CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR SAWYER
C HAPTER T WENTY -F OUR
SAWYER
“So... this feels awkward,” Roarick says as he drives me back to our parents’ vineyard. “You know, since I thought you cleared the air with Fallon.”
“Can we not talk?” I stare out the window of Roarick’s Jeep.
“Sure, we don’t have to talk. We can just sit here and act like nothing of significance happened today.
If that’s what you want. I have other things to talk about, like how Mom and Dad took off to Italy, giving me a day’s notice.
Don’t they know grape season is right around the corner?
Suuuuure , we have staff, and suuuuuure , we don’t technically need to be there, but what if there’s a grape emergency—am I supposed to just handle that on my own?
And if I were to be perfectly frank with you, I’m not even sure I like grapes anymore.
I sure as hell don’t like wine. So what am I really doing with my life, Sawyer? Huh, care to answer that?”
I press my fingers into my temples. “Jesus Christ, just stop talking.”
“It’s cute how you think I can just drive in silence.
I gave you your silent time on the way down the mountain; now you have to deal with all that pent-up chatter.
Hey, I’m hungry. Want some In-N-Out?” He points to the iconic yellow-and-red sign up on the left.
“I could really see myself with a Double-Double and strawberry milkshake.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Too bad, we have to eat.” He veers off to the left, avoiding traffic, and pulls into a long drive-through lane.
“Wow, looks like we have some time before we order. In-N-Out is always busy, for good reason, but man, what should we talk about. Hmmm... something to talk about, something to talk about...”
“Why are you the most annoying human to ever walk the planet?”
“You should be kind to the brother who’s driven all around Southern California for you.”
“It’s hard to be kind when you won’t leave me alone.”
“For good reason.” He grows serious. “You’re clearly hurting, and I’ve seen you hurt before. I’ve seen the way you shrink into yourself, and I’m not going to let that happen again, so let’s just get it all out in the open. Why aren’t you currently back at the hospital with Fallon?”
He’s right. After everything went down between Annalisa and Simon, I did sink into a dark hole. I drew the shades on my life and didn’t come up for air until the studio pulled me out for press. And we all know how that went.
We move forward one car length in the drive-through line, and I know he chose this on purpose, to keep me in his car so I’m forced to talk. This In-N-Out is notorious for taking forever. We’ll be here for at least the next half hour.
Guess there’s only one thing I can do.
“When I arrived, I found Fallon, but she wasn’t alone—she was with Peter.”
“The ex-boyfriend?”
“Yeah.” I smooth my hand over my mouth.
“Uh-oh, I’m guessing your jealousies roared to life in the nastiest of ways.”
“You could say that,” I say. “Accused her of moving on to another man.” God, just thinking about the things I said to her makes me so goddamn sick to my stomach.
And I know I projected my past relationship and mistrust onto Fallon when she least deserved it, when she’s shown me nothing but loyalty.
And here I thought I’d mentally recovered from the drama of Annalisa and Simon, but looks like I still have some work to do.
Roarick lets out a low whistle. “Oh yeah, that hurts.”
“Didn’t even ask her how Sully was.”
“Yikes, dude.”
“And then in a panic apologized after she told me to choose my words carefully.”
Roarick rubs his chest. “Damn, I think I’m having secondary chest pains. Is that a thing?”
“No.” I shake my head. “But if you want an example of a massive fuckup, this would be it.”
“Oh yeah, easily. This goes down in history as one of man’s greatest idiotic moments, because you and I both know she wasn’t getting back with Peter.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“He was probably just a friendly face, someone to lean on.”
“Yup,” I answer.
“And when she saw you, she was probably so relieved—until you opened your mouth.”
“Can’t argue there.”
“So, we agree, you’re a moron.”
I slowly nod my head. “Yeah.”
“And that you dumped all your past trauma on Fallon, accusing her of something she’d never do because your brain decided she must be acting exactly like Annalisa did when you were with her.”
I heave out a “Yup.”
“Ah, classic damaged-hero mistake. Instead of pausing, taking a breath, and using his brain, he reacts like a fool, creating the dark moment that everyone dreads but also looks forward to—who doesn’t enjoy dancing in someone else’s pain?
I do. honestly, I could bust out in a Frank Sinatra–inspired tap number, cane and top hat included.
Kind of funny how you write these romantic movies that everyone fawns over, and now you’re living it, making the same dumb mistakes. ”
“Have you been studying up on screenplays or something? Jesus.”
“No.” He pulls forward another spot. “Just watching a lot of movies lately. You’d be surprised to hear Jaz is a closet rom-com fan, so I’ve been watching her favorites.”
“I thought you only spoke to her in meme form.”
“Yeah, for the most part—there’s something so special about picking the right meme to convey how you’re feeling.”
“It’s lazy.”
“Romantic advice... really, Sawyer ?”
“Fuck off,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Mature, very mature.” He falls silent for a few seconds, and I welcome it, but it doesn’t last long. “You need to apologize to her.”
“I know.”
“Sooner rather than later.”
“Plan on it.”
“Maybe include some sort of grand gesture.”
I shake my head. “That’s where you’re wrong.
I’ve already performed the grand gestures.
This isn’t a moment where I don’t knock down the community center like in Two Weeks Notice or proclaim my love in front of the entire company like in The Proposal .
This needs to be an intimate apology, a meaningful one. ”
“Sooo, you don’t want me to call up my friend Huxley Cane who owns Cane Enterprises in LA and ask him if he can connect me with his billboard guy? Set up a fivefold campaign that shows how apologetic you are so when she drives home, she’ll see your face on every corner?”
“I honestly can’t stand you.”
He chuckles. “Sad, because I fucking love myself.”
It’s obvious.
Roarick leans back in his chair and pats his stomach. “Fucking animal-style—does it get any better than that?”
We’re sitting out on the patio of our parents’ house, looking out over the lush green vineyard.
As I watched my brother devour his food like a goddamn beast, all I could think about was how much I wished Fallon was with me here instead.
She’d love this view—the sun setting over the endless rows upon rows of vines that disappear over the hill.
“You’re gross.”
“Please, as if you didn’t burp while taking down your single cheeseburger. Sorry about the tomato, by the way; In-N-Out always gets the order correct.”
It’s just my luck that they didn’t remove the tomato on my burger. That’s the universe telling me I deserve it after today.
I took my penance and flicked it into the to-go bag.
“So, what’s the plan?” Roarick asks.
“I don’t know.”
“Wow, can’t wait to see you win her back with that. Call the Nobel Peace Prize committee—I think we have an entry based merely on thought.”
The snarky comments. The sarcasm. The annoying wit of my brother is tipping me over the edge. I’m about to toss my chair at him when I hear someone clearing their voice behind us.
In tandem, both Roarick and I turn around to find Jaz standing behind us, hands folded in front of her, looking... nervous.
Actually nervous.
I’m not sure I’ve ever seen this side of Jaz. She’s either aggressive, sarcastic, or barely tolerating my presence. But this side, this uneasiness, is new. She’s showing a vulnerable side that I didn’t think existed.
“Sugarplum, what are you doing here?” Roarick asks.
Sugarplum? What the hell is that?
“I need to talk to Sawyer.”
“Sure,” Roarick says, standing. His voice has morphed from that of sarcastic asshole to concerned loved one. “You can have my seat.” When Jaz walks over to us, Roarick places his hand on her hip and leans down, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “You look good.”
Uh, what the hell is happening? I thought they were just texting—I didn’t think there was anything actually going on.
“Thank you,” she murmurs before taking a seat.
Roarick gathers our trash and leaves us to ourselves. Once he’s out of earshot, Jaz’s eyes connect with mine. “I need to tell you how sorry I am, Sawyer.”
Well. She just shocked the hell out of me.
I’m tempted to make a scene by wiggling my finger in my ear to see if I heard her right, but I refrain. No one likes a gloater. Jaz most likely doesn’t tolerate them.
“I should have given you a chance to explain before jumping to conclusions,” she continues.
“Miscommunication never helps anyone, and here I was, participating in it. Not that it’s an excuse, but I was frazzled that Sully was hurt, and when I saw you with Annalisa, I could only think that you were cheating on my best friend. I just... lost my cool.”
“I understand the feeling,” I say before sighing and slouching in my chair. “I did the same thing to Fallon.”
“So I heard.” She glances out toward the vineyard.
“I don’t want to admit it, but I think we have a lot more in common than I like to lead on.
We’ve both been hurt, we’ve both had our trust broken, and we both hold insecurities that were brought on by others.
” She turns toward me now, eyes wide and concerned, and I realize this is the most real I’ve ever seen Jaz.
Yes, she’s fun, she’s kind of crazy, and that can be charming in a friendship, but there’s no doubt in my mind that this side of Jaz—the vulnerable side—is why Fallon is friends with her.
“Let’s make a promise to each other, moving forward, that we won’t let other people’s shortcomings ruin our lives.
” She lends out her hand, and without giving it a second thought, I take it.
“Deal,” I say, shaking on it.
When we release hands, she says, “I really am sorry, and I’ll do everything I can to help you fix this.”
I take a deep breath, feeling relieved for the first time since Fallon banished me from the hospital. “Does this mean we’re past the probation period and are now officially friends?”
She smirks. “It does.” She points her finger at me. “But you’ll always be Julia to me.”
I shrug. “I’ve kind of grown fond of the name.”
“Good.” She leans back in her seat. “Now, let’s formulate a plan, because I’m never going to be able to forgive myself if you two don’t make up.”
“Same, Jaz ... same.”
She smiles at my use of her nickname, and to my surprise, she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she pulls out her phone and starts hashing out a plan with me.