Page 91 of Your Play to Call
He leans over the small table in the carriage and I meet him halfway, my lips on his. Tripp anxiously holds my hands but his lips on mine tell me the truth of how much he means what he said.
I hold my breath since I don’t trust my mouth. I know, at any moment, I could blurt out how much I love this man. I’ve thought about it, but my bones are telling me it’s true.
In this moment, I know there’s a song here. A song that will say the things I want to declare, promise, and swear. My brain is full of half lines and my ears are full of a melody I’ve been saving for something, or someone, monumental. It feels like I've been writing Tripp’s song almost my entire life.
No matter how I feel, I don’t have it in me to say it first. I know it’s childish but it’s self-preservation. What if he doesn’t say it back? What if he’s not ready?
We reach the apex of the Ferris wheel and are hit with a view that steals the air from your lungs. It’s a line of the coast, waves from the Atlantic breaking at the shore, and the sun retreating. Tripp even leans a little closer to the edge to get a better look. The sun has started to set and it’s showing off, littering the sky with blurred pinks, purples, and yellows. We couldn’t have picked a better time to reach the top.
The Ferris wheel slowly comes to a stop. The gondola sways a tiny bit and I immediately look across to Tripp. He grips the edge of the bench with one hand, his knuckles straining, and his other holds my handtighter. The muscles in his jaw flex and twitch as he stares out towards the sunset.
I stand up and the gondola sways, back and forth, as I sit next to Tripp. He snaps his face towards mine, clearly bothered with the movement.
“Must you do that?” he says through a nervous laugh.
“Do what?” I lean my weight back and then forward, causing us to rock. Tripp closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
After a few seconds, which probably dragged on much longer for him, I use a hand to turn his face to mine. My fingers are chilled from the October dusk and Tripp’s skin feels warm underneath. He opens his eyes just as the tip of my nose touches his—I smile before kissing him.
This kiss. There’s something about it.
It’s wispy cotton candy clouds. It’s summer rain after a drought. It’s the coziest blanket you reach for when you need to warm up. It’s comfortable but still rich. It’s your favorite song playing in the car with the windows down.
It’s everything I’ve hoped for.
I break our kiss just so I can look into Tripp’s eyes, which are more blue than gray today. He kisses my forehead, wraps an arm around my waist, and watches the sun set. I rest my head on his shoulder, taking this in. This moment. This weekend. This man.
I love this part. The idea of seeing the world you belong in, but from a significantly different perspective. Dreams feel closer, hardships feel doable, and questions get answered.
But the question really wasn’t one I needed help answering.
I’m, without a doubt, in love with Tripp.
After some of thebest chili and fresh apple cider donuts I've ever had, we’re pulling back into The Cove. Soft lights illuminate the sign in the dark of night. A cup of hot apple cider warms my hands. By now the stars are out, and I’ve missed them. Sometimes, when it’s really dark and cloudless, I can see them from my patio, but the city ruins it most nights.
“Ready for an adventure?” Tripp asks. “It’s your call.” He looks over as he puts the car in park.
“Always.”
And I mean it.
Instead of going back inside, Tripp leads me to a path on the outskirts of the bed and breakfast. I don’t ask questions because I trust him and, at this point, I’d go anywhere with him. He leads us to an outdoor sitting area equipped with different chairs, a few love seats, and an outdoor fireplace. Baskets full of blankets and throw pillows feel like they’re always within reach.
“Can I get you a blanket? Or twelve?” Tripp laughs as he grabs a few blankets from a basket.
I sit down at the loveseat, which is right in front of the fireplace. Tripp wraps a blanket around my shoulder, sits next to me, and then puts one across our lap.
“Thank you,” I say, snuggling into the blanket. It’s just the two of us out here and it’s peaceful.
The crack of the flames blends with the crash of the waves. A feeling of contentment and joy washes over me. The sound has the same soothing effect as when I finally find the right arrangement of notes for a bridge I’ve been mulling over for a while—like a piece of the puzzle finally clicks.
I bring the cider to my lips, the steam almost like smoke when I look over my cup.
If someone would’ve told me I’d take a trip to a city pulled right out of a Hallmark movie to snuggle an NFL player this year, I would’ve never believed them.
The way this year has worked out in a completely different way than I thought, makes my smile hard to contain. There have been really steep highs and devastating lows, but I’m still here. I really thought the Super Bowl half time show would be the key highlight. The fans. The environment. Another stamp of success on my career. Instead, it’s these moments with Tripp, the ones that are slow and full.
He treats me like I’m something to treasure. I’ve been better at being kind to myself, following Tripp’s lead. I feel like I’m better at standing up for what I want when I’m with him, since he makes choosing myself easy.