Page 66 of Your Play to Call
I can’t stop staring at Lo. She literally makes it hard for me to breathe. Her lips are painted a dark pink, almost magenta. I love her signature pink lip. I feel like most women wear a red lipstick for things like this, and I love that Willow has her own spin.
“MVP, you better go and get ready,” she says while smoothing her hands down the front of her dress.
Claire chimes in. “Don’t forget to wash your face. You’ve got some drool,” she jokes as she gestures to my mouth. She claps me on the back before she leaves.
The car stops andI can already hear the incessant click of the cameras. I open the door and step out first. My hands brush the front of my black suit, and I double check the buttons. The crowd is getting unruly quick. They know Willow is in the car. Waiting.
I stand in front of the opening for a few seconds, giving everyone a slight smirk. When the sound is at what I think is an appropriate hype level, I reach my hand in and help Willow out. Her foot hits the carpet. The clicks are constant, and the screams are deafening—goosebumps pebble my arms under my designer suit.
Instead of letting her hand go, I give her a quick spin. She’s caught off guard, and it leads to an earnest smile. We hold hands after, and I know I’m feeding into exactly what the paparazzi want. Sure, I may yell at the ones who cross a line but I’m also here to give a shot to press who follow the rules.
We walk to the carpet, hand in hand.
Willow! Willow! Over here! Tripp!
It’s overwhelming but I actually don’t mind it. This is the first time I’ve attended something like this with a date. I swallow back the emotion—I will not cry on this red carpet. I try to soak in the cheers, Willow’s hand firmly in mine, and the coy look she gives me. Our eyes lock for a moment, long enough for me to know I want to swim in that golden gaze.
While we’re posing and slowly making our way down the red carpet, I hear a laugh I could pick out of a lineup. Zack. I look back just in time to see him reach for Emilie’s hand. She’s confused but grabs it and he pulls her in for a pose. The press loves it. Emilie quickly bounces back, replacing her furrowed brows with a face fit for the red carpet, like she’s done it a hundred times.
“What in the world?!” Willow says while seeing what I see. “I swear, that woman can do anything.” She shakes her head and laughs.
“Zack and I share the same kind of spontaneity,” I say as I dip her so fast she grabs my arms like I’m going to drop her. I would never. When she realizes what I’m doing, she wears a pink smirk that I can’t help but kiss.
It feels like every camera turns our way and leans in. I prolong our kiss, because I fucking want to, and I know everyone is eating this up. This famous thing? Not so bad when you’re kissing your gorgeous girlfriend who kisses back like she means it.
I know this isn’t typical red-carpet behavior. The Cosmos PR team briefed us about the event and used words like high-brow, sophisticated, and refined. Whoops.
We have more funthan I ever remember having at something like this. Emilie ended up joining our table since Zack said he was bringing a plus one but that didn’t work out. Who knows what flavor of the week he was planning on.
Everyone acted like Willow and Emilie were part of the crew. The drinks were flowing, the snacks never stopped, and now I’m listening to Willow moan over a piece of caramel popcorn cheesecake.
That fucking moan.
Not me adjusting my crotch while the owner of the team holds a golden retriever puppy, trying to get someone to take this dog home. Sneaky bastard.
After the festivities, it’s more drinks and music. Some people approach our table and ask to take pictures with Willow. She’s a queen and says yes to every single one of them.
We’re standing at a high-top, just the two of us. Zack and Emilie ditched us an hour ago to dance. I’m pleasantly buzzed. Not drunk but everything is soft enough around the edges. I can tell Willow is feeling the same way.
Her hand finds the nape of my neck where she draws slow circles as she leans into me. I hold her hand and plant kisses on the inside of her wrist. She wraps her arms around my neck, and we dance during a slow song.
“How about one more drink and then we go home?” she croons into my ear.
“Home. I fucking love when you say that.” I wrap my arms around her lower back and then lift her up, spinning in a circle. She throws her head back with a laugh that’s a little louder than it would’ve been two glasses of Champagne ago.
I set her down, plant a kiss on the sensitive spot between her jaw and ear. She acts like it tickles but I know it’soneof her favorite spots for my mouth.
I walk to the bar and find myself next to a sweaty Zack, chugging a glass of water.
“Maybe your plus one was afraid she would drown if she came tonight.” I look him up and down, pull him in by the shoulder, and shake him when we both laugh.
“The dance floor is where it’s at! You’d know if you weren’t wrapped up in what I’m guessing is going to end up being the love of your life.” Zack puts the gin and tonic to his lips. His words hit me. I let them land. What if he’s right?Fuck. I hope he is right.
“I can’t get over how chill she is with the guys. Like, I want to hang out. Not at a fancy gala where there are sad puppies being paraded around but how about a bar? We could totally do that.” Zack runs his hands through his hair which looks much darker because of the sweat.
I look over at the high top and see Willow with someone. A guy. Someone I don’t know. He leans his arms on the high-top table while they talk.
I order her a Champagne and a neat bourbon for myself. I keep looking over my shoulder to see what she’s doing with him. Maybe they know each other? She knows a ton of people. That must be it.