Tayvis One-Shots

distracted

Travis's POV

Taylor's hand slipped into mine as we walked through the team facility, her delicate fingers a stark contrast to my rougher grip. She had insisted on coming today, something about wanting to "see what all the hype was about" when I told her I had a team meeting. I couldn't say no. Not to her.

"Are you sure it's okay for me to be here?" she asked, her voice laced with genuine curiosity.

I smirked down at her. "You're Taylor Swift. You could sit in on the meeting and write a song about it, and no one would say a thing."

She laughed, the sound light and musical, and I swore it turned a few heads as we entered the meeting room. Guys on the team gave her nods, some offering quick waves or grins. She waved back, always warm and gracious, even when she didn't have to be.

"Are you sure you want to sit through this?" I asked her for probably the fifth time. "It's not exactly thrilling."

She shrugged. "I'm here for moral support," she said, her tone teasing. "And to make sure you don't get too full of yourself."

I smirked, guiding her to a seat toward the back of the room. "You mean distract me."

Her innocent smile didn't fool me.

We sat down near the back of the room, Taylor settling in beside me with her not-so-subtle Chiefs-themed sweater, one I suspected she wore just to make me smile. The meeting started, Coach Reid diving into the game plan for the week, but my attention... well, it wasn't entirely on the screen or the playbook in front of me.

Taylor leaned over to whisper something, her breath warm against my ear. "Do you understand everything he's saying?"

I chuckled under my breath. "Most of it. It's just football talk."

She nodded, her expression thoughtful, like she was trying to decode the strategy herself.

A few minutes later, she nudged me again, this time to point out a typo in one of the slides on the screen. "Should I tell him?" she whispered, her lips quirking up in a grin.

I bit back a laugh. "Probably not."

But, man, it was hard to focus on Coach Reid's breakdown of the defensive coverage when Taylor was next to me, making quiet jokes and scribbling little notes on a pad she'd borrowed. I was trying, really trying, to focus, but Taylor leaned closer to me, her lips brushing my ear.

"Hey," she whispered, her tone conspiratorial.

"What?" I muttered, keeping my eyes on the screen.

"Why do football players make terrible pirates?"

I glanced at her, confused. "What?"

She grinned. "Because they keep fumbling the booty."

I snorted so loudly I had to pretend to cough to cover it up. A few heads turned in our direction, and I waved them off, trying to look serious.

"Taylor," I hissed under my breath. "You're going to get me in trouble."

She leaned back, looking far too pleased with herself. "What? It's a solid joke."

I shook my head, turning my attention back to the screen, but not for long.

A few minutes later, she nudged me again. "Travis," she whispered, her tone laced with mischief.

I sighed. "What now?"

"Do you know why the football team went to the bakery?"

I narrowed my eyes at her. "I swear, if this is another-"