Page 12 of Tripp

She was better than any calming meds or a heating pad for that matter. I’d been antsy all night, between being in a very dangerous situation, being hurt, and then seeing him again.

After Tripp left, I had to admit to myself that—why was it so hard to love some people? Or to accept that they loved you too? Any of it. No one tells you as a kid that when you get big, older, your adult brain is just as fucked up as your younger self. I should have known what to do…but alas, I knew nothing.

I’ve loved—I love—the big idiot. I have for as long as I could remember. He was the forbidden love people warned you about. The older, experienced man. My brother’s best friend. He checked—checks—all the right boxes for me though. I was sure he always has.

I blamed my current acknowledgment of loving a ‘bad boy’ on the romance novels I read.

I wanted him, no, I needed him to be the book hero.

Yesterday he was. He’d literally dropped in out of nowhere and scooped me up.

When I was a child, I remember him and Scooter hanging around the house. They’d let me play with them, and as time went on, they’d changed. Growing into young men. The age gap didn’t keep them from being there for me. School bullies? Oh, they’d handled it.

When I was seven, they’d headed off to basic training. There had been a lot happening. Tripp was a dad; I’d heard Mom and Scooter talking about a baby. He was off to make a better life for everyone.

My mom had cried for days. I remembered that time being hard for her, for us both. Every time there was a knock on the door, a late-night phone call—she was so worried she’d lose her boy.

I saw them anytime they came home, but with Tripp having other responsibilities, I didn’t get to see him as much.

Then years passed before I saw him again.

He’d joined Scooter on a trip home for my high school graduation.

That night changed my life. I didn’t just mean the graduation; I mean the way I saw Tripp.

That night he’d saved me from myself. The guy I was ‘talking to’ was a jerk. He wanted in my pants, I’d said no, so he left me, abandoned me at a gas station.

I’d called home for a ride. Thankfully, Mom always made sure I had change for the pay phone. Tripp had been the one to come swooping in. On the way home, I’d broken down, ya know, the whole ‘over-emotional girl crying bit.’

Tripp had taken me for a long drive, not wanting me to go home upset. We’d talked. I’d cried more. He’d threatened to break the jerk’s knee caps. He’d pulled me out of the manic state I was spiraling toward.

In hindsight, knowing the man as I did now, that long drive kept him from going back and beating Josh’s ass.

Tripp had been there, supported me, and even kissed me goodnight on the front stoop of the house. A soft, quick brush of his lips and he was gone.

Don’t make it weird, people. I was nineteen, six months from being twenty at the time I graduated.

That brief kiss stayed with me. I still thought about it. That was the night I noticed Tripp Cavannagh as a man and not just my older brother’s best friend.

The sexy-as-sin man has been heart-stoppingly handsome and formidable for years.

When he and Scooter came back home between tours, on breaks, they’d always come to see Mom and me. At my college graduation, I got to meet Phoenix, his son. Tripp’s mini me to a tee.

A few more years passed, and I had to make the hardest call of my life. My mom’s passing hit me hard.

It was during that time home that things actually changed between us.

I was twenty-seven, supposedly an adult who was now on my own, falling apart after months of watching my mom get sicker and slowly deteriorate. If not for the strength of will, I couldn’t say how I’d have turned out. But I’d pulled myself together and with them by my side, we’d said goodbye to a woman who’d loved us all unconditionally.

I’d let the emotional me be in control that night. The alcohol probably didn’t help. And well, one thing led to another, and the man stole my heart completely. And I willingly gave him my virginity.

It was a night I would never forget. And, my heart has truly been his since that night.

It would always be his.

He’d left a couple of days later, no in-person goodbye, just a note that said, ‘See you soon, beautiful.’ But I didn’t see him soon. Not for years after that. It was never awkward, just not as often as my heart wanted it to be.

He’d been there for the hard times. He’d healed a piece of my shattered heart each time.

---