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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?”
“How long have you been dating Tripp Cooper?” he rephrases.
“Can we really call it dating? We’ve only been out in public once, and I feel like the term dating implies multiple outings, not just one.”
“How long have you been seeing him?”
Damn, he’s persistent. I knew two out and proud men on the same team would get attention, but jeez.
“Since I first looked at him. Just like I’ve been seeing you since the first time I looked at you. Recognition is pretty cool like that. Did you know there’s a condition where you don’t recognize people’s faces? I can never remember what it’s called—I don’t have it obviously—but I’ve always wondered about it."
I point to the next reporter since that one’s out of questions.
“Did you know Tripp was the son of Senator Charles Cooper when you met him?”
“Is that customary? I wasn’t aware that was something I should know about people I just met. I’ll probably need to make a list because I know a lot of people, and this could get confusing.”
She, too, sits with a harumph, and I point to the next.
“Bit of a rocky start this season, first the injury then the drama with Senator Cooper after the charity event, are you a distraction for this team?” He tilts his recorder so the microphone is pointed at me.
Ouch. That’s not the direction I thought this would go, but at least now we’re talking about hockey.
“Both of those things are in the past, so I don’t believe they’ll be a factor going forward.”
“Maybe not, but you’re also one of two openly gay men on the same roster, and that’s a unique scenario that might take the focus off the team.”
“I’m not overly concerned, seeing as the only people focusing on it are members of the press.”
“You don’t think two gay players on the same team is newsworthy?” he follows up.
“Statistically speaking, one in every eight men identifies as gay, which doesn’t include anyone identifying as bi or pan or demi, and there are twenty on this roster, so… If there are two gay men on the team, I’d say we’re right in line with the national average.” If there’s one thing travel gives me plenty of time for, it’s reading, and I may have brushed up on a few facts in preparation for the questions I knew would come my way.
“If there are two gay men?” He arches a skeptical brow.
I look to the players and coaches lining the wings of the room. “Did I miss an announcement that I’m gay? I don’t remember making a statement like that.”
