4. Savion

FOUR

SAVION

It's Saturday morning, and while my best friend Kelly nurses a headache on my couch, I'm deep into researching a fossil just found in Indonesia.

"It looks like this thing might be related to the giant rat," I say with too much enthusiasm, earning a long groan from Kelly in response.

I'm currently sitting at the dining table, balancing work and keeping her company. One of the perks of having an open-plan living area is that everything happens in the same space—watching TV, cooking, eating meals, working from home, and yes, researching giant rodents and getting over a headache.

"Sav, this is not normal. Will you come over here and watch Gilmore Girls reruns like any normal man on a Saturday morning?"

I raise a brow and shoot her a mock-serious look. "Do I detect sarcasm, Kells?" She rolls her eyes, but I press on, "If liking GG makes me weird... or gay, then I don't want to be normal. And you already know I'm straight, like the lines in this journal," I say, pointing at the article I'm reading. "Plus, the girls are gorgeous, and the guys—Luke Danes, come on. Everyone wants to be that guy."

"Then come over and let's watch."

"In a minute," I reply, sinking my teeth into my grilled chicken sandwich.

Kelly sighs dramatically. "Fine. But in the meantime... no rat talk!"

Ignoring Kelly, I get lost in my research once again. I take another bite of my sandwich. Mmmmm. It's delicious. Adding bacon and some veggies really made it pop. The only thing missing is some cheese. I'm distracted from my sandwich musings when my cell phone buzzes on the coffee table. Before I even have a chance to rise to my feet to get it, Kelly has already snatched it.

She bounces over to me with far too much energy for someone supposedly hungover. "Who's Dec?"

Of course, that's what I get for giving my best friend the password to my phone one night when I had a little too much wine. I'd been feeling really down because I'd heard some disturbing news. I'd tried to numb my anger and pain with wine, and my lips got a little too loose.

I glance at the screen. "It's Dec?" The words come out higher-pitched than I meant them to, and I clear my throat, trying to sound nonchalant. "I mean... he's just a guy."

Kelly's mouth falls open, her stare incredulous. "You've got a guy? Sav, that's amazing! I'm so happy for you, but why didn't you tell me you were bi?" She gives me a playful swat on my arm.

I shake my head, flustered. "I'm not. He's just a... a friend, I think. We met at that fundraiser last week."

"Well, he's texting you on a Saturday morning, so I'd say he's locking down your weekend." Kelly grins, clearly enjoying this.

Her words stir something in me, something I've been trying to ignore since... well, since we went to get those brisket sandwiches.

There was something awkward about that whole exchange—something I couldn't quite put my finger on. I replay the moment in my head, trying to make sense of it. It was supposed to be a casual lunch run, right? Just two guys grabbing a bite to eat. But it felt off.

I keep telling myself it was nothing. Maybe I'd been thrown off because Declan ordered for me without asking first. Maybe I wasn't used to someone just... taking charge like that. I mean, it was only a sandwich, but the way his fingers brushed mine when he handed it over—it was like a tiny jolt of electricity.

And then, there was the way he asked if I wanted to eat with him. I didn't say no, but something in me froze up and I made an excuse about needing to get back to work. I could see the confusion in his eyes, like he didn't understand why I was pulling away.

I don't understand it either.

I've never had a problem hanging out with other guys before. Hell, in college before… before what happened to me, I spent half my weekends with my guy friends, just kicking back. But something about Declan... something's different.

Is it because he's confident? Or maybe it's how easy it is to talk to him, like he just gets people. I've met guys like him before—charming, laid-back, able to make you feel like you're the only one in the room. But none of them have ever made me feel... weird.

I shake my head at the thought. It's ridiculous. He's just a guy I met at a fundraiser. So why can't I stop thinking about that lunch?

I force myself to focus back on Kelly's words. "No way, he's just being friendly."

But even as I say it, there's a part of me that wonders. Kelly's right about one thing: it was him texting me first. Why does that make me feel... nervous?

I sigh, pushing the thoughts away. Even if there was anything more to it—which there isn't—what would a guy like Declan want with someone like me? He's cool, good-looking, easygoing... everything I'm not. Me? I'm a paleontologist who spends my weekends reading articles about giant rats. He couldn't possibly, genuinely want to be my friend. Right?

I glance at the text again, feeling a slight flutter in my chest that I can't quite explain. What the hell is wrong with me?

"Sav?" Kelly's voice cuts through my thoughts. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I lie. "Just distracted, I guess."

Kelly gives me a knowing look, but I ignore it. There's nothing going on here. At least, nothing that makes sense.

"Just give me my phone, Kells."

She takes her own sweet time handing it over to me, her eyes sparkling. "Tell me about him, then. You've never been this distracted over a friend before."

I take a seat next to her. I know she isn't going to leave me alone until I give her the details, so I might as well get it over with. "He's just a guy… okay, fine, a really good-looking guy, I'll admit."

Kelly's brows lift. "Oh, really? And what does this ‘good-looking guy' do?"

"I don't know, actually; I didn't ask." I pause, trying to remember if he mentioned his job, but my mind draws a blank. "He was at the fundraiser, so I guess he's in entertainment somehow. I thought he might be an actor or something, but I didn't recognize him—you know how clueless I am with that kind of stuff."

Kelly nods thoughtfully but suddenly gasps, her phone appearing in her hand as if by magic.

"What?" I ask, thrown off by her reaction, but she ignores me, typing furiously on her phone.

When she turns the screen toward me, my heart skips. A huge photo of Dec's face stares back at me.

"Tell me this isn't him," she demands.

"That's him," I admit, heat creeping up the back of my neck. "Why, who is he?"

Kelly shakes her head at me, her mouth wide open. "You've been asked to hang out by a member of Orion Skye, and you called him ‘just a guy'? I can't believe you didn't tell me about this sooner!"

"Oh, yeah, I think I've heard of them," I say, but my attempt at playing it cool falls flat. Kelly raises an eyebrow, seeing right through me. "Alright, fine, I have no idea who they are. Are they good?"

"They're one of the biggest bands in the world, Sav! More than good. They're huge ." She shakes her head again, still in shock. "And Dec's the cutest one—I think, anyway. He writes the most soulful lyrics. Tortured artist type. You have to hang out with him, Sav. Do it for me!"

I glance at the message Dec sent me.

Dec: Hey, got any plans today? Wanna hang?

Before Kelly told me who he was, I would have said yes. He seemed nice enough, and we got along well when we met for lunch the other day. But now that I know he's famous? My stomach churns with doubt.

"What if… I don't know, paparazzi see us? Or his fans start stalking me online or something?" I frown, feeling ridiculous for even saying it, but the thought nags at me. "I mean, I barely know the guy. Why would someone like him want to hang out with me? There's no way he doesn't have other options. Better options."

Kelly snorts, brushing off my worries. "Paparazzi? Really, Sav?" She rolls her eyes, half amused, half exasperated. "Come on, maybe Dec just enjoys your company. You were the only one at that stuffy fundraiser who wasn't trying to impress anyone. Maybe he liked that. No need to overthink it."

I let out a heavy sigh. "It's just... weird, you know? A guy like him wanting to be all friendly with me. We barely know each other, and yet…." I trail off, unsure how to articulate the feeling. The truth is, there's something about Dec that throws me off balance, but I can't put my finger on it. I chalk it up to him being famous—someone from an entirely different world than mine.

Kelly's teasing shifts into something more serious, her expression softening. "Sav, not everyone has to have an angle. Maybe Dec's just looking to make a genuine connection." She leans closer, nudging me. "You deserve to give it a chance. Who knows, he could be the coolest friend you've ever had."

I bite my lip, weighing her words. Am I overreacting? After all, it's not like I've made a ton of new friends lately. And Dec—well, he's the first person in a while who's seemed genuinely interested in hanging out with me, scars and all.

"Just give me the phone back, I'll message him."

"Fine, but only if you're saying yes."

"I'm saying yes," I mumble, typing out a reply.

Me: Sure. How about a hike to Griffith Observatory?

His response comes almost immediately.

Dec: Sounds great. Meet you in the car park in an hour?

Kelly leans over my shoulder and reads the text. "You've got a date with a rockstar!" She wraps her arms around me, squeezing tight.

"It's not a date," I protest weakly, still processing the idea of spending the day with a guy like Dec. "But, hey… want to help me figure out what to wear? I should at least look decent."

Kelly grins, already racing to my bedroom.

I arrive at the car park with a whole mega-swarm of butterflies in my stomach. It shouldn't make a difference what Dec does for a living, but I can't help feeling intimidated now that I know about his rockstar status. The Uber pulled into the car park right on time, but I can see Dec leaning against the fence at the start of the trail, waiting for me. I'm feeling self-conscious.

I take a deep breath, will myself to keep calm, and make like I'm simply sauntering over to him. He's giving me the gaze I remember from the night we met, the one that makes me feel exposed and excited all at once. I know he sees my scars—who wouldn't?—but it's like he sees beyond them. Like I'm not the sum of my injuries. Like I'm more, so much more than my scars. Like I'm simply… me.

I just pray I don't suddenly forget how to walk and fall on my ass in front of him.

"Hey," he says, once I'm close enough.

Standing near him makes me feel dainty despite my five-foot-ten-inch, 186-pound frame. He's tall, maybe six-four or five, and broad and big and warm, and I wish he would reach out and hug me with his strong arms, make me forget what the last four years have been like. But that's me being stupid, wanting to feel protected by someone I've only known a second.

"Hey, yourself." I sound pretty cool, I think. But that calm and unaffected image of myself is ruined as he leans in and his lips seem like they're only a few inches away from my cheek—my scarred cheek.

My heart sinks.

A million thoughts race through my head.

When I was getting ready to meet Dec, I made a deep side part in my hair and fluffed it out at the roots to make my hair super voluminous. This ensured it fell over my temple and down to my left cheek, where most of my scars are, at least partially covering them.

I'm sure Dec can still see my scars. It's hard not to, despite my best efforts to use my thick curls and makeup as a shield. I didn't expect him to want to spend his precious time with me. Don't my scars bother him—twist his stomach with revulsion?

Being here is probably not a good idea, after all. Maybe I was overly enthusiastic to go out with him.

My breath quickens, and I want to flee the premises and get as far away from this man as I possibly can. But I also really want to man up and see this non-date through. The light summer breeze caresses me, and Dec's woodsy cologne teases my senses.

And then it happens.

He gives me…

A hug.

A friendly side hug.

The kind that guys normally do with each other. I'm too melodramatic for my own good. Acting like he was going to kiss my cheek. I have no idea why my thoughts had run wild, thinking that a man like Declan would be making moves on me. And there's no reason to care about that anyway because I'm not into men. Not. At. All. I've never thought of being with a guy. But I can't help but notice the contrast in Declan's and my body, and I find it to be… pleasant. Releasing my breath, I giggle like a six-year-old even as he drops his arm from around my shoulders with a grin on his face.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all." If only he knew . "I just wasn't expecting that, that's all. Ready to do this?"

Dec straightens himself and gestures gallantly towards the small wooden bridge that leads to the start of the trail. "Youngins first."

Shaking my head in mock exasperation, I say, "You're not that old."

With eyes twinkling, he says, "You look like you're barely over 21."

I scoff. "Are you for real? I'm thirty."

Grabbing his chest like Fred Sanford faking a heart attack, Dec gasps in mock horror, "You're practically a senior citizen."

That gets me cracking up. My laughter must be contagious because he soon joins me. We sound like a troop of chimpanzees. It takes us a couple of minutes to compose ourselves before we begin to walk the trail.

We start at Fern Dell, a narrow, woodsy valley. The scent emanating from the ground on the path, a mix of grass and drying soil, wafts in the air as we make our way along the trail, Earth's perfume invigorating and revitalizing. Passing through the nature museum, we walk on the dirt path.

Green leaves rustle against each other like a collection of crinkling cellophane bags. A canopy of sycamore trees keeps us cool. For a few minutes we stop and admire the camouflage-looking bark of nature's giants, most of which have leaves that are a shade of green, infused with yellow undertones. Beyond is a man-made stream.

As much as I enjoy our companionable silence, there's something that's weighing heavily on my mind. I decide I'd better confess. "I know who you are now."

As Dec looks at me, I notice a flash of disappointment cross his face, though it's quickly replaced with a thin smile. "So you didn't know before?"

I shake my head. "No."

"Does it change your opinion of me?" A note of vulnerability is in his voice.

"No."

Now his smile is genuine… a wide, warm smile that lights up his face. "Good. I love making music and I love my band—and I'm grateful for all the fans, of course—but it feels good to be around people who don't care how many times I've been on TV or on stage."

"Well, if you'd been on the Discovery Channel or one of David Attenborough's shows, then I might start treating you like a superstar. But until then…" I chuckle, my shoulders raising slightly.

"You'll treat me like Dec?" He winks at me.

I nod my head. "Exactly."

We continue up the path. It's obvious Dec is accommodating my shorter legs by strolling at a moderate pace. Still, I find myself struggling to keep up with him. "Hey, can we slow down a bit?"

He looks at me and he seems to notice I'm panting. Immediately slowing down, he says, "Sorry." His smile is apologetic. "I walk these trails all the time, and sometimes I get lost in my own head."

"No worries," I reply. As we walk more slowly, I begin to catch my breath. "I thought I was fit, but you're something else. I think I need to call you Dash, not Dec."

He laughs. The sound makes my insides turn into mush. "Dash… I like it. And I've got a nickname for you."

The word "nickname" sends shivers through my spine. Ever since the hell I went through, a time in my life I try my best to not think about—which is difficult because I see my face every single day—I've been called all kinds of names. I should have grown used to it by now, but it still hurts. I've learned that "adding insult to injury" isn't just an idle phrase. So despite being fairly confident that Dec wouldn't say something hurtful, I hold my breath because sometimes people don't even realize that the words they say to someone might mess them up.

"You're easily the smartest person I know. Of course, there are different kinds of intelligence, but I can tell you've got that pure intelligence that comes with a love of knowledge. I'm jealous of you for that. So I'm going to call you Savvy." He rubs the back of his neck. "If you don't mind?"

Savvy. Well, isn't that cute? Flattering, too. I don't think anyone has ever complimented me on my intelligence before. Usually my nerdy nature is what bores them. So I'll take it.

"I've had worse nicknames," I say honestly, and Dec smiles at me. "Actually, I like Savvy a lot."

We continue walking up to the observatory, the conversation flowing easily, touching on everything and nothing. Dec's presence does something to me, calming the jitters I had about meeting him again. I thought knowing he's a rockstar would make things awkward, but it doesn't change a thing. He's still just Dec—easygoing, approachable—and, somehow, he makes me forget that I'm just… me. An ordinary guy, walking beside someone extraordinary.

We're nearly at the top when two women approach. One's a tall redhead, her hair loose and wavy, bright against her pale skin. The other has long, sleek black hair, with skin so smooth it looks airbrushed. They're both striking, and it's obvious they know it.

"Declan Mercer? Oh my God!" the redhead squeals, her eyes wide. "Can we get a selfie?"

Dec glances at me, a bit sheepish. "I'm sorry."

I shrug, trying to seem unfazed. "It's fine, go ahead. Do you want me to take the photo for you?"

The girls glance at me, their smiles faltering as if they hadn't noticed me standing there until now. They exchange a quick look—one that feels like I've just been sized up and dismissed. They hand me their phones anyway, though I can't miss the way they both position themselves around Dec, one arm each sliding around his waist like they have every right to be there.

A wave of jealousy washes over me—irrational, stupid—but I can't help it. I have no right to feel that way. I shouldn't even care. Yet, there it is, twisting uncomfortably in my gut.

Dec, though, doesn't seem too thrilled about their proximity, and he does that subtle, almost awkward Keanu Reeves thing—his hands hovering, never quite touching them. Relief washes over me, stronger than it should be.

He gives me a small nod, the signal to take the pictures. As I snap the photos, I try not to overthink it, but that knot of insecurity grows tighter with each passing second.

"Thanks so much, Declan!" the black-haired woman gushes, a slow, sultry smile spreading across her face. Her eyes are on him, completely ignoring me, like I'm invisible. "We're actually on our way to a pool party in West Hollywood. You should totally come with us."

Her tone leaves no room for misunderstanding—this invitation isn't extended to me. I may as well not exist in their world.

For a second, my heart sinks. They aren't even pretending to acknowledge me, their backs turned like I'm some bystander who has no business being here. It shouldn't bother me. But it does.

"Sounds fun, but I'm hanging out with Savvy right now." He says it without hesitation, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

Both women turn to look at me, their surprise palpable. It's like they can't figure out why he'd choose to spend time with someone like me. My stomach twists again, and I feel heat rising up my neck. They don't say it, but I can see it in their eyes. I don't belong here. Not with him.

My hands fidget in my pockets, my thumb nervously tracing the edge of my phone. "You can go if you want," I say, forcing a smile that feels tight on my face. "I don't mind." Total lie.

"Nah," Dec replies easily, turning back to the women. "Maybe some other time. Have fun, though."

The redhead pouts, but they both wave as they saunter off, throwing one last lingering glance over their shoulders.

Dec's hand rests briefly on my back as we move on. "That party would've been a disaster," he says under his breath, shaking his head.

I glance back at the two women, who are now laughing as they walk away, and then look up at Dec. "You really aren't the typical rockstar, are you?"

He chuckles, shrugging off the comment. "I certainly hope not."

We continue up the trail, but the doubt still lingers in the back of my mind. I'm not like those girls, or anyone who easily fits into Declan's world. He might not care about that now, but those girls sure did, and anybody else who sees us together will. And when they do, they'll all be wondering the same thing I am: why's a guy like me hanging out with someone like him?

But as the Griffith Observatory looms closer, towering over the horizon with its white domes gleaming in the afternoon light, something shifts. Declan's grin breaks through my cloud of thoughts, lighting up his whole face.

"Race you to the top?" he teases, not even waiting for an answer before bolting ahead.

For a split second, I stand frozen. But then his laughter carries back to me, tugging me out of my spiral. I laugh, too—couldn't help it even if I tried—and suddenly I'm sprinting after him, my legs burning as the incline steepens. The wind rushes against my skin, and for that moment, all the heavy thoughts slip away, replaced by the simple thrill of chasing him up the hill.

He reaches the top well before me, leaning against the railing, panting and laughing. I stumble up behind him, hands on my knees, catching my breath. No competition. He's a rockstar, after all, probably used to stuff like this. But losing feels good—strange as that sounds.

Because he didn't give me the win. He didn't treat me like some fragile guy who couldn't keep up. He didn't pity me. And I love it. Love that he sees me as his equal, as his worthy opponent, even in a silly little race. That makes everything feel… normal. Like maybe I'm not so far out of place after all.

But I also notice the way his muscles ripple under his shirt.

Declan wipes the sweat from his brow, still grinning. "Man, I haven't felt this alive in ages." He looks at me, and there's something genuine in his eyes that makes my chest tighten. "Thanks for inviting me to come with you."

I shrug, trying not to let my gaze linger on his body for too long. What the heck is wrong with me? "No problem. I love being up here."

"So, what do you think of LA so far?" Declan asks, breaking the peaceful silence.

I turn to face him, smiling. "It's pretty amazing, honestly. Everything's different from back home."

He nods, a grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, it took some getting used to. But now that I have, I don't want to leave."

"Totally agree with you," I say, but two things dawn on me. First, that even though we've known each other for such a short time, Declan has brightened my life. Which is an award in and of itself. The second is the opportunity to admire the observatory isn't something I'll ever take for granted. I love this building, and seeing it up close is the perfect reward for hiking up here.

And as if the beautiful views of the observatory weren't enough for us, we also have some excellent views of the Hollywood sign glowing golden in the sun, as well as the Wisdom Tree sitting atop Burbank Peak.

"Have you ever been inside before?" I ask him. "It's one of my favorite places to be."

Dec shakes his head. "It's never actually occurred to me to go inside; I just come up here for the fresh air and to think."

"There aren't any astronomy lectures today, but we should come back sometime, and we could always look at the sky through telescopes." Belatedly, I realize I made the assumption that Dec and I would be back here again… together. "Oh, you know, you can bring your bandmates along," I say, trying to cover my mistake. "I think they'll like it here."

Without saying a word, Declan tosses me one of his smiles, and my heart somersaults in my chest cavity. And for the briefest of moments, I wonder if I'm going into cardiac arrest. It's as if both the man beside me and the organ inside me know I was trying to cover my faux pas.

We walk up to a short wall that gives way to uninterrupted views across the city. "I doubt I'm as into it as you are, Savvy," Dec says with a grin. "But the night sky is definitely a work of art."

I nod. "It is. I love how insignificant it makes me feel." I'm looking up despite the fact that there's nothing but a cloudless blue sky above us right now. "All those stars and planets are forming, shining, and being destroyed millions of miles away—thousands of years away, even. So what does anything that happens here on Earth matter?"

Suddenly, I feel Dec's hand feather over the back of mine. With a hand that clenches and legs that feel weak, I sense the hair on my arms and the nape of my neck rise. Nerves flutter in my belly. My instinct is to run. My therapist told me it'll still be a while before my fight-or-flight response to unexpected situations returns to normal. But I don't want to run. I want to let Dec—Dash—in. A little bit, at least.

"Not even the brightest star in the galaxy should make you feel insignificant," he tells me.