I pull my arm from his grip. “Nope, we’re good to go.”
Tripp lets out a noise of frustration, but it’s too late. The door opens, we follow Graham into the room, and Coach Roland leads us up onto the media platform.
I take the first seat, but as Tripp passes, he leans down to whisper in my ear.
“If you think this is easy for me, you’re wrong. I’ve wanted you since we first met.”
Then he straightens and takes the chair on the other side of Coach, while I’m left there, shocked into silence.
Because he fucking what?
No matter how desperately I want everything to stop for a minute so I can process the influx of information that’s being thrown at me from all sides, the press conference starts anyway.
I’m vaguely aware of Coach kicking things off by talking through the article, saying how he runs a tight team and wants to keep the drama low. He says Tripp and I deserve the opportunity to tell people what really happened.
The paper in front of me is all about how heartbroken I was over Jessica, but I don’t think I’ve ever been heartbroken until this moment. I’m supposed to say I turned to him for comfort, the wedding was to help my pain, and then we tried to make it work, which I’d at least thought was half-true, but apparently that was only from my side.
And when Coach’s hand lands on my shoulder and I realize it’s my time to talk … I can’t. The words are all there in front of me, but all I can do is stare. The brain fuzz is kicking in.
There’s a second of silence, when Tripp quickly jumps in. “The thing is, our marriage was fast. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision that needed more thought. Dex had broken up with his girlfriend, and he’d made a joke about the only relationship that has worked for him was our friendship and that he should just marry me.” Tripp glances my way. “We’ve been best friends for three years, and after this, we’ll continue to be inseparable. We’ve tried really hard to make this work, but—”
I know what’s coming, and suddenly I can’t hear it. “But this is all bullshit.” My mouth is moving before I even realize what I’ve said.
A ripple goes through the waiting press, and Coach hurries to cover my microphone. “What are you doing?”
“Please let me do this.” The brain fuzz is gone, and I’m thinking clearer than I ever have in my life.
Coach removes his hand.
I take a deep breath. “Tripp’s right. It started out as a joke. We didn’t even think the marriage would be legal. That might seem like we were making a joke out of marriage, but it wasn’t out of disrespect. It came from a place of hurt, and friendship, and it felt right.”
“Dex, I think we should—” Coach starts.
I cut him off. “I never cheated. I’ve always been scared of commitment and weddings, which is why Jessica and I broke up. It had nothing to do with Tripp. But because he’s the greatest best friend in the history of ever, he agreed to my stupid idea of having a practice marriage so I’d know commitment wasn’t so bad. Truthfully … the only reason I could go through with it was because it’s him.” I tuck my trembling hands under the table. “I’ve spent the last few months married to my best friend, and it might have happened fast, but I’ve never experienced something so real. My stress this season wasn’t about being married; it was about starting the rest of my life on a lie.” I finally force myself to look at Tripp. His face is closed off, but I make myself get the words out. “I’m dumb a lot of the time, but the best dumb decision I ever made was marrying you. Because now I know why I could spend forever with you, and only you. I know we’re supposed to stand up here and announce some bogus divorce, but I don’t want that. I want us.” My voice breaks. “Always. Forever. Because I am so fucking in love with you, I don’t know myself without you.”
“Swearing, Dex,” Coach mutters.
Tripp stares at me with the cutest stunned look on his face.
Cameras go off.
Questions get yelled across the room.
Then my husband clears his throat and suddenly breaks eye contact and leans toward his mic to say, “This press conference is over.”
I watch as he shoves out of his seat, then crosses to me and pulls me up with him. His hand closes over mine, and he doesn’t stop walking until we’re out into the hall, where he pushes me into the wall and kisses me.
I grunt into his mouth as my eyes fall closed and I ball my fists in his shirt. I cling to him so tight, I swear I’ll never let him go again, and while he hasn’t said the words, he doesn’t need to. This kiss is everything. I can’t believe how close I was to losing this.
“I want to keep you,” I say between kisses.
“Did you mean it?” Tripp asks. “Or was it another lie to try to keep us both here?”
“That I’m in love with you? One hundred percent.”
Tripp’s eyes flutter closed. “You have no idea how long I’ve craved to hear you say that.”
“I tell you I love you all the time.”
“Yeah, that you love me like a brother.”
“After all the orgasms we’ve given each other, I hope it’s not brotherly.”
Tripp shoves me. “I mean it. I never …” He shakes his head and looks down at the ground. “I’ve been in love with you since the day I moved to Vegas.”
“You have?”
“Why do you think the Collective guys always run interference when we’re together? Why do you think Oskar lied and said he was my boyfriend? They’ve been trying to protect my feelings for years because I’ve been hopelessly and pathetically in love with you from the beginning.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “You never said anything.”
“I knew it would change things between us, and I would have rather had your friendship and suffered a little pining than not have you at all.”
“I wish …” I wish I knew what to say to that. “I wish I’d known sooner. Maybe I would have woken up and realized how I really felt. Because I don’t think this is a new thing.”
Tripp hangs his head. “I didn’t think it was a possibility. I’ve played that scenario over in my head a million times, and in each one, it ruined our friendship.” He lets out a laugh. “The funniest part is probably that Anton knew before either of us.”
“He what?”
“When we were away, he said that given the right circumstances, you could realize you’re in love with me too. I didn’t believe him, but—”
“He was right. He was so right. When you suggested getting a divorce, you ripped my heart out.”
“I didn’t mean to do that, but to me, outside of the legal crap, marriage is only a word. We could still get divorced, and I wouldn’t care, so long as I have you in my life.”
“Well, what I just did might have gotten one of us traded.”
“If we—the two biggest commitment-phobes in the league—can make a marriage work, we can get through anything.”