“Yes,” I squeak.
“Well, I’m convinced,” Ezra says. “Anton, help me get the life vests?”
I hang my head back on a groan. “No. You two aren’t leaving me to go and fuck too. Doesn’t anyone want to spend time with me on this trip?”
“We’ve done nothing but spend time with you,” Ezra points out. “Gotta be honest here, Dex, I’m having a whole lot less sex than I thought I’d be.”
And I’m spending a lot less time with my best friend than I thought I’d be. As that thought crosses my mind though, I push it away. There I go being selfish again. I wasn’t supposed to be here, so I can’t expect them to change their vacation plans to fit me into them. But … is it so bad that I want them to?
I cross my arms. “Fine. Go.”
“Score.” He grabs Anton’s hand and tries to drag him toward the house, but Anton stands firm.
“Go and get the life vests.”
“Is that a euphemism?” Ezra’s face scrunches up because that one is a stretch, even for him.
“Dex is feeling left out.”
“Well, he came on a trip with two couples,” Ezra throws back, but there’s something in his voice that sounds … I dunno, guilty maybe?
“I didn’t know,” I say. “Tripp didn’t tell me he was with Oskar, and I don’t understand it. Why did he invite me if he wanted to spend all this time with his … boyfriend? Did he think I wouldn’t find out? And are they actually boyfriends or just fucking? Tripp’s never mentioned it before.”
They exchange another one of their looks, and Anton holds up his hands, taking a step back. “You know what, I’m getting the life vests. I can’t look at this anymore.”
He leaves, and Ezra glares after him.
“Can’t look at what? Why’s he leaving?”
“Nothing, Dex. Come help me get this death trap ready.” He starts walking toward a tiny motorboat, and I stall behind him.
“Ah, Ez? You know I was joking about the drowning thing, right?”
“But who says I was?”
Aaand I’m out. “You guys have fun.”
I walk around the property for a while, something I’ve done a few times this week, debating over whether it would be better to cut this trip short and head home. Phoebe can keep me company away from all these couples, and I won’t spoil the vacation for Tripp.
I want to be annoyed that he didn’t tell me about Oskar, but Tripp’s too sweet to rub in that he’s in a relationship just as mine ended. And sure, it’s weird that he hooked up with that guy after the Stanley Cup, but Tripp would never cheat, so they’ve clearly got some kind of arrangement for when they’re not together. Or maybe it’s new. I don’t know, and that’s what’s killing me. I didn’t think Tripp kept secrets from me.
I wish they weren’t together.
Almost as soon as I think that, guilt takes over. I should want Tripp to be happy. And if the noises I’ve been hearing coming from Oskar’s bedroom are any indication, Tripp is very happy.
Which is good.
Even if it’s not with me.
When I’m sure that the sex should be wrapped up, I make my way back to the house, thinking I might as well take a nap until everyone gets back tonight, but on my way in, I pass Oskar walking out.
“Tripp’s, ah, having a post-sex nap. Leave him. He hasn’t been getting much sleep lately, if you get what I mean.” He winks like somehow the innuendo wasn’t clear.
“Right.” I walk down the hall to the bedrooms, and right before I reach Tripp’s door, I glance back over my shoulder to find Oskar watching me. “I’m going,” I say, stalking to my room and slamming the door behind me.
It’s almost like Oskar doesn’t want me around Tripp, which is so damn stupid because we can both make him happy.
That’s it. I don’t care what they’re doing this afternoon, I’ll be doing it with them. If they’re having sex, I’ll … I dunno, cheer from the sidelines or something. We can go for a walk, or a hike, or … anything. I don’t want to stop them from spending time together, but Oskar can’t stop me from spending time with Tripp as well.
I give it five minutes before I creep back out again, and thankfully, Tripp’s watchdog is gone.
I have no idea where he is, so feeling like a ninja, I dart to Tripp’s door and duck inside, holding my breath that Oskar isn’t in there.
And judging by the lump under Tripp’s covers, it’s only him.
Finally.
I cross to the bed, lift the covers, and climb in, snuggling into his side.
Tripp shoves me. “Oskar, I said don’t touch me.”
“Oskar?”
His eyes snap open. “Dex, ah … yeah. Umm, couple rule. He, umm, overheats and is sweaty, and it’s gross sleeping against him. He also farts like crazy.”