The crowd applauds.
“Aria, have you always been a football fan?”
“Probably to little surprise, no. But I just watched the game yesterday, and I was very proud of the Wardens. The guys fought well, but it wasn’t their night.”
Griffin has emerged from the couch next to her. “Really?”
All of this is for show—both of them know it—but something about the way Griffin says it lets Aria know that he’s genuinely asking.
“Of course. I wanted to support my friend. I had heard it was going to be a tough game, and what do friends do if not support each other?”
Admittedly, Aria could’ve skipped watching the game and caught the highlights this morning, but she wanted to see it herself. She can’t help but press herself into this role of friend; it’s more fun than she’s had in a long time.
“Well, let me know if you want to come to the stadium. I’ve got excellent friends and family box seats, and the nachos up there are top notch.”
“You had me at nachos.” Aria smiles over at him, and heat blossoms in her chest. The smile, the fun, it’s all thrumming inside her like something very real.
“And don’t skip the jalapeños.”
“What, are they fancy?”
“They’reWardensjalapeños, so, yes?”
“Dang. I definitely don’t have my own line of spicy peppers.” Aria looks off and cups her chin thoughtfully. “I’ve got to make a note on my phone to ask my publicist about that.”
“So,” Griffin starts, then stops, and when Aria turns to look into his eyes, they glint at her. It feels like an invitation. To what? She’s not sure. Probably fun and friendly. Still, there’s an edge to the way he speaks next that makes her wonder if there’s more. A thrill rushes through her like a sizzle of electricity. “Can I count on you at the Wardens’ stadium on Sunday?”
Aria’s heart takes off beating quicker, and her breath catchesin her throat. It’s like how she feels at the end of a concert, after going full out on the grand finale, giving it her all. But tonight she’s simply sitting here, still and unmoving. The only force encompassing her is Griffin Hayes’s indisputable presence.
“Absolutely. All I need is fan wear.”
“A number 13 jersey will be on your doorstep tomorrow.”
Aria’s insides balloon with lightness. A jersey with his number feels like being invited into a special club. Sure, there are thousands of 13 Wardens jerseys out there—Griffin has his own contingent of fans—but one hand-delivered is a special friend perk.
“You’re such a good friend, Griff,” Aria says, feeling the truth in each word as she says it. “I’m such a lucky lady!”
“The pleasure’s all mine.” Griffin’s voice rumbles deeply in his reply, and their eyes stay locked on each other. He grins. “Hopefully the fans will capture your own viral moment this time. You know, to repay the favor.”
Aria bursts into laughter, the belly-deep kind that’s usually reserved for Bailey. “I guess it would only be fair.”
“Well, thank you both, Aria Wilder and Griffin Hayes, for coming onThe Late Night Show. We can’t wait to continue watching your budding friendship online.” Mario looks into the camera, and it slides closer to him. “I’m Mario Villarreal, and this isThe Late Night Show. Good night, everyone.”
“Cut!” the stage manager shouts.
The crowd begins to chatter, phones pulled out to check notifications, and Griffin rests back onto the couch, letting his head fall backward.
Aria just watches him. This interest of hers is growing. Undeniably so. She feels new things around Griffin. Is this whatreal friendship feels like? Has she never experienced it the right way? Or could this be... something else?
Griffin pulls himself upright, and Aria rushes to look away, hiding her lingering eyes. “Hey. Want to grab something to eat after this?” he asks.
“So the ‘treat yourself’ thing was legit?”
He shrugs. “Only on special occasions.”
“You’re on.”
The same young man wearing the sweats arrives back at their side, and the two are escorted offstage. Only this time, both of them hurry behind him without any prodding required.
