Broken Records | Tayley

Chapter 11: A New Rhythm

Taylor's POV

The morning after Hayley left, my phone buzzed on the nightstand, waking me from a restless sleep. My first thought upon waking up was her, the memory of last night lingering in my mind like a dream I wasn't ready to wake from. I reached for my phone, half-expecting some deep, soul-baring text about what had happened between us.

Instead, I found a picture of Alf, tongue lolling out and a caption that simply read: "Good morning from this goofball."

I couldn't help but smile, a chuckle slipping out as I stared at the screen. It was so her to keep things light, to find comfort in the everyday moments. I got out of bed soon after and decided that coffee would help my growing headache. I snapped a picture of my coffee mug on the kitchen counter and sent it back with a simple: "Good morning from this tired dude."

It felt natural—falling into this easy back-and-forth, even after the charged moment we'd shared. If anything, it was a relief that we hadn't let things get awkward. We both seemed to be testing the waters, finding a new rhythm that hovered somewhere between friends and something more. I wasn't sure what to call it, but I was happy to follow her lead, one text at a time.

Hayley's POV

Days passed in a comfortable blur. Taylor and I texted each other constantly, the steady stream of messages like a lifeline that kept me tethered to something real, something good.

He sent me pictures of his guitar, strings half-replaced, with captions like "You'd think I'd have mastered this by now...". I responded with a picture of the tangled mess of earbuds I'd found at the bottom of my bag, typing back: "Some things are just impossible, I guess." It was the kind of mundane conversation that felt like home—a reminder that despite everything, we were still us.

But beneath the surface, there was a subtle shift—a new layer to our connection that hadn't been there before. Every text felt like a thread pulling us closer together, the memory of our kiss lingering in the spaces between the words.

Taylor's POV

It wasn't just the texts, though. There was something about the way our conversations lingered now, how I found myself rereading them when I couldn't sleep, or how I'd catch myself grinning at my phone like an idiot whenever her name popped up on the screen. The days blurred together in a haze of shared jokes, random thoughts, and the kind of easy, comfortable silence that only comes with knowing someone so well.

But there was also the unspoken—those moments we both seemed to avoid mentioning, like an unspoken agreement to keep things light, at least for now. And yet, every time she sent a picture of Alf or asked about my day, I felt that pull again, the one that reminded me of how close we'd come to something more.

Hayley's POV

Life started to feel lighter, easier. My days were still filled with the usual mix of writing, recording, and taking Alf for long walks, but there was a new undercurrent of warmth that made everything a little brighter. Taylor had always been there for me, but now it was different—there was a softness to his words, a hint of something more behind every message.

When I told him about a new song I was working on, his response was immediate: "Can't wait to hear it. You always amaze me." And there it was again—that subtle reminder that he was more than just a friend, that something had shifted between us, even if we were both pretending it hadn't.

I found myself reaching for my phone throughout the day, eager to share the little details of my life with him, knowing he'd respond with something that made me smile. It was like we were both waiting for the other to make the first move, and in the meantime, we were content to let this new rhythm carry us forward.

Taylor's POV

One afternoon, I found myself staring at my phone, wondering how it was possible to miss someone I'd just seen. Hayley's last text had been a simple one—a picture of Alf dozing in a patch of sunlight, his fur glowing golden. I'd sent back a quick "Looks like he's living his best life," but my fingers hovered over the screen, itching to say more.

I wanted to ask her about that night, about where we stood now, but something held me back. Instead, I sent her a picture of the sky outside my window, the clouds heavy with the promise of rain. "Storm's coming," I typed, hitting send before I could overthink it.

Her reply came almost instantly: "Perfect weather for a good book. Or a deep conversation."

I stared at her words, the suggestion hanging in the air between us. Maybe we were ready to talk about what was really happening, to finally acknowledge the shift we'd been dancing around. Or maybe we'd keep playing this game, each of us waiting for the other to make the first move. Either way, I was willing to wait—because whatever this was, it was worth it.

Hayley's POV

As the days continued to blend together, I found myself thinking about Taylor more often, wondering where we were headed, and if we were both brave enough to finally confront it. But for now, I was content to let things unfold at their own pace, to enjoy the easy connection we'd always had, even if it was tinged with something new.

And as I curled up on my couch that evening, phone in hand, I realized that maybe—just maybe—life was starting to feel good again. And that was more than I'd hoped for.