Page 13 of The Air I Breathe

I'm not going to be able to get out of this, so I sigh and just get it over with. "I went to the Willa concert."

"Oh, do tell how that happened." Bret smacks his hands and then rubs them together. "Last we heard from you, you were bitching because you weren't able to meet her and give her your number during her tour stop in Nashville. Obviously something happened."

Shit. He's not going to let me get out of this at all. "A friend of a friend heard we both wanted to meet—not just me, thank you very much. Numbers were exchanged, and we've been talking for a little bit. She happened to be in Tampa when we were, so I got approved to stay after the game. Wasn't a huge deal—just wanted to spend some time together." My face is fucking hot. I haven't been this embarrassed in a while. In my pocket, my phone goes off. It's at that moment, I remember this is a live stream. I reach into my jeans, palming my phone, and I put it on the table. It's a text from Willa. The smile on my face is wider than I probably even think it is.

W: You're embarrassed to tell people you were with me, huh?

“Look at him typing on his phone.” CeCe pokes fun. “Probably talking to her now.”

I wave her off, and continue.

B: Not at all, but he's my older brother, and since you're an older sibling, you know how he likes to give me shit. He's doing this because he's a dick, but I’m being vague because we also never truly discussed how we wanted to approach this. I want to be respectful of you.

W: I'm down for whatever you want, Blake. If you want to tell everybody we were together, then do it. If you wanna tell people what you think about me, do it. I'm sick of hiding, and I refuse to do it again.

With a big smile on my face, I drop the phone. "She and I hung out, and she invited me to her show."

"What did you think about it?" CeCe asks. "I really wanna see it. I'm bummed I didn't get to go here in Nashville, since we were all here the same night."

"She's a fucking athlete. I don't know of many professional football players who could do what she did. She’s singing and dancing, playing not only instruments, but to the crowd. She is present and in the moment. She wants the fans to have an experience—I witnessed it firsthand. It was overwhelming for me being in the audience—I can't imagine how it is for her being on stage. Like, we get little bursts of adrenaline, and she gets almost four hours of it at a time. It's a lot. It was nice to see how someone else works. I had a great time. I'd love to go again."

Bret puts his arm around his wife. "Good. You can take CeCe then. That way I don't have to."

CeCe pushes against his side. "You should want to take me out on dates, sir."

They're still play-arguing, but all I can do is roll my eyes. As annoying as they can be sometimes, I want that type of relationship, and there's something about Willa that makes me think I can have it.

Chapter Ten

Willa

"They're not getting the picture today." I giggle as I put a blanket over my head.

We landed in Nashville about fifteen minutes ago and there are definitely paparazzi waiting to snap a photo of me. I understand they have a job to do, but I hate being the person who has her privacy invaded to pay their bills.

"Let's go, Willa," Kevin says as he escorts me out of the plane.

We quickly get me into the backseat of a blacked out SUV. As the lights of I-65 go past, I rest my head back against the seat. My phone buzzes next to my hand. Blake's name is lit up. I haven’t heard from him in a few days, so this is exciting.

B: Totally not trying to check on you, but it just came across my social feed that you landed. Have you had dinner?

This is new. No one I've ever dated or been interested in has worried about if I'm taken care of. They always assume I have other people to do that, that I've hired someone who can make sure my needs are met. In some cases that’s true, but I've always wanted a guy to make that kind of thoughtful gesture for me.

W: I haven't. I'm starving too.

B: I'm on Broadway, and because we live in the same town, I know where you live. How do you feel about Daddy's Dogs?

My stomach growls as he mentions the hot dog stand that has my heart. None of it is good for me, but every time I'm on Broadway, I always stop.

W: Can you hear my stomach from where I am?

B: LMAO! What's your order? Are you close to your penthouse? Trying to make sure I get it to you while it's hot.

This is the gesture I've always wanted. Someone to put me first. Glancing up, I calculate about how far away we are.

W: We're about ten minutes out, then Kevin will sweep the penthouse. So roughly twenty or so.

B: He has to sweep it? Like with a broom?