Chapter 6 Ellie #2
“I’m tired, burnt out, and guilty, even though I know I shouldn’t be.”
“Guilty?”
“For taking a break. For needing one. For getting shot and not bouncing back overnight like I’m supposed to.”
He frowned. “Ellie…”
“I know,” I blurted out. “I know it’s not rational, but this job doesn’t leave much room for recovery. I didn’t even get a full week off before people started speculating if I’d gone off the rails. So…I’m a little exhausted lately.”
He nodded slowly. “I’m sorry. That’s a lot to carry.”
I shrugged. “Part of the gig.”
“Still, it sucks. Being tired all the time from doing something you’re supposed to love. I get it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Football’s been my whole life, but lately, it’s taken more than it gives. This is my last year, and I keep wondering who I’ll be when it’s over.”
My heart pulled a little. “I think you’d still be you.”
“Thanks,” he said with a sheepish smile. “You excited for your tour to be ending in a few months?”
“Yeah, it'll be nice. I'm always running and traveling, so it will be good to relax a little.”
“Any plans after?” There was something careful in his voice, as if he wasn't sure he should ask.
“I’ve got another album I'm working on, so I’ll probably finish that up.”
“Do you sleep, or do you just dream in chord progressions?”
I laughed. “I can’t help it if I’m brushing my teeth or something and suddenly, there are some lyrics in my head that won't leave me alone.”
“Do you think you'll ever want to slow down?”
I ran my finger along the rim of my coffee cup, trying to line my thoughts up in the right order.
I used to think I’d know when I’d made it, like there would be some moment where the Grammy, the chart spots, all the big wins would finally feel like enough.
Truthfully, I didn’t know what I was chasing anymore.
“I want to slow down,” I whispered, “but I’m not sure I’m ready to be done.”
“What do you see for yourself when you settle down?”
“God, I don’t even know anymore.”
“Did you ever think about it? You know, before everything changed?”
“Yeah, I used to.”
He cocked his head. “Do tell.”
I let out a breathy laugh. “Okay, this is going to sound kind of silly, but when I was little, I used to dream about living on a bunch of land. Like, a big open field with wildflowers and maybe a few dogs. I’d be lying in the grass with my guitar, writing songs while a baby napped next to me.
And my husband, who would obviously be very cute and very obsessed with me, would bring me lemonade.
” I shrugged, still smiling. “I don’t know if that’s still in the cards for me anymore, but little me was committed to the vision. ”
“You don’t want that now?”
“I don’t know.” I sighed. “Things are different now. What about you? What does next year look like for you?”
“Ah, good deflection.” He shook his head and smiled.
“I could retire comfortably and never work another day if I wanted. Perks of the NFL and having a good financial advisor when I was young. Now, I don’t know.
I want to relax for a bit, rest my body.
Who knows? Maybe I’ll finally use my degree for something. ”
“What’s your degree in?”
“Education.”
“Really?”
“Yup, I always liked kids and teaching. I figured it’d be an easy thing to fall back on. Plus, summers off. Big bonus there.”
“Definitely a plus.”
Sawyer cleared his throat and tapped his fingers on the table. “I like this. Getting to know you. I mean, we should probably be friends if we’re gonna be pretending to date each other.”
“You mean we can’t just wing it and hope our fake love story magically makes sense?”
“I’m charming, not magical.”
“That’s debatable,” I muttered, hiding a smile.
He leaned back, watching me. “Seriously, though. I think we should actually talk. Call each other when we’re on the road. Share the boring stuff—what we had for breakfast, annoying publicist emails, weird dreams…”
“So, like… long distance besties with a fake dating clause?”
“See, you get it.” He winked. “I mean, if we show up together and can’t name each other’s families or favorite foods, we’re screwed.”
I nodded. “Okay. That makes sense. I like it.”
“Plus,” he said, a little softer, “I want to be your friend. This would feel kind of hollow if we weren’t.”
“Okay, then I’ll be yours too.”
A slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Good. I’m excellent friend material.”
“Oh yeah? What all do I get with that package?”
“Middle of the night pep talks. Bodyguard duties. And I’m not saying I bake when I’m stressed, but…”
I laughed. “You’re a stress baker?”
“Don’t spread it around. I’ve got a reputation.”
I smiled, warm all over. “Alright, Sawyer. Friends?”
“Friends.” He lifted his coffee in a toast. “To the weirdest, most public fake relationship friendship of all time.”
I tapped my cup against his. “Cheers to that.”
We lapsed into a quiet moment. Not awkward, just…reflective. Then he ruined it in the best possible way.
“So, tell me something random about you. Something someone wouldn’t know from the media. Something about just Ellie, not Ellie Miles. No pressure, but make it interesting. Like… totally obscure and random. Do you make your assistant separate your M&Ms by color?”
I chuckled. “No, but maybe I should start.”
He gasped. “Missed opportunity. I would totally do that if I were you.”
“Okay, fine.” I tapped my chin. “Something random… Okay, I’m obsessed with crime documentaries. Probably a little too much. I like to fall asleep to them playing.”
“Murder helps you sleep?”
“Yep,” I said with a smile.
“Too late to take back the friends thing?” he teased. “I might be a little scared of you now.”
I shrugged. “You should be. With everything I’ve learned, I could totally get away with murder.”
He leaned back dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “And yet, here I am, willingly. What a beautiful, reckless man I am.”
He grinned at me, a slow, crooked smile that took over my entire brain.
My gaze dropped to his mouth before I could stop it, and…
what were we talking about? I couldn’t remember, which was a problem, considering I was supposed to be the one in control of this arrangement, not sitting here staring at my fake boyfriend's lips.
“Okay, big true crime girl,” he said, breaking the moment. “What else?”
I exhaled slowly, trying to steady myself. “Uh, I check my horoscope every day. I’m not sure I believe in it all, but it’s fun and often pretty spot on.”
“You’d like my brother’s girlfriend. She’s into that kind of stuff too.”
“Noah?”
“Yeah.” He glanced down for a second.
“How are they doing?”
“They’re good, all things considered.” He smiled a little and glanced back up. “I think my brother’s gonna ask her to marry him soon.”
“That’s sweet. Makes me happy to hear,” I said. “What about you? Tell me something random about yourself.”
He tapped his chin. “Okay, this might sound weird, but I can’t fall asleep without white noise.”
I tilted my head. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. When my niece was a baby, she spent some time in the NICU. My brother, Dorian, is a single dad, so I helped when I could. I read that white noise could help her sleep, so I bought a machine. Turns out, it helped me sleep too. Now, I’m basically useless without it.”
“That’s actually…really sweet.”
“That’s just my family. We always show up for each other…but if you ever need someone to give you the best white noise recs, I’ve got you. Ocean waves are a scam. It’s box fan or nothing.”
We both laughed again, and for the first time in forever, I wasn’t thinking about press, timelines, or damage control. I didn’t feel like Ellie Miles, The Brand. I just felt…like me. The girl who used to play tiny gigs in coffee shops and eat diner pie at midnight with her guitar on her back.
And sitting across from this dorky, too-handsome football player who made napkin contracts and flirted like it was his full-time job?
It was nice. Really nice.