Back To You

Can we talk about this? (8)

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of clinking glasses, breakfast chatter, and painfully obvious side-eyes from Olivia.

I stayed mostly quiet at the table, picking at toast I didn't want, sipping coffee I didn't ask for. It was hard to focus on anything with Tayler sitting two seats away like nothing happened. Like he hadn't kissed me on the patio with hands that knew exactly where to hold me.

Every time I looked at him, my heart did that annoying skip thing. And when I wasn't looking at him, I was very aware of the fact that he was there. Breathing. Moving. Existing like he belonged next to me again.

"You're zoning out," Olivia whispered, leaning toward me while everyone else talked over each other.

"I'm not."

"You so are."

I didn't answer. I didn't need to.

She nudged me gently with her elbow. "Look, I'm not trying to get all up in your love story, but if you like him again... just be honest about it. With yourself, at least."

I didn't respond. Because what was I supposed to say?

I liked him. I always had.

That was the problem.

⸻

By midday, most of the group had peeled off. Nate and Cody were going to meet some friends for lunch, Markell was trying to fix the leaky faucet upstairs, and Aisha and Azra were already planning outfits for some rooftop event that night.

I was helping Olivia clean up the kitchen when Tayler reappeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame like he always did — like he had some personal vendetta against chairs.

"Can I borrow Madi?" he asked Olivia, not even pretending to be subtle.

Olivia gave me a look, then smirked. "Fine. But if she doesn't come back in one piece, I'm not covering for you."

I followed him out without saying anything.

We ended up on the steps out front, where the street was quiet and the heat hadn't kicked in fully yet. Tayler sat first, arms resting on his knees, head tilted toward the sky like he was waiting for it to tell him something.

I stood for a second before finally sitting beside him.

"So," he said, glancing over. "You've been avoiding me again."

"I wasn't."

He gave me a look.

"Okay, maybe a little."

We sat in silence for a moment.

Then he asked, "Can we talk about this?"

I didn't answer right away. My fingers fidgeted with the edge of my shirt. "What is this, exactly?"

He hesitated. "I don't know. But... it feels like something."

It did. That was the part that terrified me.

I sighed. "Tayler, we've done this before. It didn't end well."

"I know. But we're not the same people we were back then."

"Maybe not," I said quietly, "but the hurt's still there."

He nodded slowly. "I think about that every day."

That caught me off guard. "You do?"

"I never forgot what I did. How I made you feel. I just..." He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I didn't know how to fix it. So I stayed away."

I looked at him, really looked. He seemed different now — quieter, more sure of himself, but still with that same stubbornness behind his eyes.

He turned to me again. "Last night... this morning... that wasn't a mistake. And I think you know it."

I swallowed hard. "It's just hard to trust you."

"I don't expect you to trust me overnight. But maybe you can give me a chance to show you I've changed."

I didn't say anything, but something in my chest shifted.

He gently nudged my knee with his. "Let me take you somewhere. Just us. No group. No drinks. Just... time."

I hesitated. "Like a date?"

He grinned. "Like a non-date that might feel like a date."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of my mouth.

"I'll think about it," I said.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"You would."

He stood up and offered me a hand. I didn't have to take it, but I did anyway.

His fingers wrapped around mine like they'd never forgotten how.

And maybe they hadn't.

⸻

That night, the group ended up back in the living room — music playing low, the lights dimmed, and everyone tangled up in blankets, popcorn bowls, and inside jokes.

I sat between Olivia and Azra, trying to focus on the movie, but my eyes kept drifting across the room.

Tayler was leaning back in the armchair, one hand behind his head, the other draped across the side. Relaxed. Watchful.

He caught me looking.

I looked away too fast.

My stomach flipped.

Olivia leaned in and whispered, "You're so obvious."

"Shut up."

But I smiled.

Because for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel broken when I looked at him.

I just felt something dangerously close to hope.