Page 32 of Your Play to Call
I’m not the most experienced when it comes to dating, or whatever the hell it is Willow and I are doing, but I know that cancelling plans, as another woman sleeps in your penthouse, isn’t the key to happiness.
Even I know I shouldn’t have stood Willow up. Why can I hear Zack in my head, telling me what a jackass I am? If he was right next to me, he’d still be right.
If there’s one thing my idiotic behavior taught me, it's that Willow is moving up on my list of all the things that deserve my time. My focus.
It’s time I learn how to make room for something other than football. I wish I came up with that, but it’s a direct quote from Bailey.
Last night, I almost called Willow. I’d pick up my phone, open our recent messages, and hover my finger above the call button. I didn't have it in me to actually call her. Instead, thoughts of Willow ran through my mind until I fell asleep. Her wrapped around me. How she smells like vanilla. Those perfect pink lips. The way her eyes went wide with pleasure when I backed her up against the door. The little noises she made when I kissed her.
Mostly, I think about how I probably have fucked up this whole thing.
Our last preseason game is this week. Everyone on the team is ready for the season to get going. Right now, it’s mostly speculation about a group of guys who’ve never played together before and it’s time to just figure shit out.
On my way home from practice, I call Willow.
“Didn’t expect to hear from you.” Her voice is cold and level when she answers.
“I owe you an explanation.”
“Tripp, we don’t have to do this. If you’re not into it, it’s fine—”
“That is so far from the truth. What are you doing tonight?”
“Nothing.” I can tell I’ve caught her off guard. “I need to get some writing done.”
“Do you mind if I come over?”
“Don’t you have your yoga class tonight?” She asks, skeptical.
I typically take a restorative yoga class on Thursday nights. I almost let myself smile when I think about how she remembered this small detail.
“I’m skipping it.” Guilt pulls at the corner of my brain, but I wave it off.
“Sure. I’ll be home around eight. You can come over if you want,” she says.
“Perfect. Just enough time to switch cars. I’ll be on my way shortly.” In this moment, I plead with the traffic gods to just let me have this one.
“You don’t have to switch cars if it’s annoying…” Her words fade a bit.
“You’re right. I don’t have to, but I want to.”
Chapter 21
Willow
“This ismyfucking show, and I can do whatever I want…?”
“Willow. Not a question. A statement. Try it again.” Claire says in a way that makes me want to follow all of her instructions.
“This ismyfucking show, and I can do WHATEVER I WANT!” I yell the last part just to make sure it’s not a question.
“There it is. Remember, we’re in and out of this meeting. Give them enough but no negotiation or deep discussion today. They’re going to need time. Also, we have a late lunch reservation at the place with the spicy salmon wontons and we willnotbe late,” Claire says, looking back and forth between me and Emilie.
I tuck my phone into one of my favorite bags—a black leather Prada—before I walk into the meeting to discuss my next project with the label. Beads of sweat form on my lower back. Tripp calling right before we left was a good thing. Kind of like he knew I needed a distraction. Between Tripp and Claire’s affirmations, my brain is busy in a good way.
His call gave me hope there’s something between us. Right now, I’m choosing to hold onto that. I tend to lean into the negative but I’m working on it.
My label and I have a solid relationship, which is a good thing since the industry is so tumultuous. With so many talented artists breaking through on new channels, all thanks to social media, we’re all looking for what’s next.