“Yup,” I answered a little too quickly, earning a narrowed look from her.
“You don’t have to go full speed the second the curtain lifts. No meet-and-greets, no spontaneous dance numbers, no crowd dives. And we’ll figure out the whole football player thing as we go.”
“I’ve never once crowd dived.”
“If anyone could get carried off by a group of emotionally unhinged fans, it’s you. Your fans love you.”
I managed a small smile. “Yeah. That used to feel like the best part.”
Rachel tilted her head. “Used to?”
“I used to love the screaming fans, the crowds, the way a new city always felt like a fresh start.” I sighed. “Now, I’m just not sure what I want anymore.”
I could hit the high notes, charm my way through interviews, go through all the motions—but the pop star the world knew me as felt like a stranger now.
“Do you want to take a longer break?” Rachel asked.
“No. If I walk away now…it would feel like it was all for nothing.”
“None of this was for nothing. You don’t have to have all the answers right now. If you need some more time, just say the word.”
I gave her a weak smile. “Thanks.”
“I’m proud of you, you know.”
“For being physically able to sit upright and make a phone call asking a stranger out?”
“For trying. Even when it’s terrifying.Especiallywhen it’s terrifying.”
FIVE
Sawyer
It'd beena 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 wholeEllie Miles isdrop-dead gorgeous and the exact kind of person who could ruin a manthing 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.
