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“Where were you coming from?” he whispers.
“I think you know.” I hold his gaze, praying I haven’t spooked him with that implication.
Tripp inhales deeply, holding his breath for what feels like an eternity. Then he leans forward to brush his lips over mine. “I love you.”
Now it’s my turn to suck in a startled breath, though I recover much faster since I’ve been ready to say this for weeks, and was just waiting for him to catch up. Cupping his face in my hands, I lean my forehead against his. “I love you, too.”
Tripp’s body visibly relaxes just before his lips meet mine in a tender kiss. Then the spike of adrenaline from admitting his feelings catches up with him and he starts rambling. “That’s really cool of Luca to let you off the hook because of me. Seriously though, where’d that ritual even come from? I know people do lots of weird shit in the name of good luck or whatever, but that’s got to be the weirdest superstition I’ve ever heard.”
“I always figured Luca would tell me if he felt like it, and he never did, so your guess is as good as mine. I’m just glad he found a way to make the arrangement he has for home games work for the away ones too. At least I assume that’s what he did since he’s been playing well these last few games.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t suggest I watch, too.” Tripp snorts.
“He did.” I stroke his stubbled cheek with my thumb. “I ruled it out because the only person I want to share that kind of intimacy with is you.”
Tripp gives me a relieved smile and leans forward like he’s going to kiss me before pulling back abruptly. “Wait. If you told him to figure something else out a few weeks ago then you told that dick how you felt about me before telling me?”
“I thought you liked Luca?”
“I called him a dick, right?”
“And you like dicks,” I finish for him.
“Exactly. I still don’t want him seeing yours, though. I also don’t like that he knows stuff about you I don’t.” Tripp crosses his arms in front of his chest and puffs out his bottom lip.
“And you’re not possessive?” I fight back a smile.
“Nope.” He shakes his head firmly back and forth.
“Brat.”
“That’s been well established. And you love it.”
I lean forward until our lips are just barely touching. “I really do.”
Tripp’s lips meet mine for the sweetest, most perfect kiss. And then he squeals when I scoop him into my arms.
“Um…lover. If you want to carry me, I recommend tossing me over your shoulder. It’s more dignified than treating me like a damsel.”
“Lover?”
“We said the ‘L’ word. Besides, it’ll make Xander gag, so it can’t be all bad.”
“I’m gonna ignore the fact you brought up someone else’s name while I’m carrying you to bed and say I’m more comfortable with boyfriends. But I still love you.”
He flashes a bashful smile, which is a new look for him, but might just be my favorite. “I love you, too.”
I will never get tired of hearing that.
***
“How long have you been dating Preston Cooper?” The reporter asks when I point to him.
“I don’t know a Preston Cooper.” Honestly the question doesn’t bother me—I expected it since Tripp’s identity was finally unearthed yesterday—I just want to poke a little fun at the press for asking me about my boyfriend before they bring up the first game I’ve played in six weeks. And since my boyfriend is a brat, I have a pretty good idea how to make my point.
“Preston… Changed his name to Tripp ten years ago,” the guy prompts.
“Why didn’t you say Tripp then? I mean, I assume if someone changes their name, they’d like to be known by the new one instead of the old one. Isn’t that reporter 101? Getting the facts straight?”
