Page 39 of Your Play to Call

thanks but it’s preseason. Doesn’t really count

it’s better than losing though

counts in my book

you got that right

thought you weren’t going to play since it was preseason?

I guess it’s different when the team is brand new

guess the mvp even needs to pull his weight

it’s so weird this team didn’t exist last season

you’re telling me

still coming over?

yes a thousand times yes

can’t wait to see you :)

I watched this preseasongame like a hawk, clued in for every single play. Tripp Owens in joggers is something special but seeing him in a football uniform issomething else.

He only played the first half. The team went comfortably up a few scores with their starters and then held onto the win with backups and third stringers. Pre-season is all about solidifying roster spots, according to Tripp.

Watching football isn’t new for me. My family always had it on during the weekends when I was a kid. It’s harder to keep up with when I go on tour and am on my own type of schedule. Now I have a completely different reason to tune in.

Everything between us is still light and exciting. I love the feeling of something fresh and new. I can’t get enough of this man—It’s like I crave Tripp’s stories and details.

I haven’t seen him since last week when he came over after practice, but we’ve FaceTimed every night. Doing the thing where you talk about nothing and everything for far too long.

Good thing because I haven’t heard anything from Erik or the label. Claire told me not to stress about it but I am; the lack of response has me second guessing myself. Am I talented enough to pull something off intimate and small? Who am I without the lights, costumes, and effects?

I like that Tripp is busy with his own thing because it gives me time to work. I’ve finished a few more songs this week and am playing with some new melodies on my piano. All my homes have a small recordingstudio just in case I get a wave of inspiration and need to get a rough cut of something recorded.

I catch myself smiling when I think about Tripp, the kiss I’ll greet him with. I decide to write and play the piano until he gets here.

Three missed calls, anotification flashes on my phone. I look at the time and it’s clear I’ve completely zoned out.

Tripp.

I call him back and run up the stairs to the main floor. He answers after the first ring.

“I am so sorry! Did you go back to your—” I open the door to see Tripp sitting on my front steps. When I expect to see a frustrated or annoyed version of him, I’m surprised when he’s nothing but smiles and greets me with a hug.

“I don’t know what happened. I was writing and on the piano and I can’t believe I just left you out here.”

Before I can keep going, Tripp kisses me.

“Lo, Breathe. It’s okay. You were in the zone.” He claps his hands and rubs them together.

“You’re not mad?”

“No way,” he says while grabbing a bag from the steps.

This is not how I thought this would go. If this was Dexter, he’d be scolding me on how disrespectful it is to waste someone’s time. Instead, Tripp walks inside like he’s been here a thousand times.