34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Willow

It’s only a few hours later before my publicist calls, giving me a heads-up about the headlines. None of them are from reputable sources, but it doesn’t mean people won’t see them.

And She’s on to the Next: Willow Picks Up Her Next Boytoy

Will a Player Get Played? Willow Dating NFL Player Tripp Owens

Willow’s Career Might Be Stalled but Not Her Love Life

Tripp Owens Uses Force with Paparazzi

It’s the last one that stings. Tripp did not use force. Everyone could tell how much he was holding back. No one was violent. That’s the thing about the press, no one cares what really happened, they only care about clicks.

I text Tripp to give him a heads-up, including the link to the last headline.

What a shift.

Yesterday was one of the best days I’ve had in a long time. The game. Meeting Tripp’s mom. Hanging with the team. My night with Tripp.

Nothing like a nice reality check with a bunch of strangers who live to take you down a notch, whenever they can. It’s part of the deal. I know that. I love my life and the ability to create. Sadly, the press comes with it .

What if it gets to be too much for Tripp? I could tell by the way he took it all in, that’s not a normal interaction for him. The thought runs and tumbles in my brain. Nagging me.

He said I was worth it today. How long will that last?

When my brain won’t stop, there’s always something that helps. Music. I take myself to the studio and get to work.

I’ve been in the zone the last few hours. New music. New verses. It feels good to be productive. My phone vibrates.

Tripp

uses force lol

that’s a piss poor headline

didn’t even use a football pun

missed opportunity

Me

glad you think it’s funny

how else am I going to be? doesn’t bother me

Really? Not even a little?

Not even a little

I’m done with meetings

plan for tonight?

hoping to collect on a bet

??

did you already forget the touchdowns?!

you owe me music baby!

ahhh that bet

Tomorrow is my day off. That means I can stay over

not sick of me yet?

quit it

plus, the hot tub is calling my name

see you soon. I’m working in the studio

i’ll tell Seth to let you in

My cheeks pinch from smiling.

Tripp cautiously opens the door to the studio, like he’s trying to not disturb me. When he sees me sitting with a guitar, but taking a break, he walks to me and kisses my cheek.

“How’s the writing today?”

“Surprisingly good,” I say, taking the guitar off and setting it next to me.

“Don’t stop on my account.”

“No, I need a break.”

“Well, then I’ve got perfect timing,” he says while sitting next to me.

I lean into him and he wraps an arm around my shoulders.

“I’m very excited about the music sneak peek though. Not going to even try to lie.”

“Ahh. That makes one of us.” I cover my eyes with one of my hands. “I never play music early for people. Like, it makes me cringe. Getting that first reaction on something. From someone who counts.”

“Someone who counts, huh?” He leans into me and squeezes my shoulder.

Why did I say that? I swear, sometimes my brain just runs from one thought to the other. Heat creeps up my neck and part of me wishes I’d melt into the floor.

Tripp uses two fingers to tip my face to his and puts his lips on mine.

“I like being someone who counts,” he says in between kisses, a massive grin pulling at his lips.

I keep falling deeper and deeper. Every time he says something like this, it’s like the magnetic pull gets stronger. Not even the words he says, but how he says it. He means it.

“Alright, let’s get this over with. I have two complete songs and a snippet of another that are ready for playback. I change the output on the soundboard so it will play through the whole studio and not my headphones.

Tripp rubs his hands together and sits up tall.

Music fills the studio. The first two are piano only and the partial song is on guitar. I pace while my voice comes in and out. I can play it for him but the farther I am from him the better. My heart races and my hands shake a bit.

We’re in the middle of the second song when I steal the quickest of glances. Tripp has his eyes closed, a smile on his face, and he’s sort of swaying with the beat. This reaction eases my anxiety, just a bit.

I love the bridge for this one. It’s one that fell out of my brain, onto the piano keys, and hit me in the right spot while I was writing. I mouth the words as they play.

You and I dance, under the night sky,

nothing but a gleam

Entwined, a fleeting moment, on the fringe

of this cosmic dream

Each star, its own, bright beauty

In the spaces between

We dance and you kiss me like it counts,

A promise unseen

The music stops. Tripp stands up and, to my horror, claps.

“Stop it.” I put my hand on my forehead, pretending to hide from him.

“I will not. This is a fan’s dream! I am living the dream.” He walks toward me. “Willow, this is so good. The piano is delicate and powerful and ugh, you sound so good when you sing with the piano.”

“It’s still rough, lots of work to be done, and things to smooth out.”

“Your rough version is better than many people’s polished. Seriously. ”

“That is one of the kindest things someone has said to me. Thank you.” And it is. People tell me the music is good, the lyrics make sense, they feel something. Tripp has given me such lovely feedback in just a few minutes after a couple songs.

“I know you don’t like playing things early but thank you. I won’t forget it. Especially when the new stuff is all over the radio, taking over the world. I’ll know I was one of the people to hear it first.”

“Tripp Owens. What am I going to do with you?” I say with flushed cheeks as he reaches for my hands.

“Well, first, I say we soak our troubles away in the hot tub. And then, I have a few other ideas.” He smirks, mischievous and gorgeous, all at once.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.