Dex is sweating like when he does post-game interviews and they ask him something about scoring stats and he says, “We had a great game today. Great game. We worked as a team. And we’re a great team. And yeah. We had a great team game today.”
I can just see him blurting that all over Sid. I step up. “She was always wary of our friendship because we’re so close. Dex came to me saying Jessica thought he was in love with me.” That part is actually true. Whenever they’d fight, he’d turn up on my doorstep and say she yelled at him that we should just fuck and get it over with. She’d constantly joke that Dex loved me more than he loved her, but I could tell it was one of those jokes that held a lot of truth.
“Uh, yeah,” Dex says cautiously. “She encouraged me to follow my heart, and my heart led me to Tripp. I think he’s owned it from the beginning, but I was too dumb to see it. Maybe no one’s told you this, but I’m not exactly known for my smarts.”
Everyone in the room snickers except me because I know it hurts him when he feels the need to be self-deprecating like that.
“So it was a short engagement,” Sid says. “Uh, how long exactly?”
“We woke up one morning, and the idea came to me. We were married that afternoon.” Dex turns to me, pinning me with those big brown eyes. “And when we were standing at the altar, promising our lives to each other, it felt … easy. Because I want to be by Tripp’s side always. He truly is my other half. I think it goes to show you can fall in love with anyone if you’re not paying attention.”
My skin heats, and this moment feels too real.
“Then we got shitfaced and stumbled home,” Dex finishes, breaking the spell.
“Please don’t write that last part in the article,” Damon says.
Sid laughs. “I won’t.”
We’re left to change in the locker room even though we’re only putting our jerseys on and lacing our skates.
I’m thankful for the privacy, though, because I get to check in with Dex. “That wasn’t so bad.”
He shrugs and takes his shirt off, all the contours of his back muscles rippling as he does. “Most of it was true.” He throws his jersey over his head.
I break my gaze from his incredible body and wonder which parts exactly. “Like you practically adopting me as soon as I walked in this very room three years ago?”
He goes to say something but cuts himself off with a grin. “One good thing about it is we have been close for so long, it’s not too hard to talk you up.”
“Not too hard.” I hold my heart. “The romance is killlllling me.”
I finish lacing my skates and then take off my jacket and shirt to put on a jersey. When my head pops through the hole, I find Dex’s gaze trailing over me, but I don’t understand.
It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before.
“You all good?” I ask tentatively.
“Totally. Let’s get this over with. Ooh, do you want to go to D for dinner tonight? I feel like steak.” Somehow he says it without even making the joke about a big D steak like he usually does.
“We’ll have to ask if we’re allowed out of our cage yet, but if Graham says yes, then sure.”
“Do you reckon this is what Ezra feels like all the time? I mean, before Anton. He was always doing these types of photoshoots and getting in trouble by his team’s PR for being photographed with a million different people … I don’t even know if I’m allowed to go to the bathroom without permission.”
“It’s okay.” I try to reassure him. “We’ve done the hard part. Now we just have to take some photos. It’s no big deal.”
“But … affection and stuff.”
“They’re not going to ask us to do anything we haven’t already done. I’ve spooned you while I was naked before, for fuck’s sake. You’ve never cared before now.”
“What if they ask us to kiss?”
“Again. We’ve been there, done that, but I doubt they will. Kissing photos are tacky.”
“They are? Jessica always wanted us to be kissing in videos and photos and stuff.”
“Exhibit A,” I mumble.
“Huh?”
“Nothing. Let’s get out there.” I walk past him to head for the exit, but he grabs my arm and pulls me to him.
“I know I said I was okay with kissing you, and I am, but maybe we should get one out of the way. So we know for sure I won’t mess it up.”
“A-are you asking me to kiss you?” I stammer.
“I’m terrified everyone’s going to know this is all fake, and I’m freaking out here, and what if—”
Against my better judgment, I step forward and press my mouth to his.
I ignore the pang of heartache, the longing I’ve carried around for years, and try to show him I’m still the same Tripp.
I’m his best friend.
He’s my heart and soul.
And nothing will ever change that.
Not even his inability to love me back.
Thirteen
DEX
Unlike the first time, I’m prepared. And when Tripp’s mouth meets mine, the tingles that race through me are a welcome relief. I’d thought maybe our first kiss was a fluke, but nope. This is … uh, yeah, Tripp can kiss. I grip his biceps the way I’d pictured earlier and part my lips, waiting for him to do the same. It takes a moment, and then, when our tongues slide together—I suck in a breath I almost choke on.
I pull away, trying to get oxygen running back to my brain and, surprisingly, blood too, since it seems determined to head in the opposite direction.
“Right, well, I’m feeling better about things. Let’s go.” I can’t even look Tripp in the eye after that. He reads me too easily, and I don’t want him to see that I liked kissing him when I have no clue what’s going through my head. I’d never hear the end of it.
I kissed my husband, and I liked it, but to me, it was no different than when he holds me or I kiss his cheek or we stay up all night talking.
It makes me … full. Happy.
And, actually, kinda hard, so I guess that’s one new thing.
I lead the way out onto the ice, where we pose in our skates, with and without our sticks, together and solo. It’s no different from any of the other photoshoots we’ve ever done, and I’m able to relax into it, stop thinking, and act on instinct.
Even when Tripp and I are asked to horse around and act playful, that shit is easy too. Maybe Damon was onto something, and this whole marriage is a part I can nail. Other than hockey, there isn’t much in my life that comes effortlessly to me, but being Tripp’s husband might be one of them.
When the photographer pauses to check through the photos, I speed toward Tripp and pull into a sudden stop, sending shavings of ice at him.
“Oh, someone thinks they’re clever.”
“Race you to the other side and back?”
Instead of answering, Tripp takes off.