Chapter 8 Ellie
EIGHT
Ellie
Sawyer held the door to Woodstone Perks open, and I stepped inside.
God, the smell alone brought a smile to my lips—rich espresso mixed with something that reminded me of my late grandmother's kitchen.
The murmurs of conversation and the soft clink of ceramic felt like the first real breath I'd taken in months.
I took in the exposed brick walls, the mismatched furniture that actually looked lived-in instead of staged, and shelves packed with well-worn books. “This place is—”
“Ellie Miles.”
The voice came from behind the counter, and I turned to see a man watching me with an easy smile. He had warm brown skin and a smile that made you want to immediately trust him with your secrets.
“Thomas,” Sawyer said, grinning. “Try not to scare her off in the first thirty seconds.”
“I’m not scary!” Thomas immediately proved himself wrong by practically bouncing on his toes. “Oh my God, you're actually here. In our coffee shop. Aiden's going to lose his mind.”
As if summoned, another man emerged from behind the espresso machine—tall, pale, with sharp blue eyes. He took one look at me, blinked hard, and looked again. “You've got to be kidding me.”
“Aiden,” Thomas said in a singsong voice, “it’s Ellie Miles.”
“I can see that.” Aiden wiped his hands on his apron, shaking his head. “Someone please tell me this is actually happening.”
I couldn't help but laugh. “Hi, I’m Ellie.”
“Nice to meet you. This is Aiden, and I’m Thomas—the better half, obviously.” Thomas pointed to himself with both thumbs. “At your service.”
“Hey.” Aiden scoffed. “I make the coffee. You just look pretty and take people's money.”
“And I'm very good at both, thank you.”
Thomas turned back to Sawyer, his eyes narrowing. “Wait. How exactly do you know Ellie Miles? Last I checked, your idea of entertainment was arguing about whether pineapple belongs on pizza.”
“It absolutely doesn’t,” Sawyer said.
“See?” Thomas gestured at him like he'd proved his point.
Sawyer glanced at me, a question in his eyes.
When I nodded, he broke into that slow smile that had been doing dangerous things to my pulse all day. “Well, funny story. She's my girlfriend.”
The silence that followed was so complete that I could hear the espresso machine hissing in the background.
“I’m sorry,” Aiden said slowly, “did you just say—”
“Girlfriend.” Sawyer slid his arm around my waist with an ease that shouldn't have felt as natural as it did. “Story's probably breaking as we speak.”
Thomas grabbed Aiden's arm. “Are you seeing this? Am I having a stroke?”
“We're both having a stroke,” Aiden said.
I buried my face in my hands, laughing despite myself.
Thomas slapped the counter. “Okay, first of all, congratulations. Second of all, how? When? Why didn't you lead with this information?”
“Because," Sawyer said, steering me toward the counter, “we'd like coffee before the interrogation begins.”
“Fair point.” Thomas was already moving. “The usual for you, and what can I get for the literal pop star dating our favorite customer?”
“Anything extra sweet,” I said.
After we ordered, we found a table in the back corner. My shoulders immediately relaxed for the first time all day.
“So,” Sawyer said, settling into the chair across from me, “how are we doing? Scale of one to ‘I'm booking the first flight to hide out somewhere tropical.’”
“Somewhere around a two?” I took a sip of my latte and sighed. “This is really good coffee.”
“The owner will be so pleased. He takes it as a personal insult when people don't appreciate his foam art.”
I glanced down and realized he'd made a little heart.
“It's perfect.” I tilted my head. “So...what’s the story we’re gonna tell your family?”
He leaned back in his chair. “Honestly? My family’s known I’ve had a thing for you for a minute now. Not exactly a secret around here. So, when we say we started talking after... Well, they’ll probably just ask how I pulled that off.”
I caught the blush creeping up his neck and smirked. “Oh, really?”
“Can you blame me? Turns out, you’re pretty damn easy to like off-screen too. So maybe we say we started talking after the night everything went down, took it slow, and well—now we’re dating.”
“Alright, I can work with that.”
The bell above the door chimed, interrupting our conversation.
Sawyer smiled and raised his hand in greeting at the sandy-haired officer who strolled in. “Henry.”
“Sawyer James,” Henry said, genuine warmth in his voice. “Good to see you back in town, even if it's just for a visit.”
“Good to be back.” Sawyer stood to shake his hand. “Henry, meet Ellie. Ellie, this is Henry Reynolds. We grew up together.”
Henry gave me a polite nod. His expression was calm and unreadable, as if he either didn’t recognize me or didn’t see the need to, which was a nice change of pace.
“Nice to meet you,” he said, extending his hand.
“You too.” I smiled and shook his hand.
“This is my partner, Matt Rogers.” Henry gestured to the slightly older officer with gray hair. “He just transferred from Shadow Ridge.”
Matt nodded hello, and I could see him trying to place me, but he was polite enough not to say anything.
“So,” Henry said to Sawyer, “heard you bought the old place on Maplewood.”
Sawyer grinned. “You heard right. Time to put down roots.”
“That house has some history,” Henry said carefully.
“Yeah, well, I'm not superstitious.” Sawyer shrugged. “It's got good bones, and the price was right.”
Henry chuckled. “Fair enough. Well, welcome back to town.”
After they moved to the counter to order, I turned to Sawyer. “They seem nice.”
“Henry's good people. We played football together in high school.” Sawyer's expression darkened slightly. “His brother, on the other hand... Well, that's a story for another day.”
I wanted to ask about that, but my phone chose that moment to explode with notifications. Alert after alert flooded my screen, and my stomach dropped as I read the headlines.
NFL Star Sawyer James and Singer Ellie Miles: Officially Dating!
Ellie Miles Breaks Silence on New Relationship with Sawyer James.
Pop Star Ellie Miles and NFL Star Sawyer James Officially a Couple—Fans React!
“Sawyer,” I said, turning my phone so he could see.
He pulled out his own phone and whistled low. “Well, that didn't take long.”
“This is happening so fast.” I stared at the screen, feeling slightly dizzy, and I lifted my cup to take another sip.
“You've got a little…” Sawyer vaguely gestured at his own mouth.
I reached up to wipe it away, but he was already leaning across the small table, close enough that I caught the scent of his cologne mixed with the coffee. His thumb brushed across my lip, and suddenly, the coffee shop felt about ten degrees warmer.
“There,” he whispered.
He didn't pull his hand away. His thumb traced along my lower lip now, and I found myself holding my breath, hyperaware of everything—the way his eyes had gone darker, the little crease between his brows, and the fact that we were supposed to be fake dating.
“Hey.” His voice was gentle, his thumb still resting against my cheek. “We've got this, okay? You and me. We'll figure it out as we go.”
“Yeah, no going back now.”
“Good.” He stood and offered me his hand. “Now, let’s get out of here before my family murders me.”