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“The rings on our fingers already say we’re crossing swords. We don’t need a literal picture of crossing swords on our arms.”
“Technically it’s crossing hockey sticks.” Tripp points to the blade as evidence while Jim tries to hide his laughter and ends up snorting instead.
“Did you know he was sneaking hidden meanings into the design?” I ask the man who helpedTripp get off the streets.
“It’s Tripp.” He shrugs as he gets more ink on the needle. “I sort of assume there’s always a double meaning to anything he does.”
“The guys are never gonna let me live this down.” My head thunks against the back of the chair as I try to remind myself that I asked him to marry me because I knew life would never be boring.
“We could’ve put them on our asses, like I first suggested,” Tripp unhelpfully says.
“Yeah, because when I’m old and decrepit I want the equivalent of a wrinkled raisin on my ass.”
“But they’d be matching wrinkled raisins.”
“I thought the whole point was to show that we’re together.” I sigh heavily.
“These do, and personally I think I nailed it. I mean, look at all the little Easter eggs in this design. Your hobbies, my hobbies, all bundled up in a little heart that screams gay pride to boot. Tell me that’s not poetic.”
“Still not gay,” I remind him.
“For me you are.” He bites his adorable bottom lip like the little brat he is, and my agitation fades instantly.
“Yeah, Tripp.” I smile affectionately. I stopped trying to figure out what label fit me best once I realized that didn’t change how I felt about him. Still, he’s never been more right. “For you I am.”
Chapter five
Noah
Tripp’s made no less than three sex jokes in the last thirty minutes, so he’s either really good at acting “ normal” or he doesn’t have a concussion.
Truthfully, I didn’t think he’d given himself a head injury, but it made for a good excuse to stick around. I only wish I knew why I had a minor panic at the thought of him leaving. It’s not like I’m unaccustomed to being alone, and Tripp’s company often leaves me with questions I don’t know how to answer. Yet, when he offered a room in his place… That felt like a lifeline.
Am I lonely enough that even Tripp’s lewd company seems appealing, or am I lonely for Tripp? Given that any one of my teammates could offer lewd company, I have to consider the possibility it’s the latter. I’m still not sure why that is: entertainment, curiosity, fascination. Maybe some combination of the three. I only know I like being around him. I prefer it to being alone, even if he tries to rile me with his shameless flirting.
Speaking of, he’s watching me expectantly, waiting for my reply. “Why are you so determined to show me your dick?” I ask him.
“That bothers you?” He arches a suggestive brow.
“No. I sort of expect it now. I just don’t know why you keep offering.”
“Because you’re so curious to see it.” He reclines into the couch and takes another sip of his beer like he didn’t just make an outlandish assumption.
Since he’s so nonchalant, I act the same. “What makes you say that?”
His eyes gleam as though I’ve walked right into his trap. I probably have. “First, I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. Spoiler alert, I’m always paying attention. And second, you don’t discourage my lame attempts to touch you. You totally play along.”
“I don’t ask you to touch me,” I say reflexively.
He casts me a sly grin. “You don’t stop me either. I mean, measuring your biceps? Asking whether you can flex your pecs independently of each other and telling you I need to feel it since I can’t see it? All excuses to put my hands on you, and you oblige every time.”
Huh, I guess I don’t discourage him. I’m not sure that makes me eager to see his dick, though truthfully, my own seems to wake up a little when he touches me. It hasn’t become hard, but it didn’t stay flaccid either.
I lift my gaze back to his, not realizing I dropped it. “I don’t mind humoring you.”
“You don’t, do you?” He smirks like we’ve just shared some private joke, though I’m not sure what it is. “Like I said, I’m always paying attention.”
“About that, what did you mean when you said you see how I look at you? How do I look at you?”
