Don't Blame Me

Chapter 8. Just Keep Swimming, Swimming, Swimming

Taylor's Pov

We finally arrive at the beach house exactly 7 hours before the game starts and in all honesty, you would have never guessed the drive was almost three hours. Riding with y/n made it seem like 30 minutes max. The way she's so happy when she sings, I really wished I had her optimism in all of my songs. Not that I can even come close to reciprocating the kind of energy she emits. She truly is one of a kind.

We step out of the car together, and I grab our bags. I rented an Airbnb for the day just so we'd have privacy and a somewhat private beach before the game. I really like y/n a lot, but it truly is a miracle we've gone without paparazzi spotting us. I really don't want to scare her away when they do find us, because eventually, they will, and it will get intense. No doubt about it.

We make out way inside and I set her bags down on the bed. The house is fairly small with one bedroom, and two baths, one being inside the house and the other outside on the back patio for people coming in from the ocean. It's a pretty cozy home, but it's too bad we won't be here for too long.

"Is this place yours?" I hear her ask as we meet up in the living room.

"No, it's an Airbnb," I admit.

"Oh, how foolish of me to think you have a humble abode" She smirks playfully at me.

"What do you mean?" I ask, tilting my head.

"I don't know. I was kinda shocked to find out you lived in a mansion. I mean I'm not sure why. You literally make so much money from your songs. I just thought you were more, I dunno, humble about your money and the things you spend it on. That's all, really. I honestly don't mean anything by it. Really, Taylor, I don't. It was just an observation." She explains, sort of like she's pleading that I don't hate her for speaking her mind. I could never hate her. I really need her to understand that. I do value her opinion, a lot more than I should. So it does hurt to know that I hit below her expectations. She's right, I do make a lot of money and I spend it on nice things. I deserve these nice things because I earned them though. I know she understands that based on what she said. But something about her still being disappointed in me makes me want to do better. She probably thinks I'm spoiled and rich like most celebrities, oh god, how do I fix that? I mean she's right, isn't she? 8 homes really is excessive. I'm lucky if I'm even in three in the same year. Jesus, Taylor, that sentence alone screams privilege. I really do need to do better, don't I?  Where do I ev-

"Did I just lose you, Tay?" she asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

"No, never." I smile at her.

"I was just thinking. Maybe I'm not quite the most humble person. " I chuckle.

She immediately shakes her head.

"I didn't mean it as an insult" she begins to say before I interrupt her.

"No, I know. It's okay!" I smile reassuringly.

" I was thinking of ways of how I can be while still appreciating finer things," I explain.

"Well, the good news there is that charity and generosity are something we all need to work on. Not just the rich and wealthy. So you're not alone there." She smiles.

She pulls out her black and blue striped towel from her bag.

"Anyway, enough with the heavy. Are you ready to hit the waves?" She grins, motioning toward the back porch facing the ocean.

"As long as I'm with you" I smile softly.

I really do feel safe with her. I'm not too sure what it is about her that makes me feel this way. I think the way we're able to talk so effortlessly and the fact that she's more observant than most people. I hope that I give her the same feeling.