“I don’t think you need advice. You already know what you need to do.” Griffin says it gently, like it’s a natural conclusion as opposed to a command.
Aria drops her head to the side to get a look at Griffin. Beside her he doesn’t look like the professional football player the public knows and loves; he looks like her dear friend. One who deserves all the same good he wishes upon her.
“And as for you, maybe you can spread your wings too. Get involved in some things outside of football. Foster a snake from the animal shelter.”
“Can’t say I’m a reptile guy, but I agree. Like they say, football isn’t forever, so at some point, I need to figure myself out. Let’s just hope I’m not disappointed by what I find.”
For a guy so capable and genuine, Griffin is a bit of a dummy when it comes to understanding himself. Surely it’s as obvious to everyone else in his life as it is to Aria.
“I know I joke a lot, Griff, but I mean it. As soon as you open yourself up to new things, life will meet you there with a whole menu of options. The only thing limiting who you are is your tunnel vision.”
Griffin sighs. “It’s hard to become something new when you’ve worked your whole life to become another thing.”
“Like a wise person once told me, ‘If there’s anyone that can do it, it’s you.’”
Griffin looks over, grinning. “Using my own words against me? Sneaky but effective. I promise I’ll give it some work.”
“I’m always here to brainstorm. It’s basically part of my job in the scope of songwriting.”
Both of them look back to the dome above them.
“It must be a lot of work behind the scenes, writing the songs, getting the music right, and then having all the producers weigh in to get it ready for release. I’ve always wondered what goes into making a song from start to finish.”
A rush of energy that feels very much like electricity runs through Aria. She can’t remember the last time a friend or acquaintance had any interest in the less glamorous parts of her job. Usually the friends—the few she actually kept for any amount of time—fell away when it came to hours in the studio, reappearing when it was time for the parties or the celebrity-studded red carpets.
“I’m sure somewhere between these appearances I can give you a rundown.” Aria tries hard to sound unaffected and cool.
“Lucky me.”
Aria turns her head toward Griffin, and he’s already looking at her. Their eyes lock, and her heart picks up. She won’t look away, not when his gaze is so intense that it lights her up. The world in that moment seems to slow, to zoom in on just the two of them, and in the middle of it, the brush of his hand against hers on the turf breaks their eye contact.
Griffin tangles his fingers into hers. “I believe in you, Aria.” He squeezes, then takes his hand away.
Her breath is so shallow and rapid that it’s almost gone entirely, so much so that it feels like time is warping, but eventually she finds her wherewithal.
“I believe in you too, Griff. Seriously, give yourself a chance, and you’ll be amazed byyououtside of football.”
And with a loud metallicclanglike a lever being thrown, the lights around the field go out, and they’re cast into darkness.
“Time to load out!” The producer’s voice calls from somewhere over in the hidden corridors of the tunnel.
Finally, with grinning faces, Aria and Griffin get to their feet to leave the field.
Never before has she wanted to stay longer on any sporting field, but here at Griffin’s side in the darkness, speaking truths to one another, she might just be able to stay forever.
Chapter 23
Griffin
Griffin is typically as strict about his phone-free practice policy as he is his diet, but when Aria texts the day after the commercial while he’s in the locker room before he hits the field, he can’t help but break it. He’s been replaying their moment on the field over and over in his mind, and despite going back and forth, he’s decided he’s glad he reached out and took Aria’s hand. It wasn’t overtly romantic—well, at least that’s what he’s telling himself—but he feels less like he’s about to combust now that he’s made a small gesture of his feelings for her.
Admittedly, Griffin knows it’s unrealistic that the genuine care he feels for her would amount to anything between them. But he also wants her to know that at this point, it’s far more than just PR between them from where he stands.
Aria:I had a dream last night that I was performing, and someone in the crowd threw a bottle of Level Upat me. Hit me in the head, and I had to be airlifted out. I just HAD to tell you!
Griffin smiles to himself.
Griffin:Hopefully it wasn’t me lobbing it at you in the dream. I can’t promise I won’t sing along, but I’d never throw things at you—concert or not.
