Chapter 16 Ellie
SIXTEEN
Ellie
My security team led Rachel and me through the stadium’s lower levels: concrete walls, flickering fluorescents, and the distant echo of the crowd.
We moved past the security checkpoint outside the locker room.
I could hear voices from inside—celebratory chatter, bursts of laughter, the occasional cheer.
Some of the players had already wandered by with pads slung over their shoulders and wet hair. A few of them did a double-take when they saw me, offered small smiles, and kept moving.
The door opened again. Sawyer—gorgeous, disheveled, and stupidly handsome in a way that should have been illegal—had his head down, thumbs flying over his phone, completely unaware.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out.
Hey. You still here?
I grinned and typed back.
Look up.
When he did, his whole face changed.
“Ellie,” he breathed.
And then, he launched.
Six-foot-five of pure muscle and post-game adrenaline barreled straight toward me. Before I could react, he scooped me up and spun me in a full circle, my feet swinging midair.
I shrieked out a startled laugh. “Sawyer! What are you doing? No one’s even watching.”
“Don’t care.” He grinned like a lunatic as he set me down, brushing back a piece of my hair. “You’re here.”
“Oh my God,” Rachel said. “I think I just fell in love.”
Sawyer turned toward her with mock seriousness, pointing at me. “Hey, this one’s taken.”
Rachel stuck out a hand and smiled. “Rachel Thomas, Ellie’s PR wrangler slash therapist slash emotional support human.”
“Sawyer James.” He gave her a firm shake. “So you’re the legendary Rachel.”
“And you’re the golden retriever she won’t shut up about.”
I elbowed her. Hard.
Sawyer puffed his chest. “If she’s talking about me, I must be doing something right.”
“As long as I still get her for wine nights, you can have her on weekends.”
“Deal.” Sawyer’s eyes snapped back to mine, soft and full of something dangerous.
“I’m literally right here,” I muttered, trying not to blush. “Why does this feel like a bizarre custody battle?”
He leaned in, voice low and rough in my ear. “If it were up to me, you’d be a full-time arrangement.”
My breath caught. No. Absolutely not. He had no right sounding like that: deep, gravelly, and full of promises he hadn’t even made yet.
“Careful,” I whispered. “Someone might think you actually like me.”
“Isn’t that the point?” He pulled back enough to flash that grin, the one that made my knees question their entire structural integrity. “And I do like you, Ellie Miles. That’s exactly the problem.”
Rachel groaned. “Okay, I’m definitely in love.”
Sawyer laced his fingers through mine as if it was nothing. “You sure you’re not just jealous?”
“Please. Men exhaust me. Plus, I’ve witnessed enough late-night brooding over you to last a lifetime. I’ll keep living vicariously through El.”
“Rachel,” I hissed.
Sawyer’s face lit up like I’d just handed him a Super Bowl ring. “You brooded over me?”
“I’m revoking your best friend status,” I muttered.
He leaned down and brushed his lips against my temple. “Too late.”
And just like that, I was toast. Floaty, flushed, and utterly undone.
“Want to grab food?” he asked, casual and likely completely unaware of the cardiac episode I was having.
“Yeah,” I somehow managed to say. “That’d be nice.”
Rachel squeezed my arm. “I’m heading back to the hotel. We’ve got an early flight to Vegas, so try not to let your lover boy keep you out too late.”
“I’ll have her back by ten,” Sawyer said, tugging me close.
“You better, or I’m suing for full custody,” she chirped.
“You guys coming?” he asked Ben.
“Yes, sir. We have the car ready outside.”
“All right. Let’s roll.”
“Wait,” Rachel called. “Where are you going? I can leak a location, get some coverage.”
I groaned. “Do we have to?”
She shot me a look. “The cameras are the whole point, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“I’ll text you the spot,” he said. “It’s close.”
“Okay. Love you, El. Be safe.”
“Always. Love you.”
Sawyer slipped his arm around my shoulders as we left the tunnel, his body still warm from the game. Adrenaline wafted off him, his smile contagious.
“I didn’t think I’d see you until tomorrow,” he said.
I glanced up at him, the corners of my mouth tugging up. “Surprise. I thought it’d be fun to show up. Are you mad?”
He looked down at me, brows raised. “Mad? Ellie, you showing up at the rare game I get to score a touchdown? That’s basically my dream scenario.”
We passed through the security checkpoint with Ben and another member of my team beside us, scanning the surroundings.
Sawyer nodded at the exit. “You ready for the circus out there?”
“I’ve seen worse.” I leaned into his side. “Besides, I’ve got you.”
That earned me a soft laugh. “Damn right you do.”
The second we stepped outside, the mayhem hit: camera shutters clicking, reporters yelling our names, fans shouting.
“There she is! Ellie, over here!”
“Sawyer! Big win tonight—what’s next?”
Flashes sparked from every angle. I kept my head down and stayed close to him, one hand on his chest as we moved through the crowd. He didn’t flinch or slow down, keeping one hand on my back and guiding us through.
Ben was already at the curb, yanking open the back door of the SUV. “Straight in,” he said, eyes never leaving the crowd.
Sawyer helped me first before sliding in beside me. The door slammed shut behind us. Inside, it was quiet, just the hum of the engine and the low rumble of voices from outside.
I exhaled slowly, leaning back into the leather seat. “That was fun.”
“You okay?” he asked, already turning toward me.
“Yeah.” I nodded, stealing a glance at him. “You?”
He shrugged, eyes still on me. “I am now.”
For a beat, we just sat there, breathing the same air, shoulders almost touching.
“I didn’t have a plan,” I said finally. “I just wanted to see you, and I thought it would be good for the media.”
“You could’ve just said you missed me,” he teased.
“And inflate your ego? I’ll pass.”
I bit my bottom lip as I eyed him up and down. His hair had grown longer since we first met, the dark strands curling at the edges. I found myself staring at those curls, imagining how they'd feel wrapped around my fingers, how his breath would hitch if I tugged just hard enough.
His brown eyes held a familiar softness, but something darker flickered when he caught my lingering stare.
My gaze drifted down to his mouth and back up to find him watching me with an intensity that made my pulse jump.
The space between us suddenly was too wide and too narrow all at once.
I wanted to step closer to see if his skin was as warm as it looked, to find out what sound he'd make if I pressed my lips to that spot where his jaw met his neck.
He shifted, and I caught the way his gaze dropped to my mouth before snapping back up. My breath came a little quicker.
“Hungry?” he asked lowly.
“Starving.” The word came out breathier than I intended. I let my gaze drop to his mouth for a moment before meeting his eyes.
He smirked, but I caught the way his jaw ticked. “Good. I know a spot. And I scored tonight, so I'm off my training diet for the evening.”
His hand moved to rest in the space between us, inches from my thigh. I shifted in my seat, letting my knee brush against his as I angled toward him. My hand found the edge of the seat, fingertips grazing his knuckles on what could have been accident.
Oopsie.
The SUV pulled away from the curb and into the night, the stadium falling behind us in a blur of lights. The city was quieter out here, like it was letting us catch our breath.
“Where to?” Ben asked from the front seat.
Sawyer rattled off a couple of cross streets and pulled out his phone. “Just texted Rachel. Told her to call in the crazies.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You say that like it’s something to look forward to.”
His grin widened. “With you, everything is something to look forward to, Ellie baby.”
I didn’t answer, mostly because his hand was resting on my leg, just above my knee. His thumb brushed aimlessly in slow, small circles against my jeans.
And he called me Ellie baby. Again.
When the car took a sharp turn, I let myself sway into him, my shoulder pressing against his arm, my hair brushing his neck. I felt him go perfectly still beside me.
I cleared my throat, grasping at something, anything else to focus on. “Nice game, by the way.”
He glanced over. “Thanks. I gotta say, you look damn good in my jersey.”
I arched a brow. “Oh, this old thing? Just pulled it out of my closet this morning.”
“You’re lying.”
“You’re right. I bought it at the merch stand before the game.”
He chuckled, that low, sexy laugh I liked way too much. “Well then, I’m getting you more. You’ve got the blue now, but we still need to get you gold, white, dark blue…maybe even a throwback.”
“That many?” I teased. “Seems excessive.”
“Probably. Don’t care. Nothing but the best for my girl.”
Before I could answer, Ben spoke. “We’re here, ma’am.”
I turned toward the window and blinked in surprise.
We were parked on a small side street in a historic part of the city.
Brick sidewalk lined the streets with cute iron balconies and strings of lights.
Nestled between two boutique shops was a small Italian restaurant, its windows glowing warm against the cool night.
“What is this place?” I asked.
“Little hole in the wall spot I found years ago. I come here every time I’m in town. Kind of a tradition now.”
I smiled. “Sounds perfect.”
He glanced at me—not with the cocky grin or the flirty smirk, but something softer. “Is this okay? I know we didn’t really make a plan.”
“It’s great. Honestly, I love not having to make a decision for once.”
Ben stepped out and rounded the car with Sawyer on his heels. Before Ben went to open my door, Sawyer said something to him that I couldn’t make out from inside the car. Ben gave a slight nod and stepped back.
Sawyer opened my door.
I peered up at him, eyes catching his.
“Ready?” he asked, offering his hand.
I nodded and stepped out, and his hand found the small of my back as we walked toward the entrance. The street wasn’t packed, but there were a few paparazzi scattered around, snapping pictures. A couple of shouted questions flew our way as we walked inside.
Sawyer didn’t flinch as he leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Almost there.”
I fought the shiver that rolled down my spine.
The moment we stepped inside, the energy shifted. The noise melted away, replaced with low conversation, the gentle clink of silverware, and soft jazz playing through the space. The lights were dim, golden, dreamy.
It smelled incredible—garlic, fresh basil, and something baking in a wood-fired oven. My stomach gave an embarrassing growl.
Sawyer’s hand slid from my back to my waist, guiding me around a corner as a petite woman in her sixties burst through a swinging door from the kitchen. She wore a black apron, her gray hair piled into a bun.
“Sawyer James,” she shouted in an Italian accent, her face lighting up. She threw her arms open for him. “My boy! Look at you!”
He let go of me long enough to pull her into a hug. “Miss Isabella. You’re still the boss around here, huh?”
“Always.” She kissed both his cheeks with loud smacks. “You haven’t been here in forever. I was starting to think you forgot me.”
“Never,” he said, smiling big and boyish.
She turned, eyes narrowing, studying me. “And who is this beauty?”
“This is Ellie,” he said, sliding an arm back around my waist. “My girlfriend.”
My heart did a not-so-casual somersault. I glanced up at Isabella, who watched me with a knowing look, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, this is your girl, huh?”
Sawyer looked entirely too pleased with himself. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, she’s a pretty little thing. Keep her, will ya?”
“That’s the plan.”
I laughed, warm all over. “I’ll try to make it worth his while.”
“Oh, I like her,” Isabella said, patting my cheek. “Smart mouth. That’s what this boy needs.”
“I’m right here,” Sawyer muttered, but he was grinning.
She waved a hand. “Good. You need someone who doesn’t fall for that ‘I’m so tall and charming’ act. He’s actually a big softie inside. Sit, sit. I’ll bring wine. You want the usual?”
He turned to me. “What do you like?”
“I’m not picky.”
He looked back at Isabella. “The usual would be great.”
She disappeared back into the kitchen, and Sawyer pulled out my chair, sitting across from me.
The table was tucked into a corner with a view of the whole cozy dining room, a tiny candle flickering between us.
Luckily, there weren’t many people around.
A few seemed to recognize us but respected our privacy.
“This place is adorable.” I glanced around at the exposed brick and twinkle lights strung over the bar.
“She’s been running it since before I was in the league. Found it years ago. I came in for takeout, and she fed me four courses and made me promise to call my dad and tell him I love him.”
“And you’ve been loyal ever since?”
“I’m a simple man. Feed me pasta, insult me a little, and I’ll never leave.”
I grinned, folding my arms on the table. “Good to know.”
Isabella returned with two glasses of red wine and a basket of garlic knots that smelled like heaven. “Start with this. I’ll bring you something good.”
“You’re a saint,” Sawyer said, grabbing a knot.
“I’m underpaid is what I am.” She winked at me. “Don’t let him forget that.”
Once she was gone again, Sawyer tore a piece of bread and popped it in his mouth. “So, did you enjoy the game?”
“You want honesty?” I said, taking a sip of wine.
“Always.”
“You look good out there.”
He nearly choked. “That’s what you noticed?”
“Well that, and the fact you apparently launched yourself over someone to get the ball and ran it into the end zone.”
“Hey, it worked.”
“You show off. You’re crazy.”
“And you liked it?”
I bit my lip. “Maybe.”
Sawyer leaned back, smug and relaxed, looking at me like I was already his favorite part of the night.