Page 46 of Wake Me Up
Tripp: I’ll keep it PG, I swear.
Me: Okay.
A few minutes later, he’s calling me, and even though I’m still a little shaky and out of breath, I slide my thumb across the screen to answer.
“Hi,” I say bashfully.
“Oh, hey,” he replies in a teasing voice. “Sorry it took me a second. Had to … rinse off in the shower.”
“Wow, that was a quick shower.”
“Well, I didn’t have to fuck my hand since I had already done that,” he drawls assertively, making me squirm yet again.
I swallow. “What happened to PG?” I ask, feeling my cheeks heat up.
“My bad.”
The sound of rustling hits my ear, making me frown.
“What are you doing? Sounds like you’re being attacked.”
“Getting dressed,” he answers nonchalantly.
“You could have gotten dressed before you called me, you know?” I say, baffled that he felt the need to hurry. “That way, you didn’t feel rushed.”
“Didn’t want to keep you waiting, darlin’,” he drawls slowly. “Plus, I figured, the longer I left you alone with your own thoughts, the more likely you would be to ghost me again. This seemed safer.”
I don’t understand it—how the man the country paints as being grumpy could also be the man who gives my son private lessons, brought me and my daughter treats at the hospital to brighten our day, married me so that I could afford surgery for Aviana, took my sons to a batting cage sothat Cane didn’t feel excluded, and now … rushed to get dressed so that he didn’t keep me waiting.
“You still there, or did you turn into Casper?” he murmurs into the phone.
“I’m here,” I say, fighting back a smile.
And as I snuggle in my bed, chatting on the phone with a boy the way I did when I was a young teenager, I try to remind myself that it’s okay to enjoy this. It doesn’t change how much I love Jamie or the fact that I’d give anything to bring him back.
And while we laugh and talk about anything from favorite foods, places we’ve traveled, or things we’ve seen, I make a vow that I’m going to allow myself to be selfish for a little while. I’m going to accept this gift that is Tripp Talmage.
“You’re, like, weirdly happy today,” Kolt says, eyeing me over. “I don’t get it.”
Kolt is the most like me on the team, except he looks way more terrifying than I do. He’s covered in tattoos, and he has a way of scaring the fuck out of our opponents without saying a word. He’s got this icy stare that goes with his huge-ass muscles, and I think I least expected him, out of everyone, to get injured to the point of being out the entire season.
“Am not,” I toss back. “That’s all you, brother. Don’t feel bad. If I had a wife and she returned to play nurse for me when I got hurt, I’d be a happy fucker too.”
“Yeah, I mean, having a heart attack kind of sucked, but it did bring Paige back to me … so can I really be angry at the dude who hit me or my ol’ ticker?” He pats his chest. “I think not.” His expression turns serious when he narrows his eyes. “Back to you, my friend. Why is your face doing this strange thing I think normal people call smiling?”
“It’s not.” I lace my right skate up tightly. “You’re just happy so you think everyone else is too, bud.”
“Wouldn’t have anything to do with that doughnut lady, would it?” he drawls, popping a Starburst in his mouth and keeping his eyes set on me. “Because you seemed pretty fond of her, and also … I’ve never had anyone bring my ass an assortment of baked goods.” He chuckles. “Not even my wife.”
“Nah. Didn’t you hear?” Smith chimes in from God knows where. “Talmage and Sterns rescued her when her tire was flat. She wanted to repay them.” His voice stops from behind me. “Though I will say, she’s wife material. Did you try one of her scones? Fucking life-changing. And don’t even get me started on the cinnamon rolls.”
“That’s right. I just so happened to be in the right place at the right time.” I shrug casually. “She’s a nice lady and wanted to thank Logan andme for helping her out.” I raise a brow. “And then all of you greedy fucks reaped the benefits by stuffing your faces.”
Kolt doesn’t seem to be buying anything we’re saying, even though, in Smith’s defense, he doesn’t know I’ve kind of become a bit infatuated with this woman or just how deep I really am.
Finishing up my left skate, I stand up. “All right, enough gossiping, you lazy fucks. Let’s get to work.”
“We still on for drinks tonight?” Smith calls behind me as he follows me out of the locker room.
