What This Could Be | A Joe Jonas Fanfic | Book One

Chapter 42: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

*Taylor's POV*

Bzzz! Bzzz!

I furrowed my eyebrows, pulling my phone out of my pocket. There shouldn't be anyone at this time calling me.

Immediately, I answered seeing that it was Joe, "Hey, Babe, everything okay?" He wouldn't have called if it wasn't important, especially knowing I would be busy working. 

"Hey," he sounded bothered, "Can I pop over?"

I put down my paintbrush, "Uh, yeah, of course. You know I'll be back in a little bit though, right?"

"I think it'd be better if I go to you," he replied, causing my anxiety to rise, "I'll be there in ten, yeah?"

"Okay, yeah," I stammered, "I'll unlock the door for you."

"Thank you," I heard the clinging of keys on his end, "Love you."

"Love you too," I returned the phrase before he hung the call up, leaving me sitting on my floor, puzzled with the urgency and the lack of reassurance that everything was okay.

Unlocking the door, I went back to my painting, having no idea where I even left off or what needed to be added. My stressed thoughts occupied any plans I had, ultimately giving up and tossing my paintbrush back onto my easel.

"Bub?" I quickly turned around and dashed out of my art room at the sound of Joe walking in.

I would've been excited to see him, but his face provided a different emotion, "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Can I talk to you?" He fidgeted with his silver band bracelet.

I nodded, leading us both on the couch, the copy of our canvas straight above us on the wall, "Babe, you're kind of scaring me."

"I'm sorry. This might not be the perfect timing, although I'm not sure when or if there would be," he held my hands tenderly, "I just know this guilt won't go away if I don't tell you. We said from the beginning, we would always be honest no matter what it is. I don't go back on my word."

"This isn't helping," my heart raced, wishing he would just spit it out and get it over with.

I could see the clocks churning in his head before he responded, "Last night I had a sex dream."

I cocked my head slightly, "Okay?"

"About you and Liv," he admitted.

My eyes left his, my body frozen on how to respond. Why was he telling me this? Did he catch feelings for Liv? Did something happen on the road that I wasn't aware of?

"I don't like her like that," he continued, "I don't know why I dreamt that honestly."

"Why would you feel guilty if it meant nothing?" I asked. Nothing about this added up.

"Because I think in a way my brain is telling me I cheated because of my past relationship?" he replied, trying to make sense of it all himself by speaking out loud without any filter, "Like, if I keep something from you, it'll just equate to dishonesty and betrayal. I don't want that. I want to be able to tell you everything. The good. The bad. The ugly. All of it. Even if it makes it messy or awkward. At least we can say we were always honest. No secrets between us."

I stared at him for a minute, the suspense making him uncomfortable. In a way though, I felt like he deserved to feel a little discomfort by making me think of all the way worse scenarios than this.

"So you don't like her, and nothing happened between you guys while you were away?" I asked for more reassurance.

"No. Nothing happened between us, and I don't like her," he squinted his eyes at the thought, "It was just a really weird and extremely vivid dream."

I leaned back, my stare still on him, "Was it hot at least?"

My question caught him off-guard. "Um," he awkwardly laughed, "I mean, I would've rather it just be me and you."

I smirked, "This couch is still pure if you want it to be just me and you."

His eyes lit up, "So you're not mad?"

I shook my head, "Nah. She's hot. I'm hot. You're hot. I get it."

"What about your work? Don't you need to finish up some pieces?"

"Just shut up and fuck me already," I pulled him on top of me.

I wished I could say my mind was strictly on Joe, but I'd be lying. I couldn't be mad at something he had no control over, didn't actually do anything, and yet still felt guilty enough to tell me. I had no room to talk. I couldn't even tell him my secret, guilt and all.