I swallowed. “If I forget the words?”
“I have no doubt you could sing every song in your sleep.”
“If I'm terrible?”
He smiled. “Impossible.”
“Why?” The word barely made it past my lips.
“Why what?”
“Why do you care this much?”
He stared at me like the answer should’ve been obvious. “Because you matter to me. Not the singer. Not the public image. Not even the fake girlfriend I can’t stop thinking about. Just you. I care. A lot.”
I took a shaky breath. “Okay. I can do it.”
“Are you sure? You don’t have to.”
“Yeah,” I said, firmer. “I want to.”
The dressing room door flew open, and Rachel rushed in, her eyes darting between us.
“We stalled the opening act—gave them a couple more songs,” she blurted. “We’ve got flexibility. We can push your set. Cancel, delay, whatever you need. Say the word.”
I leaned into Sawyer for half a second longer. Then, I stood taller. “Give me ten minutes?”
Rachel cocked her head. “You sure?”
Sawyer slid his hand into mine, steady and warm. “Give her twenty, just to be safe.”
Rachel nodded. “You got it.”
NINETEEN
Sawyer
Ellie owned the stage.Every note came out steady and sure, and the crowd roared it right back at her. I didn’t even know if she’d walk out there tonight, but she did—with her shoulders squared, chin up, holding nothing back.
I’d seen her perform before and thought I was impressed then. This was different. Maybe because now, I knew what it cost her—how much she had to push through to get here, to be this version of herself under all the pressure.
The past few weeks had given me a front-row seat to the real Ellie—the one who laughed at my nonsense, stayed up too late, kept her favorite people close, and still wondered if she was enough. Seeing her now, it all came together.
When I watched her perform, I wasn’t just in awe of her talent. I was in awe ofher—her strength, her courage, and especially the way she made people feel like they mattered, like they were seen.
I knew she said she wasn’t sure if she still wanted this dream the way she once had, but whether she stayed in the spotlight or walked away tomorrow, one thing was clear.
She didn’t get here by accident.
She got here because she was extraordinary.
“She’s something else, huh?” Clay, Ellie’s dad, leaned toward me as we stood near the edge of the VIP tent. His broad shoulders and square jaw made him look like he could’ve stepped off a ranch or a football field, but his eyes held the same humble pride I’d seen in Ellie when she smiled.
Meeting her parents had me shakier than walking into my first NFL game, but it went better than I expected. They clearly adored their daughter, and I understood that. She was impossible not to be proud of.
“She definitely is,” I said, unable to stop the smile pulling at my lips.
Allison, Ellie’s mom, had her hands clasped over her chest. Her brown hair caught the stage lights, and her blue eyes shimmered as they watched Ellie singing a soft, sad ballad about losing someone you loved.
