Chapter Text
It’s funny, she thinks, how some of her favorite moments with him aren’t the big, sweeping ones—but the small ones. The jokes. The teasing. The way he can turn any moment into something lighter, happier, somehow more themselves .
“Julia Roberts scratched my chest yesterday. How is that a thing that happened?”
She giggles tiredly, curled up against him. These mornings are rare, but they’re everything. Sleepy kisses, coffee in hand, tangled sheets, and bedhead—just them and nothing else.
“Am I going to have to fight Julia?” she asks, her voice laced with amusement.
“Nah, she wouldn’t stop telling me how happy she was for us. Besides, you’re my girl. No one else could even come close,” he says with a kiss to the top of her head.
“I can’t believe you came,” she says, shaking her head, still not quite believing it. “You surprised the hell out of me, you know.”
“Oh, I do, I got like 20 texts from your mom and friends with videos of you. Might be my new favorite thing ever, that smile,” he says, tracing a finger under her lip. It coaxes a smile out of her, and he grins back.
“No really, Trav. That… that meant so much to me,” she says, placing her hand over his on her cheek.
“I know,” he replies seriously. And he does. Over time, she’s told him about how she always hoped for someone by her side—how she thought she’d found it, but it was too good to be true. And at the first show he attended with her mom in Paris, Andrea had told him how important it was that he was there. He wanted to be there. Loved watching her kill it onstage. But he knows how much she values people showing up for her. It’s something she’s always needed."
“It means a lot,” she adds, voice soft.
He shrugs. “It was nothing. It’s what I’m supposed to do. What I want to do.”
Her eyes light up as an idea suddenly hits her, and she sits up with a burst of energy. “Wait, wait. Sit here a minute. Just be my friend Travis.”
“Your friend?” he asks, confusion flickering across his face as he turns to fully face her. “I don’t—”
“Shush,” she continues, climbing into his lap. “Listen to me. I wanna talk about what my sweet boyfriend did. And as my friend, you are obligated to listen.”
He raises an eyebrow, a teasing smirk spreading across his face. “Okay, Tay.”
“Hey, Trav?” she says, her voice light with mischief.
“Yeah, girl.”
She immediately flops back across his legs, flinging her arm over her eyes for dramatic effect as she exclaims, “No! You can’t call me that!”
He chuckles, clearly amused. “What?”
She sits up again, narrowing her eyes at him as if he’s missing the point entirely. “Friend Travis wouldn’t call me ‘girl.’ You’re flirting when you call me that,” she says, poking him in the chest for emphasis.
“Maybe I’m your friend with a crush on you,” he teases. “I mean, I totally would have a crush on you if you were my friend.”
“Travis, treat me like one of your boys,” she insists.
He rolls his eyes, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “Sup, bro?”
She gives him a withering look, her lips curling into a small, amused frown.
“Okay, okay!” He throws his hands up in mock surrender. “What’s up, Taylor Alison?”
She sighs but continues brightly, “You’ll never believe what happened. You know how my boyfriend had to go to a wedding and was going to be gone for over a week? And how I told you how much that sucked?”
“Oh, your handsome boyfriend? You mentioned it…and how hot he was.”
She giggles into his chest. “He surprised me. Showed up right in the middle of August like it was nothing. Just smiled at me from across the crowd like it was the easiest thing in the world to hop a plane and make it to the show.”
“Maybe it was?” he says, tilting his head slightly, his voice light, but his eyes are searching hers for an answer.
“What? Easy? How so?” she asks, half-laughing, still not quite understanding.
He shifts his gaze, his expression softening as he looks at her. “Maybe, it’s easy to hop on a plane when you love someone that much. Maybe that is how love is supposed to go.”
The words land between them, and she falls silent, her playful grin fading as she looks at him. The moment shifting from lighthearted to something deeper, catching her in the chest.
“You’re pretty easy to love, you know that, right, Tay?” he says, his voice lower now, like he means every word.
She inhales sharply. Because no, she didn’t know that. In fact, she has years of evidence to the contrary.
He looks steadily at her, the game falling away, replaced with quiet sincerity as he repeats, “You’re easy to love.”
“Travis.” Her voice catches, heart in her throat.
He just keeps looking at her, unwavering. “Easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
At that, she pulls him in and wraps her arms tightly around him, whispering into the crook of his neck, “You’re the easiest thing to love, too.” She feels him tighten his hold around her even more.
They are quiet for a minute before he scratches at her sides to get her attention. “It wasn’t entirely just for you, you know?”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, I just…I just wanted to be here. I kept turning to tell you something at Clyde’s wedding. And you weren’t there. I just wanted to be where you were.”
She smiles widely at him, shaking her head. “I always want to be where you are, too.”
He pushes her hair behind her ear and looks up at her. “You know, it’s a good thing we have jobs that will totally allow us to do that all the time,” he laughs, lightening the serious mood.
She tips her head back with a groan. “Why do we have to be so good at our jobs? And ambitious. Jeez, Trav.”
“Right? Maybe we should become bums,” he says, before shaking his head. “We’d cave after a week.”
“One hundred percent,” she agrees, her hands resting lightly over his shoulders. “Still, I can’t wait to spend time with you after tour. I mean, we’ve still got work. I’ve got an album to record, and you’ll have training. But just time together like this? I can’t wait.” She smiles, a teasing edge creeping in. “Though I do love the surprises.”
He turns to kiss her elbow. “Good thing I like surprising you. Already plotting my next one.”
While they get a few more stolen days, their month apart is about twenty-nine days too long, if you asked either of them. Between her final sprint through Europe and his endless practices back home, they'd been counting down the minutes until Taylor’s long break finally arrived. After a few whirlwind days with family and friends, she and Travis are back home and it feels just like old times: just the two of them on a drive and a sky full of stars.
“Oh my god,” she moans.
“That good?” he asks, amused.
“Trav, you have no idea.”
He shifts in his seat before laughing, “Baby, you gotta tone it down over there. We are kind of in public.”
She smirks at him, raising an eyebrow before taking another bite and moaning even louder, this time exaggerated on purpose.
“You’re fucking rude,” he mutters, shifting again.
She giggles and reaches for her cup. “You love it.”
He rolls his eyes at her but doesn’t correct her. Because, yeah, he loves her being sassy.
“I loved this summer, but god bless Taco Bell and Baja Blasts,” she says, lifting her cup up for a cheers.
Travis takes a bite of his own taco as he nods. “Why do they hate sweet, sweet neon-colored drinks over there? Or ice, for that matter.
“Right?” she agrees quickly.
“Or air conditioning. What is their issue with being cold?”
They look at each other and crack up, laughter filling the car.
Taylor leans back against the door, tipping her head to peer up at the night sky through the open window. They’d found this secluded field by accident early on, during one of their drives before anyone knew about them. And while, sure, it had been the site of more than a few sneaky make-outs, it had also become their place to just end up with junk food, good playlists, and late-night rambling conversations. She’s missed it—missed this—more than she realized.
Her thoughts are interrupted by the swipe of Travis’s thumb across her chin. She looks back at him.
“Sauce,” he says simply, smiling.
She smiles back, feeling warm inside, and blurts, “I missed this.”
“Taco Bell?” he teases.
“No, this,” she asserts, pointing between them. “I love talking to you on the phone. And I had fun at Watch Hill with everyone. But this? I just missed us. Just like this.”
His hand finds her knee and squeezes, “Me too, Tay.”
For a moment, they just sit there, letting the quiet fill up all the space between them.
“I don’t think I ever told you…” she starts, but nerves make her falter. Travis leans in, sensing how much it matters.
She meets his eye before continuing, “You’re my best friend. You know that, yeah?”
Travis melts at that, and she reaches to cover his hand on her knee with hers, holding on tight. His voice is thick as he nods, “I do. You’re mine too. You already know.”
She laughs, feeling tears prick the corner of her eyes. This somehow feels just as important as all their other milestones. As important as deciding to give this a real try or saying “I love you,” or that they’re going to live together. It’s the foundation of what will make this last. Make this forever.
Taylor sets her food on the dashboard and reaches for him. Hugging him tight and feeling the warmth and safety of his arms around her.
He pulls back slightly to kiss her forehead, giving her the fondest look, before whispering, “You have taco breath.”
“Travis!” she laughs, pushing him away. She smacks his shoulder as he leans away, giggling.
“Oh my god, the look on your face,” he wheezes, trying to catch his breath.
“I take it all back,” she grumbles, arms crossed.
But he leans back in, undeterred, and kisses her, taco breath be damned. It’s a kiss full of all the things they missed—comfort, laughter, love, and friendship—woven into the space between them.
“No, you don’t,” he murmurs against her lips before kissing her again.
As they pull apart, she runs her hand across the back of his head, her heart so full it aches. “No, I don’t.”
They clean up the mess of crumpled wrappers and empty cups, laughing when Travis nearly dumps a bag of hot sauce packets onto the floor. Then he puts the car in reverse and slowly eases back onto the dark road, headlights slicing through the empty night.
Taylor turns the music up, humming along to some old country song, and leans in to rest her hand on the back of his neck. Her other hand trails lazily through the warm summer air spilling in from the open window.
The night stretches out ahead of them, endless and sweet, and they drive—windows down, hands touching, laughter floating into the night.