Chapter 5 Sawyer
FIVE
Sawyer
It'd been a week since I got clocked, and I was doing everything possible to keep my brain from turning to mush.
Five books down. Three audiobooks. Enough podcasts to make a grown man dizzy, and I may or may not have binged Ellie's latest album a few times in my weaker moments.
Okay, probably more than a few.
When you're stuck cooped up in a condo with nothing to do except stare at the same damn four walls, you start to go a little crazy. And doctor's orders? Lie low. No screens. Blue light's the enemy or some shit.
Except lying low had gotten real fucking old real fast. Thank fuck I only had one more week until I'd be back to full clearance.
West and Bronx had come by to keep me company here and there, but they both had their own lives, and I didn't want them to feel like they had to entertain me every moment of the day.
I had thought about heading home to Woodstone Falls to recover, but traveling with a concussion? Not an option, apparently.
Until today, when I got the green light.
As much as I tried to keep myself distracted, my brain kept circling back to Ellie. I tried to shove the whole Ellie Miles is drop-dead gorgeous and the exact kind of person who could ruin a man thing into a locked drawer labeled: danger, do not open.
The damn box popped open anyway.
Usually, when something got too heavy, I'd reroute. Make a joke. Play it easy and keep it light. That was what I'd always done, especially after my mom died. I did back then what a lot of kids did when life stopped making sense—I leaned into the laughter. Doubled down on it, really.
I'd always been the family goofball. I was the one pulling faces in photos, pranking my siblings, and cracking jokes when things got too quiet.
After my mom died, that role became a lifeline.
If I could make people laugh, maybe it would ease the weight of everything.
Maybe it would help them forget how heavy life felt, if just for a little while.
With my older brother, Colt, locked into his default setting of grump, and the twins, Dotty and Dorian, copying him as if it were a competitive sport, someone had to carry the lightness and be the ridiculous one. That became me.
I carried that same survival tactic into dating, never getting too close. Close meant vulnerable. It meant letting someone see behind the jokes.
That's why my years-long crush on Ellie felt oddly safe. She was so far out of my league that it never occurred to me she would be interested, let alone call and ask me out for coffee. But now that she had, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to pull back. Or worse—I wouldn't want to.
I didn't even know the girl. What kind of coffee did she like? Did she take it black? Or was she one of those tea people? Maybe she liked it extra sweet, just like her.
I told her to give me a few days to recover before I was ready to get out of the house, but a week had passed, and nothing.
Maybe she forgot or changed her mind. Hell, maybe I should text her. I wasn't even sure what the hell to say.
Before I could stop myself, my fingers were typing.
ME
So, do you like your coffee sweet, or are you more of a black coffee and nothing else kind of person? Or are you a tea girl?
ELLIE
Um, hi Sawyer, lol. I’m a sweet coffee person. You couldn’t pay me to drink black coffee. What about you?
I start typing…
Same. Fill me with sugar and cream.
Yeah, I backspaced that real fast.
Same. Gimme all the cream and sugar.
Sorry, I haven’t texted you. I’ve been so busy prepping to go back on tour soon.
How’s the concussion recovery going?
It’s all good. A little boring. I’m on the mend. I’m taking it easy, but I’m ready to get back on the field.
I’m glad you’re doing better. When are you free for coffee?
Right now?
Like… right now? It’s ten at night…
No, I’m joking. I mean, yes, I could. I literally have no plans, so whenever you’re free really.
How about tomorrow? 11? You still in San Francisco, right?
Yeah. 11 works
She hearted my message, but I wasn’t done, so I sent another text.
What’s one thing you can’t live without?
Lol. Well, probably music. I’m sure that’s an obvious answer, but it’s true. I can’t go a day without it. I swear, sometimes it’s the only thing that keeps me sane. You?
Would it be lame if I said football?
Not at all.
Well, no, it’s not actually football. I think I’m gonna hang up my helmet after this year. Really, the only thing I couldn’t live without is my family. I would be lost without them.
That sounds nice.
What are you doing right now?
Not much. I’ve been chilling on the couch trying to decide if I want to read or watch tv. You?
Can I call you?
She didn’t respond.
She just called.
Holy shit. Holy shit. She’s calling me. Oh fuck, what do I do? What do I say? Fuck, it keeps ringing. I need to answer. Deep breath. Okay, okay. I got this.
“Hey,” I answered, trying to act casual.
“What’s up? You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. I just… I would rather talk to you than text.” I ran a hand through my hair.
“Oh.”
“Is that okay?”
“Yeah.” She let out a little giggle. “It’s okay.”
“Did you pick?” I asked.
“Pick what?”
“TV or book.”
She hummed. “I was leaning toward reading. I’ve got this book that’s been sitting on my nightstand for weeks. I haven’t had time.”
I grinned. “What’s your most read genre?”
“Thrillers or murder mysteries, probably, but I read some fantasy and romance too. Do you like to read?”
“Not typically, but I’ve been reading a lot this week to keep busy.”
“Oh, nice. What do you like?”
“A little bit of everything. This week, I've read a non-fiction, a romance, a sci-fi, a memoir, and a horror.” I found myself smiling at the phone, imagining the way she might look right now, maybe curled up somewhere cozy. “What do you like about thrillers?”
She laughed this sweet snort-laugh, and I swear, my heart clutched its metaphorical pearls and fainted like an old lady in a soap opera.
“I like trying to figure out the twist before it hits, even if everything falls apart first.”
“That's fair. Life tends to fall apart a lot.”
“Yeah, like when your first kiss with a stranger while being held at gunpoint by a crazy man goes viral.” I could hear the smile in her voice and even picture her biting her lip.
“First kiss?” I asked. “Does that mean there's gonna be a second?”
“Oh my gosh.” She let out a breathless giggle that made me grip the phone tighter.
“But you didn't say no,” I murmured.
“I didn't say yes either.”
“Yet,” I said. “You didn't say yes yet.” I leaned against the couch as my thumb rubbed absent circles on the back of my phone.
“I’m glad you texted me,” she said, her voice softer. “You’re easier to talk to than I expected.”
I chuckled. “I’m not sure if I should be offended or not.”
“Don’t be. You’re not exactly what I pictured, that’s all.”
“Well, I’m always here to talk.”
And somehow, we just…kept talking for hours.
It never felt forced; it was just easy and comfortable in that weird way where neither of us had anything to prove.
The conversation jumped everywhere—music, favorite foods, embarrassing stories we swore we’d never repeat.
She was funny in this dry, low-key way that snuck up on me.
Every time she laughed, it pulled something loose in my chest. I kept catching myself smiling like an idiot, not even caring if she heard it in my voice.
After a while, I asked, “So do you have friends you keep in touch with? I mean, I figure it's gotta be tough with your schedule and, you know...being famous.”
“I do, but most of my friends are just as crazy busy, so we barely see each other. My best friend is actually my publicist. She's amazing, but sometimes, I wonder if she'd still like me if I weren't signing her checks. I mean, she's been with me forever, but…”
“That's gotta be tough, but I'm sure she likes you for you. You seem like the kind of person who's hard to hate.”
There was a pause and then this soft, almost disbelieving laugh. “You don't really know me, though.”
“Not yet, but I trust my instincts.”
“What about you? You seem like the type who probably has fifty friends and some group chat that never sleeps.”
I smiled. “You'd think, right? But nah, I keep my circle pretty small. Mostly family. A couple of teammates I'm close with, but honestly, my siblings and brother-in-law are my best friends. Though our family group chat does get a little crazy sometimes.”
“That's so weird to me,” she said. “Probably 'cause it's just me. No siblings.”
“Really?” Something in her tone made me pay closer attention.
“Yeah…” She trailed off. “My parents, though—they're incredible. They've always been my biggest supporters.”
“That's awesome. So they were on board with the whole music thing from the start?”
“Oh yeah. From the second I showed any talent and said I wanted this, they were all in.” Her words were warm, but there was something underneath—as if the love came with a weight. “They believed in me and backed me every step of the way.”
“That sounds amazing,” I said carefully, “but also maybe...a lot of pressure?”
“Yeah…” She was silent for a beat. “I think when someone believes in you that much, you start living up to their vision. Not because they force it, but because you can't stand the thought of disappointing them.”
“So you did this for them?”
“No,” she said quickly. “I love music. I wanted this.
At least...I thought I did. But lately, I've been wondering if I fell in love with the idea more than the reality, you know? It all seemed so glamorous when I was younger. Maybe I never actually stopped to think about what success would look like if it was just mine.” She exhaled softly.
“Sorry, that was total word vomit. You probably don't want to hear me ramble.”
I found myself smiling. “Don't apologize. Keep going.”
I could listen to you talk for hours.
“I mean, I didn't chase this for them. I chose it. But now...now, I just want to prove everything they sacrificed was worth it.”
I let her words hang there. The Ellie everyone else saw—polished, untouchable, larger than life—wasn't who I was talking to. It felt like I was talking to the girl behind all that.
And honestly? I liked this one way more than the fantasy I'd been chasing since college.
“That is a lot of pressure,” I said finally. “Like you made it to the top of the mountain, but the view isn't what you expected.”
“Exactly,” she said, barely above a whisper. “Don't get me wrong—I'm grateful. I love what I do. But some days, it just feels...heavy.”
I wanted to say something perfect, something that would fix it all, but all I had was the truth.
“Well, for what it's worth, you're crushing it. And if you ever need someone outside all that craziness—someone who doesn't give a shit about charts or PR—I'm here.”
She sighed into the phone. “Thank you, but speaking of PR…”
“Hmm?” I asked, cautiously.
“Well, that’s kind of why I asked you to coffee.”
“For PR?”
“Yeah. My publicist thinks…” She exhaled. “She thinks we should enter a…mutually beneficial pretend dating arrangement. One in which you’d be my…boyfriend.”
My jaw dropped.
I didn’t say anything, mostly because I was too busy trying to remember how to breathe. She kept going, words spilling out fast, as if she was trying to outrun them.
“I was going to wait and bring it up tomorrow, but I figured it’d be easier now. Less chance of anyone overhearing, you know…”
I blinked. Nodded. Said nothing. My brain was still stuck on a pretend dating arrangement.
Fake dating.
Fake dating Ellie Miles.
It wasn’t a bad plan. Coach would love it. The media would eat it up. Fans would stop losing their minds over the body cam footage and start losing it over real footage of us instead.
Plus, fake felt safe—or at least safer than admitting my heart had tried to stage a full-blown jailbreak the second she said you and boyfriend in the same sentence.
I mean, the girl I’ve been low-key crushing on since college just asked me to play her boyfriend? I’d been rehearsing for that role for years in my dreams.
She called it pretend. She could’ve asked me to pretend to be a pet iguana, and I’d have said yes.
“Oh,” was all I managed to say.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I mean—yeah. Sorry, just didn’t expect that. But...I’m in.”
“You’re in? Don’t you want to talk about it first?”
“What’s there to discuss?” I asked.
“Well, it’s obviously helpful to me. My PR’s been a mess since my breakup.” She hesitated. “But what do you want out of this?”
I scratched the back of my neck, chuckling. “Actually…my coach kind of asked me to keep the positive media going. This would help me out, too. That’s kind of why I blew you the kiss.”
“Oh, so it wasn’t genuine?”
“I mean, it definitely still was.”
“But seriously, you don’t have any other terms?”
“No.”
“Really? Nothing?”
“Well…” I smiled.
“Name it.”
“You come home with me sometimes. My family would see right through me if I said I was dating someone and didn’t bring her around. Plus, my niece is obsessed with you. I might retain the favorite uncle spot if I brought you to a family dinner or two.”
“Gracie, right?”
I blinked. “Yeah, you remember?”
“Unfortunately, I remember everything from that night. Kind of hard to forget.”
“Yeah. How are you doing, really? You healed up okay?”
“Yeah. The bullet only grazed me, so it didn’t take long to recover. I took some time off tour, but my first concert back is in a couple of weeks.”
“Can I come to a show?” I asked, almost without thinking.
“Um…sure? If you want to.”
“Want to? I’d love to. I’m gonna go check for tickets right now.” I placed my phone on speaker and Googled her tour dates.
“Don’t. I’ll get you some tickets.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, of course,” she replied. “Just let me know which show.”
“Well…thanks. That’d be nice. My last experience was a little tainted. I’d love a second go.” A yawn escaped me that I couldn’t stop.
“I should probably go to bed, and it sounds like you should too. I’ll text you where to meet me tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Sounds good. I’ll see ya at eleven.”
“Goodnight, Sawyer.”
“Goodnight, Ellie.”
The line went dead.
But for the first time in a while, I felt alive.