TNT Short Fics

From that first moment we met

Taylor is late. She's sitting in the car biting her nails and she's ten minutes late.

Fuck.

Drew stuck his head in the back five minutes ago to check on her, but she'd let him know with a look what was up. He'd simply nodded and said to let him know if she wanted to leave or go in. A reminder that she was in charge of how this night went.

Still, here she is. Frozen.

Her phone pings sending her stomach into a free fall. Not because of who is on the other end but because she recognizes she's fucking this up.

Traffic bad?

She knows she can fib and say yes. Buy some time. Or even give some excuse and go home. Back to her empty house and a glass of wine. Forget she ever tried this. But then she remembers the sight of his face from three days ago on FaceTime. Of excitedly telling him about a recording session with Aaron and him just watching her, listening attentively with his chin propped on his hand. He is a good listener. It spurs her to pick up the phone and type.

I'm here. I'm just...stuck.

Stuck?

Scared.

After her confession, another text does not come through. The dots don't show he's typing either. So that is that, she guesses. He finally gets that she's too much.

A minute later, a knock comes on the window and Drew opens the door once again. And there, just over his shoulder, is Travis. He looks great with perfectly tailored slacks, a button-down linen shirt with a light pattern interwoven through that showcases his unique style, chain around his neck visible from his open top buttons. Maybe great is an understatement. He's made an effort. Flown all the way here. And she can't even get out of the fucking car.

Drew steps back and Travis stands in the door with his hands in his pockets. Taylor appreciates that he at least came to tell her goodbye in person. It solidifies the view of him she's formed while getting to know him over the past couple of weeks through texts and FaceTime. He's a good guy.

Despite what she thinks, he does not do that. Instead, he rocks back on his heels, smiles at her, and asks, "Can I get in?"

Oh.

"Um, okay," she says, surprise laced through her words.

He climbs in and Drew shuts the door behind him. Silence surrounds them and she starts to pick at the hem of her skirt. It took an hour for her to decide what to wear. In her excitement for tonight, nothing had seemed right. She tries to claw her way back to that feeling. The ghost of it reminds her why she even left the house and she looks over at him. He's turned towards her but he doesn't look mad or even like he's anticipating anything.

He's just waiting for her. No expectations.

"I'm sorry," she says quietly.

"Hey, no," he reassures her. "You don't have to be sorry."

"I'm ruining this," she argues.

"Nah, not at all."

She eyes him skeptically. "This is not what you flew all the way here to do," she says with a wave around the car, pointing out that they are sitting in the back of a bullet-proof SUV in the parking garage of a Michelin-star Italian restaurant.

"I flew here to hang out with you, Tay," he responds, gesturing between them. "Looks like that is exactly what I'm doing."

She scoffs but something settles in her stomach at his words. She turns a bit in her seat to face him more fully, feeling the tiniest bit braver.