Griffin:Shoot! Late to practice! Gotta go.
As he sprints toward the field, helmet in hand, Griffin wonders if she’ll reply. If she’ll send the message she was typing when the dots scrolled or if she’ll delete that and respond only to his message about having to run. Maybe she won’t respond at all.
Griffin drops into line and joins in the stretching routine.
Elliott looks over from beside him, his arm pulled across his chest and held in place. “You all right? It’s not like you to be late.”
“I wasn’t late. I was just later than usual.” Griffin can’t help but smile. He did technically make it on time, and he also got to chat with Aria before practice.
It’s the best of both worlds.
Elliott laughs. “Alrighty. Just don’t let whatever this is throw you off your game.”
Griffin nods, but before he can reply, the coach takes the field and greets the team. Griffin has never allowed anythingin his life to interfere with football, always fiercely focused on his goal of making it and succeeding in the league. At some point hebecamethe sport. But now, with Aria’s arrival into his life, his view is undoubtedly being opened up. The time they spend together pulls him out of his rigidity and inspires him to see the broadness of life.
If ever there was a time when something—or someone—might ever-so-briefly distract him from the game, it’s now, and it’s Aria Wilder.
Chapter 24
Aria
When Griffin’s hurried text about running off to practice comes through, Aria is in the process of typing out a message to invite him over to see the studio. Only once she hit Send on that text about their “arrangement” did she realize her misstep—that might suggest there was nothing between the two of them beyond the scheduled events. Even if she’s been pushing away a heart flutter here or there around him—okay,morethan here or there—it’s undeniable that they’re actual friends at this point. Even if the formal appearances are orchestrated by the publicity teams, the fun that happens between them is genuine.
Aria truly and wholeheartedly likes Griffin.
She replies first to his hasty message.
Aria:Oops! Sorry to keep you.
Aria takes her time with the next message, knowing he won’t get it until he’s back at his locker. She types and edits, and eventually she hits Send.
Aria:Would you want to come see the studio this week? When we were chatting on the field—a moment now so rudely broadcast online—you mentioned you’d like to see more about the process. Honestly, it can really help to have fresh, positive energy in the space, so perhaps you’ll even lend some inspiration. Let me know.
Aria slips into some exercise wear and bundles a coat over the top. She pulls on long socks before donning her tennis shoes and pressing her earbuds into her ears. She pushes out of her front door to take a walk around the property.
The leaves are ablaze in a fall mix of reds, oranges, yellows, and browns, and the cold air feels good against her face. Like it’s waking her up to the world. She puts on a podcast about mindfulness and meditation and heads for the short trail that loops the wooded part of her land. She’s always looking for respite from the bright lights, the sequins, the heavy makeup—a place or a moment where she can simply be. Sometimes these walks even bring moments of musical inspiration as well.
When Aria returns to the house an hour later, she warms up with a shower and gets dressed in her most comfortable jeans and a sweater.
Bailey is in the kitchen blending a smoothie when Aria enters the room.
“I invited Griffin over,” Aria says, pulling open the fridge. “He’s at practice, so he won’t reply until later.”
Bailey keeps her hands planted firmly on the blender but looks over her shoulder at her sister. “Yeah? What’s it for this time?”
It’s not that Aria has been hiding things from Bailey. The depth of her friendship with Griffin is all over the internet for anyone with a Wi-Fi signal to see. But she also hasn’t yet divulged the rest.
“Just . . . because.”
“What? Like, you’re actually friends? I get that he’s a good guy under the football pads, but you’re not a friendship person like that.”
Aria emerges from the fridge with a juice in hand and swats playfully at Bailey. “Hey, now! Remember all the weirdness I endured over the years at the hands of ‘friends’? Maybe you could be happy that I actually found a friend I can trust.”
Bailey sighs. “Fair.”
Many of the friends Aria had before she hit it big fell away when she started to edge truly into the public eye. Maybe it was jealousy or difficulty in relating to her new lifestyle, but not one of those relationships endured. There were also the new friends Aria made around the same time, and all of those turned out to be people less interested in her and more interested in the doors her fame could open for them. Once Aria was in the public eye—and from such a young age—it became difficult to trust others. She was friends with some other Hollywood types—a few actresses, another singer, and a model—but all of them eventually moved to LA. Generally they saw each other at award shows or fashion events—when Aria summoned the energy to make it to them.
“There’s something about Griffin that’s different.” Aria leans onto the counter, the bottle pressed between her palms. “He knows the fame game, so he’s obviously not a grifter. But he’s also a regular person. There’s none of the fake bravado or the one-upping or the ‘too cool’ attitude. He’s kind, and we laugh together. Besides you, he’s the only person I’ve been able to let my guard down around.”
