And now it’s over.
He gets back from picking up some coffee and bagels, and just like last night when he climbed into bed with me, him bringing me breakfast feels too … domestic. The honey, I’m home that he calls out doesn’t help.
It’s like a real marriage. Minus the sex.
Although, from all the countless jokes there are about marriage meaning sex stops, maybe this is the real deal.
I drag my ass out of bed and sit at my kitchen counter. The coffee disappears down my throat almost as fast as the food, but it doesn’t make me feel less hungover and gross.
“Well, I did it,” Dex says.
“What, you want me to grovel at your feet for getting me breakfast?”
“I mean I got married. I did it. And it wasn’t a big deal.”
“Maybe it wasn’t a big deal because you knew it wasn’t real.” Of all the details I do remember from last night, one is hazy. “Fuck, where’s the certificate thing we signed?”
“Calm down. It’s in my jacket pocket.”
“Good. The last thing we’d want is for it to be lost in a random Vegas bar. Could you imagine if someone found it? The media would be all over us.”
“Yeah, that wouldn’t be a fun PR day.” Dex slowly sips his coffee, and I get the sense he wants to say something else.
And I don’t know if I’m ready to hear it. But I need to. “You going to call Jessica, then?”
“I … uh …”
Time to put on a brave face. “I know you hate that Jessica and I don’t like each other, but if you want to marry her, I’m not going to stand in your way.”
Dex slides over his phone. “I’m not going to marry her. She finally replied to my text.”
What do you think, genius? Why do you always need everything spelled out for you?
I grit my teeth. This is what makes me so angry when it comes to her.
“All I asked for was clarification.” He sounds so dejected.
I rub his shoulder. “I know.”
“Eh, it’s better this way anyway. Now I can spend all summer with you and not have to deal with her whining about you being my first priority.”
My stomach flip-flops, and I know what I should do—tell him I’m busy. Tell him I need some time away from him for a while. But what kind of asshole would do that to him when his girlfriend has just broken up with him? “Want to come on the Collective vacation to Lake Tahoe?”
His face lights up. “Can I?”
“I mean, I’ll have to ask the guys, but I’m sure they’ll be okay with it.” And they will be. Right after they call me an idiot and mention again how I won’t get over Dex if I don’t put some distance between us. But I know what I’m doing.
I’m going to get over him by not getting over him.
It’s completely logical and makes total sense.
“Who’s going on the trip?” Dex asks.
“It’s only Ezra, Anton, and Oskar this year. The others couldn’t make it, so there’s plenty of room.”
“Please take me away from all the shitty breakup thoughts. Please, please, please, please, please.”
“I’ll make a call.”
Five
DEX
Two weeks with the boys.
This is exactly what I need after a long season that ended in a spectacularly disappointing way. I know Ezra a lot better than Anton and Oskar, but they’ve always been cool, and with Tripp here, I wouldn’t give a shit if they were all strangers. We always manage to have a fun time wherever we are.
We drive down a long dirt driveway surrounded by thick tree coverage, and I’m hanging out the window, breathing in the smell of nature, which isn’t something we have a whole lot of in Las Vegas.
After another deep lungful, I drop back into my seat.
“Did you bring a leash for your dog, Tripp?” Ezra snarks from the passenger’s seat.
I ignore it. It’s not my fault it feels good to have the air on my face.
Tripp’s in the middle seat between me and Oskar, and I pat his thigh in my excitement.
“This is going to be great.”
The others don’t match my enthusiasm.
In fact, ever since I shoved my bag in the trunk, there’s been a vibe hanging over the group that I can’t put my finger on.
Like now. Tripp and Oskar exchange a weird look, and when I glance up front, Anton is watching me in the rearview mirror. Which wouldn’t be an issue if he wasn’t meant to be concentrating on, you know, the road.
“Ah. Tough crowd,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.
Ezra laughs, at least. “We can’t all be an overexcitable puppy like you. We’re pacing our excitement to last the full two weeks.”
“Maybe you need better stamina, big guy.”
Tripp snorts, and we trade amused looks. It goes a long way to settle the feelings of not being wanted here. Clearly, I’m being paranoid.
Anton slows as we reach the cabin and pulls into a covered parking bay. The place is huge. All stone and wood. Single story but taking up most of the clearing. In front of the house is a large fire pit area and then a fuckton of water between us and the distant mountains.
Anton whistles. “Welcome to Lake Tahoe.”
We climb out and stretch. It was about forty-five minutes from Reno airport to here, but Tripp, Oskar, and I aren’t exactly small, and even the back seat of a Jeep Grand Cherokee has its limits.
“Anton and I call the main bedroom,” Ezra says, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder.
“Why do you guys get to claim that?”
“Because, Plus-One, we’ll need the en suite for quick cleanup.”
I scowl at the nickname. I know they’re only joking, but I can’t shake the feeling I’m intruding. Ezra and Anton are being more or less the same, but Oskar has barely acknowledged me at all. He gives me this long look before turning to Tripp. He has the same sort of piercing blue eyes as Ezra, but where Ezra’s eyes always seem like they’re laughing, Oskar’s feel like they’re looking for trouble. His full-body tats add to that impression. His left arm is the only thing bare of ink.
“Come on.” Tripp hands me my bag. “Let’s go pick our rooms.”
The stone-and-wood theme continues inside to a living area with a massive fireplace, a timber kitchen, and hardwood floors.
Anton and Ezra take the first bedroom, Oskar ducks into the second, and I follow Tripp down to the third. He walks inside and does a double take when I follow.
“What are you doing?”
I dump my bag on the bed. “What do you mean?”
“Dude, there are five bedrooms. Get your own.”
I blink at him. “We’re not sharing?”
Tripp looks like he doesn’t know what to say. “Are you kidding?”
“I thought … Ezra and Anton are.”