Irresponsible Puckboy (Puckboys #2)(77)

“If you’re done teasing us now …” I take Tripp’s hand and pull him away from Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dick.

“Where are we going?”

“Dancing.”

“Ooh, dangerous. Remember what happened last time?”

I tilt a grin back at him as I pull him along. “Bold of you to assume that isn’t my plan.”

“You’re turning into Oskar. Am I going to have to get you help for this public sex obsession?”

When we get far enough onto the dance floor, I pull him against me. His hard body molds to mine, like we were made for each other.

And every day we spend together makes it harder to believe we weren’t.

“No public sex obsession,” I say by his ear. “Just a standard, run-of-the-mill Tripp obsession.”

Tripp pulls back and rests his forehead against mine. His crooked smile is in place, doing weird things deep in my gut, and even though our hockey playing has seen better days and is a constant source of annoyance, I’ve never seen him so happy. It’s all there, in his big eyes, in the way he looks at me, so much happiness radiating from him that he could light up a whole damn hockey stadium.

My throat clogs with emotion as I realize I almost missed this.

That we might have made it our whole lives totally in love but not together. I shudder even imagining that future.

Thank fuck for being a dumbass.

Thank fuck for my harebrained idea and Tripp reluctantly going along with my plans.

I frown at that thought. It was reluctant. And even though neither of us regrets what happened, I maybe regret one thing.

I duck my lips to his ear and utter the two words I should have said to begin with. “Marry me?”

Tripp jerks back, obviously trying not to laugh. “Ah … are you having an episode? Quick, what day is it?”

I pinch his side. “I’m serious, you dick.”

“What do you mean? We’re already married. You have been following the last few months, haven’t you?”

“Okay, even I’m not that dumb.”

“You sure? Because you’re not being convincing right now.”

I shake my head. “No, it’s just … you never got that. You never had the actual proper proposal. You had me rambling at you about being freaked-out and needing you all so I could marry someone else and I—” I shake my head again. I can’t seem to stop.

Fuck it.

I sink to one knee.

And almost cop a hip to the head for my efforts.

Okay, so maybe the middle of the dance floor wasn’t the smartest place for this, but I’m all in now. And then I glance up and find Tripp looking at me with an expression that steals my breath. I slide the titanium band off his finger that we bought when we decided we were staying together and hold it up.

“You deserve to bring a man to his knees,” I shout over the music. “And you do with me. Every day. You’re amazing, and I can’t believe I’m the one you chose, even when you thought that meant choosing nothing.”

Tripp steps closer and cups my face.

“But I’m going to give you everything now. Because that’s what you do for me.” I reach up and grab his shirt, tugging him down so I don’t have to shout anymore. “Will you marry me?”

His face explodes with a smile. “You dopey, romantic man. Of course I will.” He hauls me to my feet to avoid us getting trampled and takes my mouth in a kiss that leaves me weak. I cling to him, not wanting him to get too far, and when he pulls back and holds out his hand, it takes me a second to remember I’m still holding his ring.

I slip it on and pull out my phone.

“One other thing we never got to do.”

“Take a selfie? Because we’ve got a thousand.”

“The obligatory announcement photo.”

“Geez, you’re weird.”

I pull him against me. “Says more about you than it says about me.”

Then he holds up his hand as I press a kiss to his cheek. My flash goes off, and even with the photo done, we still don’t break apart.

Together is where we’re meant to be.

I open my private social media page and upload the photo along with a three-word caption.

He said yes.





Thirty-Four





TRIPP





I raise my hand to knock on Ezra’s apartment door, and he answers with a, “Hey, losers.”

“Why are we friends with you again?” I ask.

“Because since being with Anton, I have simmered into a mature human being, and you love me.”

Dex cocks his head. “That doesn’t sound right.”

“So why are we losers?”

“Because you didn’t get picked for All-Stars. Duh.”

“Neither did you,” I point out.

“No, but Anton did, so therefore, I’m not a loser by association. Also, Boston’s not sitting below Buffalo on the leaderboard for points this season.”

“Hey, Buffalo are having a surprisingly good season,” I argue. I don’t add on the for them part. “They might actually make a playoffs one of these days.”

“Mm, maybe. Rumor has it Little Dalton will be joining them next season.”