Electric Touch - Tayvis One Shots

1. Big Feelings

Travis carries Taylor's bags up to the guest room where she will be staying for the next four days. He still wasn't sure why she had not only come to Kansas City to see him, but also agreed to stay with him -- after only two dates in New York (and many weeks of texting, calling, and FaceTiming). He offered to pay for a hotel, but she said his place would be good... perfect even. She used the word perfect. He grins to himself as he remembers that aspect -- perfect.

"Here's your room," Travis says placing the suitcases down on the floor in front of the closet. "I had Helena change the bedding this morning, so it's all nice and ready for you."

Taylor freezes in the doorway, a blank look on her face when she realizes that she's staying in the guest room. Of course he would put her in the guest room; he's such a gentleman. But she had -- naively, she admits -- assumed she would be sleeping in his bed, with him. She wanted so readily to nuzzle her nose into his coarse brown chest hair as she fell asleep in his arms, but maybe he didn't want that. Maybe he wasn't ready for that.

"What's wrong?" Travis asks, noticing the look on Taylor's face. "Do you not like it? I can put you in the other one if you want. Or the offer for getting you a hotel is still on the table."

"N-no," Taylor stutters, shaking her head. She doesn't exactly want to admit that she wanted to sleep with him -- sleep in the same bed with him, she corrects -- though, the other thought had crossed her mind. Hell, the thought had more than crossed her mind. She had day dreamed about it almost every night before bed for the past 4 weeks -- occasionally (okay, more than occasionally-like, way more) breaking out one of the colorful items stowed away in the drawer of her nightstand.

"Here's fine." She feigns a small smile, not making direct eye contact.

Travis makes his way back to Taylor in two large, rapid steps, taking both her hands in his gently. "What's wrong, Princess?"

Her head falls, eyes glued to her pink, cat-patterned socked feet. "It's fine," she murmurs, barely loud enough for Travis to hear.

"No it's not. What is it?" He implores. "It's okay, whatever it is. I promise."

Taylor takes a deep breath in, steadying herself, eyes still fixed on her socks. "I-I-It," she stammers. "It's just..." She lets out a choppy, nervous breath, tears threatening to spill. "Not what I imagined."

"Not what you imagined... What did you imagine, then?" Travis asks panicked. He had never seen her like this before. Was his house not good enough? Was the room not big enough? Did he not buy the right sheets? He bought new ones just for her -- 800 thread count Egyptian cotton -- even washed them in a ridiculously expensive sensitive skin, fragrance-free laundry detergent that he got just for her.

"N-No, it's fine," she chocks out a feeble attempt to allay his fears and stop the questioning.

Travis guides her towards the bed, sitting on it and pulling her to sit on his lap. He lifts her head up, forcing her watery eyes to meet his. "You've got me kinda worried, here, Taylor."

"It's nothing. I promise." She looks down at her fingers, fiddling with her rings. "I don't know why I'm making such a big deal about it. I promise I'm not a diva."

He softly combs his fingers through her long blonde hair in attempt to soothe her. "I didn't think you were, Tay... But, I can't help fix your problem if you don't tell me what it is."

She takes a deep breath, burying her head in his neck. "I wanted to sleep with you," she mumbles.

"You wanted to sleep with me?" He asks to make sure he heard her right.

She nods hesitantly. "Well, not like sleep with you sleep with you. Like, sleep in the same bed with you. And, like, that'd be nice, too, but um -" she rattles on nervously, redness spreading all the way to her ears and down her neck.  "And I'm going to shut up now," she ends, a soft nervous giggle escaping her mouth afterwards.