I pull into the parking lot and look in the distance towards the island, wondering what ever became of Brandon. After what happened here, a lot of my friends never came back. Then after high school, most of us went our separate ways and just lost contact.

“We’re here,” I say. “What do you want to do first?”

We get out of the car, and he stares over at the rocks. “Stack rocks,” he says.

I take him over to the area that is cordoned off from the rest of the beach. We walk carefully through the stacks others have built, admiring how high some of them are. A few stacks have fallen down and we collect some of the rocks from them to build our own stack.

“I want mine that high,” Danny says, pointing to the tall one that must be over three feet.

“I’ll bet they cheated and used mortar or something between the rocks.”

“Cheating isn’t fair,” he says. “Mommy tells me not to ever cheat.”

“That’s right, you shouldn’t. But there will always be people who do.”

He looks over at me with his deep blue, innocent eyes. “Why?”

“Because they think it’s the only way they will win.”

“Do you cheat?” he asks. “You win a lot at baseball Mommy says.”

“I never cheat at baseball,” I tell him. “I work very hard to be good at it.”

“Can you teach me to be good at it?” he asks.

“You bet, buddy.”

“Maybe someday I can be good like you.”

I look at him, trying hard to keep the sadness out of my eyes. “Maybe you can. Now, what do you say we get your fishing pole and try to catch a big one?”

“Yes!” he screams, pulling me by my hand and leading me away from our pitiful attempt at a record-breaking rock stack.

~ ~ ~

“I’d like to make a toast to the bride and groom,” Spencer says, as he stands up and turns around, raising his miniature airplane bottle of vodka from the seat in front of me. “To Sawyer and … what’s her name again?”

I knew it. I knew someone would make stupid wedding jokes.

Part of me wants to be pissed – the part that knows it could never be true because Sawyer Mills wouldn’t ever have a girlfriend, let alone a wife. But the other part, the part trying to keep my goddamn job, is wanting to do a fist-pump knowing my manager is witnessing this from a few rows over.

I try and think of how I should react to make it believable.

“Two dates, asshole,” I say, throwing a packet of peanuts at him. “Two fucking dates. And her name is Aspen.”

“Three if you count the night you met her in the bar,” Conner adds.

Four if you count the night we really met.

“That wasn’t a date,” I say, instead.

“And the shopping excursion?” Benham asks. “Hell, when are the invitations going out?”

“Maybe you could all shut the fuck up and mind your own business,” I say.

I look over at Brady and Caden who both have shit-eating grins on their faces. “What’re you smiling at?” I say, just for good measure.

Then I stick my earbuds in and pretend to ignore the incessant chatter concerning my love life.

I pull out my phone and type an email that I know won’t get delivered until we land.

Aspen,

I’m sitting here on the plane listening to my teammates rib me about us. They are buying all of it, hook, line and sinker. And the best part is that my manager is hearing everything. Remember when I told you they’d probably tease me about getting married. Yup – they are. I couldn’t have planned it better.

You were great last night. Maybe it’s time to ramp things up and come to a game. Next weekend maybe?

Later,

Sawyer

I turn on my music, lean back into my seat, and close my eyes when I realize that is the first email I’ve ever sent a woman who doesn’t either work for me or who isn’t part of the Hawks organization. Then I remember that she does work for me, and for a second I think I might feel something a bit unusual. Disappointment.

I break the seal of the small bottle the flight attendant gave me and enjoy the burn as I swallow it down.

Chapter Sixteen

Aspen

I re-read Sawyer’s email on a break between classes. At least he was nice about it and didn’t just demand I show up for a game. I don’t care if he’s paying me, he still needs to act like a decent human. I type out a reply.

Sawyer,

I’m glad things are going as planned. I keep worrying that I’m screwing everything up. I’m a much better piano player than actress. I spoke with Bass and Saturday works for us if that’s okay. Thanks for asking me instead of telling me, by the way. I’m glad to see you’re learning something.

Aspen

The cover of a tabloid gets shoved in front of me. “Is this you?” Helen Jensen asks.

Helen also plays piano, so we have a few classes together. I wouldn’t exactly call her a friend, but we have been at a lot of the same social gatherings.

I stare at the picture I’ve already seen, admiring how good Sawyer and I look together. This one was taken at the basketball game when he was doing the thing with my hair.

I shrug my answer.

“Oh, my God, it is you. I knew it. You know Sawyer Mills? I mean, you’ve gone out with him? Are you still?” She sits down next to me. “Tell me everything. Does he have any friends you could introduce me to?”

“There’s nothing to tell, Helen. We’ve only been out a few times.”

She points to the article. “According to this, you’re his girlfriend.”

“Don’t believe everything you read,” I say. “Those newspapers will print anything.”

“So, you’re not his girlfriend?”

“No,” I say, trying to keep it believable. “We just had some fun together, that’s all. There’s no label on anything.”

“Fun?” She raises an eyebrow. “What’s he like – you know, in bed?”

My jaw drops. “Seriously?”

“Oh, come on. Everyone knows he sleeps with every girl he takes out.”

I shake my head and stand up. “I have to get to class.”

“Okay, but keep me in mind if he wants to double with one of his teammates. I hear Spencer Truman and Dylan Buckley are available.”

I wave at her as I walk away, not bothering to reply. How does she know the names of everyone on the team? Am I the only one who doesn’t follow sports?

Three more people pull me aside on my way to class. It seems everyone wants to be my friend today. I guess being a talented pianist and a good person wasn’t enough for them before. Hypocrites.

I’m ready to throw my phone against the wall, because by the end of the day it’s blowing up with texts and social media posts from so-called friends who recognized me. But then one text catches my eye. It’s from Murphy. She and Rylee want to take me out to dinner while the boys are away. I solidify plans with them and then shut my phone off. After all, I still have several more weeks of school to get through before graduation. I don’t plan on failing my finals and screwing up everything I’m working toward.

~ ~ ~

After my shower, I turn my phone back on in case Murphy or Rylee need to get ahold of me to change or cancel our plans. I’m not really sure why they want to go out with me. It’s not like we’re friends. I’m the help. The paid escort of their real friend. Why they aren’t treating me like that is beyond me.

I have quite a few more messages and texts than usual. I guess that’s to be expected. And if this is happening now, I can’t imagine what it will be like when the press finds out my name.

My phone immediately rings and my brother’s face flashes across the screen.

“Hi, Den.”

“Sawyer Mills?” he asks. “Is that really you in the pictures? They aren’t Photoshopped, are they?”

“Well hello to you, too.”

“Tell me, Aspen. What’s going on?”

I know he means business when he calls me by my real name.

“It’s me. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? You’re going out with a Nighthawk? What … how …?”

I laugh. But then I remember I can’t tell him anything. I have to tell more lies to my brother. Something I’d never done before meeting Sawyer. I think this is the worst part of the whole arrangement, that I can’t talk to Denver about it.

“We went out twice. I’m sure it’s nothing. You know how quickly he goes through women.”

“Jesus, Pen, you didn’t sleep with him, did you?”

“Of course not.”

“Good. But maybe that’s the only reason you got a second date. Did you ever think of that? Maybe he’s just keeping you around until you give him what he’s after.”

“Why would he want to do that? He can have anyone he wants. But maybe you’re right. Maybe he’s already done with me.”

“Shit, really? That’s a shame. It would have been so cool. Not that I could meet him or anything with me being stuck in Missouri.”

“Because it’s all about you?” I joke.

“You know what I mean. So he hasn’t asked for another date?”

“Not technically. But he did ask me to come watch one of his games this weekend.”

“Are you going?”

“I think Bass and I will go.”

He laughs. “Bass? Sawyer won’t mind you taking another guy to a game?”

“Didn’t you see the other photos?” I ask. “We already went out together. Bass and Sawyer have met.”

“He’s met your friends? Aspen, what aren’t you telling me?”

My skin crawls with all the lies I know I’ll have to tell my favorite person in the world over the coming months.

“Nothing. We met in a bar and I shot him down, but I gave him my number and now we’ve gone out a few times. Is that so hard to believe?”