud, extraordinaire of the school, was in charge of and currently the one threatening Maybelle with the shame of having to be pathetic enough to walk the five miles to school alone.
Liam… oh, amazing, remarkable Liam. The guy was quite the specimen of a human being, well, if you could consider him human, he was far too great to be lowered to such a characterization.
For the last two years of high school Liam was named captain of the team, and star quarterback with no one to endanger his right to rule because he was just that good. And to top off his fantastical high school football career was the fact that, Mr. “Hot Shot”, also had the role of student body president to include on that shiny, loaded high school resume. As student body president, Liam obviously had to give a crap about being on time for the rally, and thus, making him rush to get out the door and more inclined to follow through with his original threat of making Maybelle ‘walk her ass to school’.
Jerk.
It may have taken every drop of Maybelle’s diminishing motivation to pour herself out of bed, miraculously pick up a pair of jeans from her bedroom floor, shimmy them up her unshaven legs, and then slip on her favorite, fitted, cotton, grey shirt she might have already worn that week, but she did it. To conclude her not very, in-depth ‘get-ready’ routine, Maybelle tied her long, blonde, ringlet curls into a ratty knot on the top of her head.
“T-minus two freaking minutes, May!” Liam shouted from what Maybelle guessed was the kitchen, which meant he was on the move and nearing the exit, her abandonment and impending long walk to the school.
She didn’t bother trying to answer her brother while she briskly brushed her teeth, spat the toothpaste into the sink, rinsed her mouth, mechanically swiped on some deodorant, threw on a pair of strappy sandals while simultaneously tripping and stumbling out the door, behind Liam, with about thirty seconds of his patience to spare.
Maybelle stepped up to their tiny family car the twins shared with their mom that sat parked in the short driveway.
“Hey May, we aren’t taking the car today. Mom needs it to get to work.” Liam absently stated as he swung his backpack over a shoulder and adjusted his football jersey, so it laid straight on his bulky shoulders.
“What? Okay, well, did you order an Uber or were you planning on walking your prissy ass to school with me?” Maybelle snarked, bending over to fix the strap of her sandal that had meandered off the back of her heel in her rush out of the house.
“Nah, no Uber and no walking. My buddy Trey is on his way to pick us up.”
Maybelle paused, mid-rise; palms suddenly sweaty in the sixty-degree, shady, morning breeze and the oxygen in the air impossible to breathe in. Her mind warred with wanting to be frustrated that she had been hustled this morning even though their ride hadn’t even arrived yet, but she was too preoccupied with the nerves that were now tightening and expanding in her chest.
Trey Turner.
Star running back on the football team, the se
While Liam was the star quarterback of the team, Trey was first string running back and, of course, best in the state of California. Both boys shared the responsibility of being co-captains of the team and while Liam ran and won for student body president, Trey was his loyal and devoted vice president. Those two owned the school, everyone knew it and loved them for it. Now, Trey and Liam would continue their rule together in college since they both just signed to play for the UCLA Bruins starting in the fall.
Except, Maybelle didn’t just know Trey Turner for being her brother’s best friend, partner in crime and every straight girls’ romantasy. She knew him for the way her heart would nearly combust in his general vicinity, the way her palms drenched with perspiration at the mere mention of his name, and the way breathing became unbearable at the sight of him.
The honk of a black, topless Jeep flying up the road alerted the twins that their chariot had arrived and warned Maybelle to get a freaking hold over herself.
The vehicle pulled to a stop before them and the front doors missing from the hinges gave Maybelle an undisturbed view of Trey dressed in black pants, proudly wearing his football jersey. The scene was enough to over boil Maybelle’s limbs and joints into actual wet, soggy noodles.
“Hey, Triple Threat! Thanks again for the ride, I owe you one.” Liam hollered over the stereo music that risked bursting eardrums while he slid easily into the front passenger seat.
“Anytime bro, but you do owe me one.” Trey beamed mischievously and perfectly as he turned the volume of the speakers down enough for Maybelle to better hear the roaring of nervous energy in her head. Neither acknowledged Maybelle as she quietly, not so gracefully climbed into the back seat of the driver’s side and buckled her seat belt.
“Oh, anything my guy, name it!” Liam offered while the Jeep lurched forward, and they made their way to Harbor High.
Now Maybelle knew her brother was a decently good-looking kid. He had tight blonde curls like Maybelle that bounced about in the wind, a tanned muscular physique from football and long days of surfing in the sun, with crystal blue eyes and a strong white smile. But while her brother may be handsome and have the ability to smolder his way into any girls’ pants, Trey Turner was drop dead gorgeous. Maybe she was biased since the idea of admitting that her brother might be good looking made her feel gross inside, there was no exaggeration in saying that Trey Turner was a seriously blessed young man.
As the Jeep hurried down the road, the wind tousled Trey’s light caramel brown hair, knocking soft waves into his absolutely breath-taking, forest, green eyes that were framed by dark, long lashes that any girl would sell her soul for. He had this perfect, white smile that came with a strong side of lady-slaying dimples and naturally, sun-bronzed skin that just made everything about him that much more unbearably attractive. This boy wouldn’t be able to even begin trying to understand the horrors of an ugly, awkward, teen phase.
Good glory. It honestly took every bit of Maybelle’s willpower, her very limited amount of “coolness” and self-respect not to blatantly drool at the rear-view mirror that gifted her with an amazing view of those immaculate green eyes. That is, until…
“I need you to set me up with Tracey Carter, that cute cheerleader you said was in your physics class.”
Maybelle suddenly found the black screen of her powered off phone very mesmerizing; no longer as tempted to stare at the “pretty boy” eyes in the easily accessible rear-view mirror.
“Trey, no.” Liam rejected bluntly shaking his head of short, honeycomb curls. Absolute betrayal etched itself into the lines of Trey’s usually unblemished face.
“And why the hell not?” Trey demanded, his focus not entirely on the rode before them which had Maybelle tugging on the strap across her chest, double-checking to make sure her seat belt was still doing its very vital job.
Liam’s jersey twisted with him as he faced his best friend, “Bro, Trey and Tracey for one, sounds stupid together. And two, I hit that over the weekend. You’d be getting my sloppy seconds.”
Betrayal molded into something akin to disappointment and faint amusement as Trey’s lips fell into a tight line, “Damn, of course you did.”
Liam chuckled, slapping his large, football-throwing hand on Trey’s muscled shoulder, “What about that one girl that was doing our homework this last semester? Alyssa something?”
Trey side-eyed him, “You mean Olivia?”
Liam, the sweet, sweet boy, seemed to be using a lot of brain power before he finally responded, “Oh yes, Olivia. Why don’t you hit her up? Bet you’d be making all her high school fantasies come true.”
Trey only scoffed, while Maybelle had to swallow down the bile burning the back of her throat.
“Hey May, are you doing alright back there?” Liam called back to Maybelle who had her head smashed into the back of Trey’s seat wondering just how fatal it would be to throw herself out of a moving vehicle but not at all doubting whether or not it would be worth it.
“Oh hey, Maybelle, I didn’t even see you get in the car!” Trey cheerfully greeted like his acknowledgement of her existence wasn’t the prettiest, scariest thing she’d ever heard.
Maybelle responded to both boys by keeping her face smushed against the back of the seat, refusing to allow them to witness just how scarlet, red her skin burned from the mere mention of her name on Trey Turner’s tongue and lifted one arm with a meager “thumbs up” while she considered if it would be more effective to throw herself out the back window or to leap out the open car roof. Both options sounded worthy of the moment.
The boys accepted this response and continued discussing which of them “scored” the best this year with the girls, how much better college women will be, and a lot of other stuff that Maybelle had to disassociate from in order to preserve her innocence and the dwindling respect she had left for her twin.
Thankfully, it wasn’t too long until they pulled into the student parking lot. The band was outside blasting the school anthem, an archway of balloons crowned the gymnasium double doors, and all the seniors were filtering through, cheering like their nearly finished race to adulthood wasn’t daunting as hell.
Trey blasted his radio speakers as he sped into his assigned parking spot, a signal to all the students loitering in the lot that The Kings had officially arrived.
Maybelle wanted nothing to do with the approaching crowd of teens so in an effort to escape the car and the general area before they could be surrounded, she moved quickly to grab her bag and launched herself at the door handle.
Except, as she leapt for the door it simultaneously flung open. Before she knew it or could save herself from the catastrophe, Maybelle went barreling out of the lifted Jeep, free-falling to the asphalt, but instead of breaking her face on the street Maybelle was caught up in the strong, glorious arms of Trey Turner.
The raging curse storm of horrid language that threatened to spew from her mouth was just ridiculous as she tried desperately to recover her balance while pressed against the massive chest of Trey freaking Turner.
Maybelle frantically, pathetically spun back to the car to see that her balance was offset by her stupid, left foot that was somehow still stuck up in Trey’s Jeep between the bottom sill and chair. Maybelle slowly turned back to face him thinking about how she often forgot how tall Trey was until she randomly found herself in his arms which… this would be a first.
Her hands held a handful of his jersey on both sides of his slim lower back while her face was level with his built chest. Maybelle’s skin was on fire. She knew every bit of her face scorched deep red as she timidly looked up at him through her lashes.
“My—my foot… It’s stuck.” She murmured. Her biceps flexed under Trey’s grip as he steadied her and peered over her shoulder to see that her foot was, indeed, stuck.
How? Why? What all powerful being had it out for her today to put her in such a humiliating predicament? Trey returned his gaze back to her looking a little surprised, maybe, but the fleeting look was quickly replaced with an easy smile accompanied by two irresistible dimples.
