12 years ago
Tripp
“Wait here, I’ll go change and we can get going.”
It is my first time at Wes’s house, and I am perfectly fine staying put. Everything I’ve seen so far is too shiny, too nice. I don’t want to run the risk of tracking mud into a room I shouldn’t be in while dirty from lacrosse practice.
“Yeah, sure,” I agree, leaning over the kitchen island and resting my forearms on the counter.
“Help yourself to whatever, there’s a drink fridge below you in the island,” Wes points to the miniature appliance before disappearing from the room.
He’s barely reached the stairs when the back door swings open and the cutest girl I’ve ever seen bounds inside. She’s so dainty, easily a foot shorter than me, with the tiniest little frame and the tiniest little pink sundress. She looks breathtaking, her dark skin illuminated by the sun pouring in from the wall of windows, light catching the rich copper hues of her eyes.
I’m blatantly staring when those eyes notice me, a shy smile stretching across her face and delicate fingers tucking a loose black curl back behind her ear. The sudden urge to be the one taming the freed strand of hair washes over me, and I jolt up as she approaches.
“Hi, you must be—” I begin as I straighten. But I pass too near the pendant light over the island and frantically dodge my head to the side to miss it.
“Are you okay? Did you hit it?” she asks, rushing towards me with worry creasing her brow.
Looking away from the light fixture, heat floods my body when I find her standing at my side. One of her dress straps has started to slip from her shoulder from the way she hurried over to me.
“No,” I breathe. “I’m good. Sorry.” I can’t think straight. I can’t form a real thought. She’s so near that I notice the flutter of her long eyelashes as she blinks up at me.
“You must be on my brother’s team,” she says softly, catching the strap of her sundress before it slides all the way down her shoulder. I track the movement with laser focus, wondering how soft her skin would be if I had been the one to catch that strap.
“How did you know?” I look back up to see her gaze sweeping over my chest, amusement tugging at her lips. Right. I’m wearing the mesh practice pinnie that reads Foxport Lacrosse.
“Lucky guess,” she giggles pointing to the team logo I’m sporting.
I clear my throat and nod. “You’re Wes’s sister?”
“Ivy,” she confirms. “And you are?”
“Tripp. I’m Tripp. It’s nice to meet you, Ivy.” I hold out my hand to finally introduce myself. And when her delicate hand locks onto mine, electricity shoots up my arm, straight to my heart.
Nice to meet her is an understatement.