66. Epilogue

Epilogue

Tripp

3 months later

The sea of cellphones always catches me off guard, no matter how many times I see it. After clearing security, it's nothing but lenses from any and every angle—not paparazzi but Willow's fans instead.

With a maximum occupancy of only 800 people, tonight's venue is special. Excitement and pure joy rolls off every person as I walk by. All for Willow. My dream girl. Believe me, I totally get it.

As I make my way to my spot, near the side of the stage, I stop as people ask for selfies. It's easy to say yes when they're so damn kind and thankful to be there. The Upstate Cosmos fans are incredible but there's something next level when it comes to Willow's loyal fanbase.

"Hold up, Tripp!" Zack yells. I turn back—he's taking his own photos with groups of fans. He's been begging me to bring him to a concert and this is the first one that aligned with our schedules.

Ever since Zack nailed the trick play to win the Super Bowl, he's become a household name. It's not that people didn't know him before but now it's like a switch, from "some" to "almost all". Rumor has it there's a jump in kids wanting to play his position—long snapper—instead of the traditional quarter back or wide receiver. That's pretty fucking cool.

He's one of the good ones. I love seeing him get the attention and recognition he deserves. Except for now, when he's slowing us down. And letting someone whisper in his ear ?

I squint, make sure I'm seeing things correctly. Zack has always been a magnet for this type of attention. A short blonde, wearing an Upstate Cosmos shirt, laughs as he says something to her. "Zack, you coming?" I ask.

The blonde, hands Zack her phone and he types something in, probably his number. She pouts as he waves and turns back to me.

"Do you know her?" It wouldn't be the first time Zack arranged to meet someone while we were out.

"Not yet," he raises his eyebrows. "But hoping to later." He shakes my shoulder with his hand, and I can't help but roll my eyes. I've never been one to casually hookup with anyone, so maybe I just don't get it, but Zack has had quite the roster ever since we won the Super Bowl.

According to him, he carries multiple condoms with him at all times. At least he's being safe.

Stage lights flicker, indicating there's only a few minutes before the show starts, before they land on Willow's piano—her two guitars next to it. My stomach flips, the butterflies making their pre-show appearance.

Tonight is Willow's tenth tour date, and I know what to expect logistically, but it's like my brain can't comprehend some of the details.

How I'll never need a concert ticket, because I have a reserved spot, at every venue. How the tour sold out in a single day. How people show up wearing Cosmos gear and they're excited to see me even though I'm just a fan like everyone else.

How she's mine.

I'm so fucking proud of her. The new album, "A Love Letter to The Coast", is at the top of the charts, going on week six. The accomplishment is even sweeter since it's under her own label: True Blue Records.

She wanted to keep the tour timeline the same, which meant breaking things off with her original label and diving into this side of the business much sooner than was probably recommended .

"Wow, she looks good," Zack says, his voice trailing off.

I follow his eyes and see an enthusiastic Emilie waving. She's off to the side of the stage—where our seats are. "Don't you dare," I say, my finger pointing at him.

"I would never…" he says, with a smirk, one that tells me not to believe a thing he just said.

"Cutting it close," Emilie yells, pointing at a fake watch on her wrist.

Zack breaks away from the mass group of people trying to get his photo, right off the barricade for our spot for the night. "We're right here! Not going to miss anything."

I shake my head, smiling through the interaction, as Emilie puts a hand on her hip, shifting her weight. Her hazel eyes throw friendly daggers at Zack. It's the four of us, more often than not, and every once in a while, Zack and Emilie bicker like they've known each other their whole lives.

Emilie feels like one of Willow's limbs at this point. Willow asked Emilie to have her hands in the new label; she single handedly found all of the venues and organized the small tour, the one of Willow's dreams, on a tight schedule.

She's killing it but no one's surprised.

The security guard waves us through, his eyes quickly checking our VIP passes hanging around our neck.

"What are the odds Willow invites me on stage tonight?" Zack asks, scoping out the stage and crowd from our seats.

"Zero," Emilie and I answer, and half laugh, at the same time. Zack whips his head, looking between Emilie and I before waving us off with a hand.

Emilie pulls me in for a hug, "Have fun," she says.

"You on the other hand, don't have too much fun." She points at Zack and winks, before she heads backstage .

For the first few shows, I watched from backstage. Honestly, I'm not picky and would be happy being anywhere in the vicinity, but Willow never forgets that I was a fan before I was her boyfriend. She proposed this side section for friends and family and she was right. Seeing her show this way lets me take in all of Willow with the audience experience.

It's fucking intoxicating.

The lights go down and the crowd starts to cheer. It's like you could reach out and grab hold of the energy. I clap right alongside them.

Willow takes one step on the stage and the entire place erupts. Even though this is a much smaller venue, the sound is deafening, and the smile feels like it's glued on my face.

"Holy shit!" Zack says, close to my ear so I can hear him. "I have goosebumps." He shows me his forearm.

"Told you!" I yell over the crowd noise.

Willow stands at the front of the stage, waving and blowing kisses to the crowd—this is how she always starts. Tonight, she's wearing a flowy blue dress, that's ridiculously close to Cosmos colors. It's tighter on the top, with sheer sleeves, her dark hair pinned back from her face. In addition to the intimate venues, she's only working with up-and-coming designers for her concert wardrobe. You won't find her in anything designer but she does a shoutout for each designer at the end of the show, helping other creatives with more visibility.

She walks back to the piano, and finds me, our pre-show tradition. Willow places a hand on her heart and I do the same thing back to her. When she looks at me, fuck, it's like I can do anything.

"If I didn't love you guys, this would be impossible to watch. You know that, right?" Zack bumps his shoulder into mine before giving Willow a wave .

"Welcome to the Coastline Tour!" Willow says into the microphone, while playing a few notes on the piano. The noise of the crowd, even louder than before, feels like it reaches my bones.

"We may not be on the coast tonight but hope the music takes you somewhere special." She smiles and I feel like everyone can see her golden eyes sparkling, no matter where they're sitting.

"Speaking of special, I want to give a shout out to someone who means the world to me." She shifts from the crowd until she's looking at me, playing a melody I know all too well. "Today, Tripp Owens signed a three-year contract extension with the Upstate Cosmos!" She picks her hands off the keys to clap, all while looking at me.

After winning another Super Bowl, no MVP this time, it was clear I still wanted to play. My time in the league isn't over. My shoulder injury rehabbed like a dream and I know I'm lucky. There's not many guys who could've made it back in the same season. But I did. And I couldn't have done it without the woman derailing the start of her concert to give me praise.

Zack claps my back before hooting and hollering with the rest of the crowd. I look out and see fans clapping and jumping up and down, finding me. Willow's fans knowing when I'm at a concert, or cheering me on like this, will never get old. I wave, trying to show them how thankful I am.

"If you don't mind—" Willow's fingers dance on the piano. "I'd like to switch up the setlist a bit more than usual. Starting with a song that I felt like I was trying to write my whole life, but was only able to finish it recently. The pieces fell into place on a cold October night, on the beach."

The crowd screams, knowing what song is coming next. Tears cloud my vision .

"I hope I'm able to write a thousand more love songs, just like this one, but for now, this is called Our Secret Cove." Willow locks her eyes on mine, for a few long seconds, and I can't move.

I knew it was coming, the piano melody engrained in my DNA, but I still must look up to blink the tears away.

Willow mouths, "I love you," before her hands dance on the keys, playing a song I've heard a thousand times. I'll never get sick of it.

Of her. This life. How lucky I am.

Because sometimes, you fall in love with the girl of your dreams.

And she loves you back.