Page 54 of Your Play to Call
“Sounds good, Wendy. Text me what day works best for you.”
Text her? What is happening? She must sense my question.
“Your mom and I sort of hit it off.” She shrugs like it’s common knowledge.
“Wow, okay. Hope you’ll still have time for me.”
“I’ll see if I can fit you in,” she says while planting a sweet kiss on my mouth.
“All right, lovebirds. I’m out of here. Tripp, great game. Hope to see another one soon,” Emilie says, trying to make her exit.
“I’ll put you on the suite list for the rest of the season. You’re always welcome. If you ever need a plus one, let me know and I can make it happen,” I say and shake her hand.
Emilie shoots Willow a look. One that says, I know what you’re about to do and have some fun. Someone else from Willow’s security detail will follow us to the team dinner and then to my apartment before calling it a night.
“Are you ready?” I ask.
“More than ready, Mr. MVP,” she tells me, and I try not to blush.
I reach for her hand and we walk to my car. She and I both know this is where some of the media will be waiting to get a picture of us together. We talked about it before the game and I can’t wait for people to see her with me. I’d see her in secret if I needed to, but I love that we’re going public.
The media is respectful and quiet. They mostly take our pictures without saying anything and Willow smiles and waves when we pass.
My girl’s so good at this.
Chapter 32
Willow
I’m sitting in abooth next to Tripp and across from some of his teammates. Everyone has been welcoming. It feels like I’m Willow, a semi-normal human, meeting her boyfriend’s friends.
We keep finding ways to touch. Leaning into one another. Knees touching under the table. Holding hands. An arm wrapped around shoulders.
While I try not to be that disgustingly smitten woman who keeps stealing looks of Tripp when she thinks no one is looking, I can’t really help it.
The best part? I don’t think Tripp is much different. There’s been quite a few times when I find he’s already looking at me. I love the feel of his soft, gray eyes on me.
Someone slides into the booth, and they have this look. Their eyes are wide, posture is too straight, and I haven’t seen them blink or breathe. I know this look.
“Hi! I’m Willow,” I say, extra cheer in my voice, and reach out to shake this man’s hand.
The way he slowly lifts his hand to mine makes me want to laugh. Not at him. It’s surreal to think I elicit these kinds of reactions from people. Some days my brain can’t make sense of it.
“I’m FJ. That’s what people call me. My name,” he sucks in a breath, “isn’t two letters. I have a name—”
“Are you kidding me right now? We practiced this…” Zack says while bumping his shoulder into FJ’s. Tripp puts his head in his hands, I think he’s also trying not to laugh.
“Fritz. My name is Fritz,” he says, and Zack gives him a high-five. It’s adorable.
“Great to meet you. What position do you play?”
He responds with a laugh. A belly laugh. Zack whips his head to him, with a massive grin on his face.
“I love when that happens,” he says through his laugh. “I’m an equipment manager, not a player. But did y’all see that? She thought I wason the team,” he says playfully and it makes me like him. Immediately.
“We’re never going to hear the end of this. You know that right?” Tripp softly says in my ear, his lips kissing my temple, like he’s done it a million times before. The act of affection, in front of his guys, melts me.
“FJ or Fritz, it’s great to meet you.”