10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Tripp

My phone buzzes obnoxiously, even though it's barely 6 a.m.

What the hell? I grab it from the nightstand and see 54 unread text messages and even more notifications

My stomach drops. The last time something like this happened, it was the fallout from being re-drafted. All the roots I tried to put down, gone. I'll never forget the way my phone buzzed as I talked to the Seattle Serpents general manager, wishing me luck.

Before I have a chance to investigate, my phone rings: Mom.

I yawn into the phone before I say, "It's so early."

"That is no way to greet your mother," my mom lovingly snaps.

"Good morning, Mom," I sweetly croon.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" she pokes. It's not condescending or accusatory.

"Why do I feel like I'm in trouble?"

"It looks like you had a good time at the afterparty last night..." Her voice trails off and my brain tries to catch up.

"I did have a good time. But I think I know what you're referring to and I just walked her to the car, like a gentleman."

"Ah, I was thinking about the pictures of where she's in your lap in what looks like a dark, dark corner where you couldn't be bothered, but what do I know? I don't have my glasses on."

"Huh?"

"Google yourself or something. Let's get on the same page. "

I put my mom on speaker phone and Google my name, which is always weird.

And there it is, a blurry but clear enough picture where Willow looks to be draped all over me, my arm around her, and our noses so close they could be touching. It was the moment that guy fell into her but whoever sent this photo in deviously cut that man out of the picture. Before I have a chance to click into anything, I know everyone is eating this up.

Fuck. I'm eating this up.

"Oh, wow," is all I can muster while I'm taking in the photo and headlines.

"Are you seeing Willow? You know I love her music." My mom sounds excited.

"No, I'm not seeing her. I mean, I saw her, but you know what I mean."

My mom snickers, "I wish you believed in fate because I'm really questioning the coincidence of your first meeting and now this one."

"We were just talking, and someone fell into her. If you would've seen five seconds later, you'd see me wearing that glass of wine that's in the photo."

"Did she throw it at you?" she asks, her voice concerned but also living for these details.

"No, she didn't throw the wine at me." I give her a tiny laugh. "Someone caught her arm and it ended up going all over. Complete accident."

"Well, I thought maybe you'd dipped your foot in the dating pool. Guess not." She sounds a little disappointed now. "Have you heard from Bailey? She called me last week."

Bailey. The closest thing I had to a girlfriend in college. Really, we were more like long-term friends with benefits. Sometimes we went to events and things together, but most of the time we didn't .

Being with Bailey was easy and comfortable but then we graduated and went our separate ways. I was sad to not see her as frequently, but it didn't hurt like it would to lose someone you love.

We're still in touch. She gets tickets whenever she wants and sometimes she'll ask me to go to something, and it's always a blast to see people react to her bringing an NFL player to a wedding or work event.

My mom adores Bailey and doesn't quite understand our connection. We were in a situationship long before the kids had coined the term.

"Haven't heard from her. She texted when I got re-drafted but that was it." It was nice for her to reach out and we exchanged a few texts, but nothing more than that.

My mom sighs. I know she wishes Bailey and I were a thing.

"I'm going to go back to my morning. Seems like you'll have a wild few days." I can hear her smiling on the other line.

"Love you, Mom." I hang up the phone and start looking at the long list of notifications.

My mom was right, but I don't know if the word "wild" cuts it. The Cosmos had to add extra security to the practice facility since Willow's fans and the press were camping out, trying to get any bit of information. My teammates found it hilarious and would only give answers that weren't really answers and would just leave the person asking them to spin their wheels. Like when they were asked, "Is Tripp Owens dating Willow" the answer was, "I don't even think Tripp Owens is on this team" .

I was getting so much shit in the locker-room. Even Coach had some jabs for me when I dropped a couple easy passes while we were running routes.

It sort of brought us together. Now, I wish it was at someone else's expense, but you win some and you lose some.

I took it. It's part of the gig. I knew something would happen when I walked her to the car, but I didn't expect this kind of response. It's especially surprising considering I haven't been in a serious relationship since I made it in the league.

My manager called to let me know they hired more security for my apartment and shared new routes for arriving and departing.

This is insane. And a tad annoying.

Doesn't help that today was brutal. Not only has practice been kicking my ass but it's been hard to get quality sleep at my place. When I finally got home last night, it took hours for people to stop shouting. Things are clearly not letting up. The line of paparazzi is longer than any other day this week. My shoulders fall and I tip my head up in exasperation. Teammates snicker and playfully hit my back when they walk out in front me.

"I thought they'd be sick of you by now." Zack shakes one of my shoulders. "It's been two weeks." He's our long snapper and the guy I've meshed with the easiest. Weird considering he's part of special teams and we don't practice a ton together. It's not that I don't get along with the other guys, but it's like Zack and I have known each other forever.

"I was being a gentleman," I reason with him.

"That's all it was?" He smirks at me while the rest of the team leaves the locker room. He knows all about the Champagne distraction at the Super Bowl.

"Right." I don't even convince myself .

"Why don't you find a way to get a hold of her? I'm sure you've got some strings to pull."

"That's rich coming from you. You have a line of people waiting for dates, longer than that." I point towards the window. Zack has a different woman what feels like every week.

"Some of us are lucky." Zack shrugs his shoulders. He was named a finalist for some sexiest guy alive title. The man is good-looking, that's for sure.

It would be annoying if he wasn't so genuine. Zack is truly a good guy—he'd do anything for you.

"And don't act like you date." He claps me on the back before heading for the doors.

I follow my teammates and it's like someone turns the sound up full blast when the paparazzi see me. Fuck. I just want to go home.

I take a deep breath, trying to gather myself, and open the door.

Complete chaos never gets any easier. It's a mix of people yelling, handing me things to sign, trying to take photos with everything from iPhones to massive professional cameras.

It's exhausting.

Per my manager, I've not made any sort of statement—the plan was to be quiet and let this blow over. Well, so far that hasn't happened.

Maybe it's time to say something. Before the thought is fully formed, I can already hear my manager, mom, and my new coach scolding me.

Just when I think I'm in the clear, that I'm going to be a good boy and follow instructions, the least threatening of reporters grabs my attention. She's clearly a journalist, with a professional microphone branded with her network. Maybe it's because she talks to me at a normal level but when we make eye contact, I know I'm going to answer her question.

"Tripp, is it true you're dating Willow? Care to make a comment? "

She tips the microphone to me, and I take a step forward. It feels like everything pauses, for a single second, when they realize I'm about to say something. The world feels like it's moving in slow motion.

I did not think this through. What am I supposed to say?

Tripp, you fucking idiot.

Fuck.

The reporter looks at me and her eyebrows keep rising the longer I don't say anything. I go with my gut and tell the truth.

"No, I'm not dating Willow." The reporter goes to pull back the microphone and the chaos starts to rise again. I lightly pull the microphone to me.

"But I wish I was. If anyone can get a hold of her and pass that message along, I'd appreciate it."

I smile into the camera as everyone's mouth hangs open. They did not expect that.

To be honest, neither did I.