Page 92 of Your Play to Call

“I don’t know if it gets better than this.” Tripp is the first to speak. His voice smooth like caramel.

“This place is beautiful. I love that you have this secret.”

“We. We have this secret.”

We. Swoon. I melt into his side, and he kisses the top of my head.

“From Champagne diversions to this. Who would’ve thought?” I joke and look up at him for his reaction.

“Youknowthat was a great diversion,” he says, looking down at me, the flames of the fire reflecting in his eyes.

“It really was,” I agree and drink my cider, before putting the cup on the end table next to me.

“Ready for that adventure?” he asks, rubbing his hands together.

“This wasn’t the adventure?” I look up to him as he stands and reaches out his hand.

“Lo, this is a patio. No.” He shakes his head and pulls me to my feet. “There’s the adventure.”

And he points to the beach.

Chapter 49

Tripp

I finally feel likeI’ve got it right. Sharing this place, this part of me, with Willow. Her hand in mine, plus the smell of the seawater, makes me feel right at home.

We run to the beach, making quick work of the distance, while her hair whips around her face. She laughs once we get to the sand, close to the water.

Get yourself a girl that will run with you, even when she doesn’t know where we’re going.

“What are we doing?” She breathes heavily, giggling, trying to keep her hair out of her face.

“Take off your shoes. And socks.” I reach for mine and start to untie and take them off. I shove my socks in my shoes and then throw them on the sand.

“You’re serious.” She watches me with her hands on her hips.

“Yes! Come on. Take ‘em off,” I playfully plead, and I know I’ve won when a wide smile cracks her lips.

When we’re both barefoot in the sand, I reach for her hand and take off towards the water. Unseasonably warm or not, the beach in October is a special kind of cold—the type that steals your breath and immediately wakes you up.

Tonight, I’m wide awake.

“Oh my god! It’s so cold.” She kicks the water with her feet and then splashes me—the water like tiny icicles.

“That’s what we’re doing, huh?” And before I get the last word out, she’s already running in the sand, right where the water meets the beach.

I chase her, even when she tries to zig zag and throw me off.

“Baby, you forget, this is my job.” She turns my way and is trying to get past me. To be fair, if I wasn’t a professional athlete, shemightbe able to get by me.

I catch her and she screams. I pick her up, throw her over my shoulder, and start walking further into the water. It’s an unforgiving type of cold but it doesn’t beat the sound of her chuckling, losing her breath, and saying my name.

“Tripp! What are you doing?!” Her laugh is contagious and now I’m shaking with laughter. The water hits mid-calf, the farthest I planned to go, but she doesn’t need to know that. I set her down in front of me, the water reaching higher up her leg.

She squeals because it’s cold but uses her hand to splash me. The ocean water hits my face, and I can hear the splash of her running as she bolts for the sand.

“Catch me if you can,” she yells over her shoulder. Her hair bounces, illuminated by the moonlight.

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