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“I don’t think so. They haven’t before that I’m aware of, but they’ve never suffered this level of embarrassment before either. Will you come home with us, Rose?” Tripp puts a gentle hand on her arm.
“I can’t leave.” She looks at him with teary eyes. “They took my green card after I helped you before. They’ll have me thrown out of the country.”
“They most certainly will not,” the judge booms. “It seems I’ve got something else to discuss with them this evening after all. Rose, go get your things while I deal with this. You can stay at my house until this is sorted out. You two.” He looks at me and Tripp. “The cat’s probably out of the bag, but you might be able to limit the damage if you leave now.”
“Damage?” I frown.
“I haven’t seen anything in the press, so I assume you wanted to keep this thing between you off the public’s radar.” He tips his head toward our joined hands.
“We wouldn’t be here together if we were trying to hide anything,” I tell him.
“We didn’t plan to put on a show either,” Tripp says, his wary gaze telling me he’s concerned about what the Bulldogs might have to say when this gets out.
“It’s settled then. You two take off and I’ll make sure Rose gets out safely,” the judge declares.
But Tripp doesn’t budge. “Rose, are you okay with that? I understand if you’re not. Even after I realized my parents were probably bluffing about what the judge would do if I went to him for help, I was afraid to trust him because he was friends with them. After tonight I know differently, but if you don’t want to go with him we’ll wait for you to get your things.”
She glances between the two men, finally relaxing a bit when her affectionate gaze settles on Tripp. “He’s right, you should go now. I’ll be okay, Mr. Tripp.”
My boyfriend, who’s still skittish about showing affection without the promise of sex, hugs Rose, and then the man who calls himself Tripp's uncle, which almost makes me tear up. If the one good thing that comes from tonight is Tripp learning that this guy has always been in his corner, and isn’t going anywhere, then this shitshow of an evening will have been worth it.
The judge pats Tripp on the back and lets him go. “Good to have you back, son. Now get out of here. And call me this week. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
His hand locked in mine, I lead Tripp out the front door and past the photographer who clicks away as we get into the car and drive off.
Chapter 22 – Tripp
“Damn, the press are fast. It hasn’t even been a full hour and the pictures are already up.” Niko holds his phone so we can see the snaps of Noah leading me hand-in-hand to the car, opening the door for me, and the four of us driving away.
Huddled in a back booth of a club all the Bulldogs have an exclusive membership to, we’re able to drink in peace. It’s not our preferred scene—to uppity—but tonight the rich dark atmosphere, and the discreet staff, is sort of a godsend. Even if people recognize us here, they won’t approach us or put us on the spot, and after the night I’ve had, I’m grateful for whatever privacy I can get. Not that I give two shits about my parents’ downfall or the role I ended up playing in it, I just don’t want to be drawn into it any further before the evening ends. There’s plenty of time for that later.
“Cute pictures, though,” Justus says offhand. Why he and Luca showed up, I’m still not sure. I suspect it’s because they were some of Niko’s biggest supporters when his personal life went public, so they must be playing the same role for Noah. “Noah looks very protective of you, Tripp.”
Not too long ago, that statement would’ve freaked me the fuck out—and in some ways it sill does. I’m new to this whole relying on and trusting other people thing, but as far as Noah’s concerned, I have to agree with Justus. It’s cute.
“Have they figured out who I am yet?” I ask Niko.
Niko scrolls down the page. “They’re going with Mystery Man.”
“Mystery Man?” I wrinkle my nose. “That makes it sound like I belong on Scooby Doo. It should be Man of Mystery.”
“You’ve got the wrong hair color for that, Freddy,” Luca snorts, and everyone at the table, including me, bursts into laughter.
“You’re funnier than you let on, hockey boy,” I tell him.
“Maybe you were just too preoccupied with getting in Noah’s pants to notice my sparkling personality.”
“True. I’m single-minded like that.” I’m not sure what brought it on, but after his initial concern over Noah and I playing show me yours and I’ll show you mine, Luca seems less skeptical tonight, which is cool. I just hope this isn’t an olive branch to keep using my man as his audience for his pregame mumbo jumbo. Before we were boyfriends, I didn’t care about that, but now my feelings are more complicated. We’ll probably need to talk about it before Noah goes back to traveling with the team.
“Will they even connect the dots?” Xander steers us back to the identity issue. “I mean, you’ve changed your name and your appearance, will they put it together?”
“You changed your name?” Justus asks.
“I always hated the name Preston. And yeah, since Tripp didn’t exist until ten years ago people will dig around to see who did. My name change record will come up.”
“Preston?” Luca snorts as he swirls the liquid in his tumbler. “I can see why you hated that. It doesn’t fit you at all.”
“Ten years ago… You were sixteen when they kicked you out?” Niko asks. “What’d you do?”
