The Cruelest Summer

Chapter 8- We Bless the Rains on Cornelia Street

"I rent a place on Cornelia Street," Taylor said casually in the backseat of the car. "The Bowery sounds great, but um I can't really run the risk of being spotted."

She bit the inside of her cheek, cursing Taylor Swift for interrupting what was supposed to be a normal car ride. Inside the bar it had just been Taylor and Joe. Taylor from Nashville, Tennessee and Joe from London, England. Taylor and Joe could enjoy drinks and share stories without any obstructions. Things, however, were different once Taylor Swift entered the picture. Taylor Swift would ruin Taylor's opportunity to venture out to Joe's hotel room. Taylor Swift would ruin the comfortable air between the duo. Taylor Swift would undoubtedly scare Joe off.

To Taylor's surprise, the sudden squeeze of a hand pulled her out of her downward spiral.

"Hey, hey, don't worry about it. I totally understand," Joe assured her. "Besides, there's a very good chance that my hotel room is a mess, and you don't need to see that."

Taylor chuckled. God his hands are so soft. I hope he never lets go.

Much to her delight, Joe's hand remained wrapped around hers for the rest of the drive. This, however, also left Taylor feeling confused. Her and Joe had established on the walk to the car that they were going to be friends with benefits. There would be no strings attached. A relationship wasn't even on the table, with Taylor swearing off dating and Joe refusing to settle down because of his work.

She wasn't going to complain about the hand-holding though. She especially wasn't going to complain about Joe squeezing her palm again when "Sorrow" came on the radio.

Joe's face lit up the second the somber tune played through the speakers. "Hey, it's our break-up song!" he exclaimed.

Taylor grinned. "What if it's not a break-up song anymore?" she said boldly. "What if it's our song?"

Joe's eyes widened at her suggestion and he swallowed hard.

Dammit. I shouldn't have said that. Fuck me. Obviously two friends that have a strictly 'sex based' relationship, aren't going to have a shared song.

"I like that," Joe finally said. "I guess that makes the National our band too."

Taylor smiled, her momentary insecurities melting away. She felt something else melting away too: that hard exterior that she had poured over herself. It was a strange feeling. Taylor barely knew Joe and somehow he was managing to thumb through all of her different layers.

After fifteen more minutes of casual conversation, the black SUV made a right turn onto Cornelia Street. The rain still hadn't ceased, and was coming down in golf-ball sized drops. The paved road had essentially become a shallow swimming pool.

"Wait!" Taylor suddenly exclaimed, as Brandon made the turn. "You can let us out right here."

Brandon put the vehicle in park and rolled down the partition that Taylor had put up so her and Joe could make out. "Pardon?" he said puzzledly.

"We can walk the rest of the way. I have keys," she reiterated.

Brandon cocked an eyebrow and gestured to the monsoon. "Are you sure?"

Normally, Taylor would enter her Cornelia Street apartment through the garage. That was actually the standout feature that made her want to buy the property in the first place. It meant that she could avoid paparazzi harassment and seas of camera yielding fans. That kind of attention at Taylor's Tribeca apartment was starting to get to her. It was exhausting having to entertain the tropes of people outside her front door with seasoned smiles and carefully curated outfits. She needed to reinstate some normalcy in her life. Granted, being ushered out of a bullet-proof car into a secret entrance-way was still far from normal, but it beat those incessant camera clicks that only resulted in tabloid fodder.

And yet, for whatever reason, Taylor had the sudden urge to jump out of the car and into the pouring rain. She wondered how Joe had this effect on her- making her do things out of character. In the past three hours she had gone to a dive bar on the other side of town and ditched her security team. Now she was going to walk into her house...like a civilian.

"I'm sure," Taylor answered firmly.

Brandon shook his head, but nonetheless unlocked the car doors. Taylor thanked him, and tightly grasping Joe's hand climbed out of the backseat onto the rainy sidewalk.

"You're crazy," Joe laughed. They had been standing outside for half a second and were already soaked.

"I thought you liked crazy," Taylor teased. "You're either in or you're out."

"Oh, I'm definitely in," Joe asserted. He stared at Taylor for a moment, taking in her features, before bringing his free hand up to her chin. Taylor felt her stomach do a somersault as he leaned in and emphatically pressed his lips against hers.

The moment their mouths collided, she felt another bolt of electricity jump through her system. If it was even possible, this kiss was better than the one they had shared at the dive bar. Taylor had never felt so alive. She was living out the iconic Breakfast at Tiffany's kiss in the rain, where Holly and Paul embrace so passionately that the rest of the city goes quiet.

They finally pulled away, their faces wet from the rain and their smiles glowing. "Sorry," Joe said sheepishly. "I just felt like I had to kiss you in the rain, as stupid as that sounds."

"It's not stupid," Taylor murmured. "I wanted to kiss you in the rain too."

She looked around at the flooded street and the water-beaded lamp posts that were giving off irreverent glows. It was so cinematic and peculiar in the best way, that she had to let out a loud, earthy laugh.

Joe snorted at her ridiculousness. She probably could have stood on the sidewalk for another ten minutes, taking in her surroundings if he hadn't tugged her arm.

"You know Taylor, you can probably look at the street from your apartment window," he said dryly. "I've heard that the view is just as good, but less wet."

Taylor rolled her eyes, but begrudgingly led Joe to the front door, skipping through puddles.