He's my endgame! (Tayvis)

The drive home

Taylor didn't speak right away.

She buckled her seatbelt slowly, fingers lingering against the fabric like she needed the confirmation that she was still here, still present in her body. The front door closed behind them, and the sound echoed in a way that felt heavier than it should have.

Travis waited. He always did.

He backed out of the driveway carefully, glancing once at the house before turning onto the street. The neighbourhood was quiet, tree-lined, orderly, familiar in a way that made Taylor feel like she had just crossed an invisible threshold.

"Well," he said eventually, voice light but measured, "I'm ninety percent sure your dad didn't hate me."

She laughed, the sound slipping out of her before she could filter it. It surprised her how much she needed that release.

"Ninety percent?" she teased. "You're generous."

"I'm an optimist."

She turned her head to look at him properly then. Travis Kelce, professional athlete, public personality, man who filled stadiums without thinking twice — sitting in her passenger seat aftermath like this, thoughtful and almost reverent, like he understood the weight of what had just happened.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

Not Did I pass?
Not Was I okay?

Just her.

That cracked something open.

"I think..." She paused, searching for the right honesty. "I think I didn't realize how tense I was until it was over."

He nodded, eyes still on the road. "That tracks."

"I don't bring people home," she continued. "Not unless it means something. And I kept waiting for my chest to tighten — for that moment where I'd want to pull you out of the room and apologize for everything."

"For what?"

"For them. For me. For the pressure." She exhaled. "It never came."

Travis smiled slightly. "Your family's great."

She hummed. "They can be intimidating."

"Yeah," he admitted. "Your mom has a look."

Taylor laughed again. "She does."

They fell into a stretch of silence that didn't feel awkward — just thoughtful. The city lights passed by in soft blurs, and Taylor found herself replaying moments from the evening: the way Travis had listened instead of talking, how he'd asked her dad questions without turning them into a performance, the way he'd thanked her mom for dinner like it genuinely mattered.

"You didn't try to be impressive," she said suddenly.

He glanced at her, curious. "Was I supposed to?"

"No," she said quickly. "That's what I mean. You just... showed up."

"That felt like the safest way to do it."

"For you?" she asked.

"For us," he corrected gently.

That word — us — wasn't emphasized. He didn't wait to see how she'd react. He just let it exist between them like something tentative but real.

Taylor swallowed.

She had spent years learning how to navigate intensity — how to brace for it, redirect it, survive it. This was different. This was calm in a way that demanded more courage than chaos ever had.

"You know," she said quietly, "I used to think consistency was boring."

Travis chuckled. "And now?"

"Now it feels like oxygen."

He didn't joke that away. He didn't downplay it. He just nodded, like he understood exactly what she meant.

They pulled up outside her place, the car idling softly. Travis put it in park but didn't immediately turn off the engine. He rested his forearms on the steering wheel and took a breath.

"I want to say something," he said. "And you can tell me if it's too much."

She turned fully toward him. "Okay."

"I know this is early," he continued. "I know timing isn't exactly... ideal. I'm not trying to rush you or label anything or make promises we don't need yet." He paused. "I just want you to know I'm being intentional. I'm not here to kill time."

Her chest tightened, not with fear, but with recognition.

"I can feel that," she said. "That's why I've been letting this happen."

He smiled, soft and almost relieved. "Good."

She reached for his hand then, threading her fingers through his without thinking too hard about it. His grip was warm, steady, unassuming. It felt grounding in a way that surprised her.

"We don't have to decide what this is right now," she said. "I just need it to be honest."

"I'm really good at honest," he said. "Sometimes to a fault."

She laughed under her breath. "I've noticed."

The engine hummed around them, the world outside quiet and unaware of the small shift taking place in the front seat of a parked car.

She leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, not dramatic, not lingering. Just enough to say I'm here. When she pulled back, his smile was unmistakably real.

"Oh," he said softly. "Before you go."

She raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Your mom texted you while we were eating, didn't she?"

Her eyes widened. "How did you know?"

"Instinct," he said. "And the way you checked your phone like it might explode."

She laughed. "She said, He listens."

Travis's ears turned faintly red. "That might be the nicest thing anyone's ever said about me."

"It's high praise in my family."

She stepped out of the car, closing the door gently behind her. Before she walked inside, she turned back and met his eyes through the window.

"Thank you," she said. "For today."

"Anytime," he replied. "Seriously."

As she walked inside, Taylor felt something unfamiliar settle in her chest, not certainty, not answers.

But steadiness.

And for the first time in a long time, that felt like enough.

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Wow its been a while, I hope you enjoy. I am going to be writing all day so expect quite a few updates for this story and for others so I can catch up to where we are in real time now.