Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 83109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Thank fuck for getting married, huh? Otherwise this might never have happened.” Because I was too stupid to see what was right in front of me. I slap his ass. “ATV time.”
“What?”
I move to rinse my dishes from breakfast. “We only have a few days left until training camp; we need to make the most of them.”
“And the hiking, golf, poker tournament, and gondola boat ride weren’t enough?”
“Did you miss the part where I said ATVs?”
“My mistake.” Tripp plucks at his sleep shorts. “I guess I better shower … again.”
“Race you.”
We fight the whole way there, and then, under the steam, Tripp gets on his knees for me this time.
It’s official. I’m putting in a petition for every day to start this way.
“I feel like a tourist,” Tripp says after we’re dressed and heading out the door.
“You said you’ve never done any of these things since moving here.”
“I moved across the road from the golf course for a reason. I’d planned to spend my entire off-season there.”
“And we have. And I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but there’s more to Las Vegas than a golf course and hockey arena.” I pretend to gasp.
“There is? You mean golf courses and hockey arenas aren’t the reason people come to Las Vegas? But what else could there possibly be?”
I palm his face. “Okay, smartass. I guess the casinos are there too. My point is no husband of mine will be walking around having not taken an ATV out into the desert one time.” Husband still doesn’t feel like the right word for what we are, but I guess it’s the most accurate. It’s what we are, but it reminds me of the joke that started this and how, as much as I’m fine being married to Tripp forever, the choice wasn’t fully ours. If we went back and knew the whole thing was legit, I doubt either of us would have gone there.
This way, we have a get-out-of-jail-free card in a year, but I’m determined for us never to use it. I’m going to be the best … husband? Boyfriend? Partner? Tripp has ever had.
And as we get to the place to rent out ATVs, I remind myself it doesn’t matter. He’s my Tripp. I don’t need another word for it.
We spend the day tearing around the desert tracks, racing and competing on who can get the most air over the jumps. Coach will kill us if either of us gets injured, but that doesn’t hold me back. If I’d known this is what married life could be like, I would have been on board a whole lot sooner.
Except I suspect this would never be possible with anyone but Tripp.
Sleepy mornings, and constant orgasms, and ATV racing in the desert.
Somehow, I’ve hit the jackpot.
I’m so glad this is real.
Twenty
TRIPP
I wish this could be real. I mean, sure, having a best friend is great, but have you ever had a husband? I thought marriage was supposed to be all fighting and no sex. Dex and I are still us but with orgasms. And, like, mutual orgasms, not just lonely, pining, jerking off by myself orgasms.
But our days of doing an interview here, blowjobs there, public appearances where we amp up the love angle followed by handjobs at home are all coming to a close this morning. Because it’s the beginning of training camp, and we have to meet the team at the practice arena at ten.
Every fall after the summer break reminds me of going back to school.
Usually, some guys from the team will get together during the off-season, but because we had a shorter break this time, there were no big gatherings or events to attend.
Either that or Dex and I weren’t invited.
We get along with everyone on the team fine, but we’ve always been in our own little bubble.
I’m nervous about what the guys will say about the wedding and how we’re supposed to play this for the team.
Dex said we should lean into the marriage, which turns out didn’t need a whole lot of leaning—we’ve fallen into a pattern naturally. It’s like we’re an actual couple, even though in a year we’ll be signing those divorce papers. So maybe we should just … run with it.
My only concern with that is getting too attached to the idea that I’m Dex Mitchale’s husband and we’re actually together.
I don’t want that disappointment when our time is up.
Dex’s alarm blares. I’ve been awake for a couple of hours, enjoying Dex’s warmth and dreading wake-up time. First day of training camp is usually exciting, and I can’t sleep because I’m like a kid on Christmas, but this year, I can’t sleep for a whole slew of other reasons.
Like facing the team, the press, the public. We’ve only had a taste of what’s to come.