24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Willow

Me

yay! a win

Tripp

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 preseason game like a hawk, clued in for every single play. Tripp Owens in joggers is something special but seeing him in a football uniform is something 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 recording studio 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, a notification 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.

He puts the bag on the kitchen island, pulling out cookies and a pint of something.

"What's all that? "

"These are my favorite cookies, oatmeal scotchies, and before you make fun of me, I don't care. And this was a pint of ice-cream. A poor choice for the long drive and then the delayed entry." His voice is light and carefree.

"I'm sorry."

"Tell you what… if you want to make it up to me, you can show me your studio."

I reach for his hand to lead him down to the basement. His hand in mine immediately makes me want his hands everywhere.

"This is so cool," Tripp says as he looks around. He sits down at the piano and starts playing "Mary Had a Little Lamb". I sit down next to him, our legs touching.

"Very nice," I say as he wraps up the song.

"Play me something," he says. "Please."

"Ugh, I don't know," I chew on the inside of my cheek, embarrassed that he even asked. "I don't usually play live for people I know." His mouth drops.

"Global superstar Willow doesn't like to play for people she knows?"

"No, not really. I usually bring in recorded cuts to my label. I don't think I've ever played in front of them in a small setting." I tuck the same strand of hair behind my ear.

"Even the greats get nervous. Means you got something to lose." He squeezes my knee.

"That's sweet. Who said that?"

"My mom. I used to get so nervous before college games that I'd throw up. Just the ones where I was going to start." He laughs and puts his hands through his dark hair.

"Do you still do that? Throw up before games?"

"No. I saw a sports psychologist, and that's one of the first things we worked on. "

The sports psychologist doesn't surprise me. If there's one thing I've learned, early on, is Tripp does anything and everything to take care of himself.

He takes his finger and taps a few of the keys.

"What's your favorite song?" I ask him.

He jokingly covers his eyes. "Don't make me pick."

"Just pick a favorite. I'll probably play it. You can sing." I lean into his side with a playful nudge, trying to mask my internal alarms screaming "don't do it".

Tripp breathes in slow and deep, completely exhaling before he says, "Let's do… City Lights Say."

A smile creeps over my face since he picked one of my favorites. I place my fingers over the keys and start to play. Even though it's one I recorded with the full band, I love this song on piano—it feels right. This is the type of feeling I'm after for my next album.

Right before the lyrics are supposed to come in, I sneak a look at Tripp. His eyes are closed and he's nodding along to the beat. I don't have to tell him to come in because he starts singing at the exact right time.

Hearing someone else sing my music is always an experience, but this 6'2" NFL player takes the cake. His voice isn't half-bad, and he knows all the words.

They were out for blood

And all I had was grace

The city lights tell tales and lies

Just like you, the skyline was all about the chas e

Tripp dramatically finishes the chorus with some freestyle singing, and it has me in a fit of laughter, missing some keys at the end of the song. I clap for him as he stands to bow.

"Wow! You knew where to come in and everything."

"Well, that's because it's on my warmup playlist. I listen to it almost every day. I've also sang it at a team karaoke night."

I can't explain it, but it's like he's giving me the greatest compliment. Does it get better than hearing your song is on someone's playlist? The thought of him singing my songs, in public, in I'm sure true Tripp fashion, brings me joy.

"You are something else," I say as I stand up and wrap him in a hug. "Did you know this song is the reason it was The Skyline Tour?"

He gasps, "I knew it! Or I had my theories!" He puts his hands on my shoulders and lightly presses, so I can see his face.

Tripp in my studio, eyes wide and vibrant, voice enthusiastic and excited, is a memory I'll keep a mental bookmark on for a long time.