Page 3 of That: Taylor & Brooks

I need… She started typing again, then stopped.

Need was too strong a word. Need meant vulnerability. Need meant admitting something was wrong. Delete. The cursor blinked back at her in a steady rhythm, matching the thud of her pulse. Before she could change her mind, she hit the call button.

One ring. Her heart stumbled.

Two rings. Three.

She almost hung up. Her thumb hovered. She even laughed at herself, quiet and nervous. Why was she acting like this?

Then, his voice—deep, full of weight not volume—became music to her ears.

“Speak.”

Taylor closed her eyes and exhaled nerves racing up her spine with purpose. Doubt flooded in fast, loud and familiar.

Why am I even doing this?

Why would a man I barely know show up for me… when my own husband won’t?

The ache came quick, Tyree at seventeen, waiting by her car with two cups of coffee and a Colgate smile.

The one that made her break every rule in her daddy’s book. He’d been so beautiful then, so full of God and gospel and big plans for their future.

Now? The only thing he worshipped was what waited for him at the bottom of a bottle. And her teenage dreams? They’d soured into adult disappointments. She couldn’t remember the last time he looked at or treated her as a husband should.

She wasn’t just tired of waiting on Tyree to get it together. She was tired of the way his downfall made her feel small. How his problems had become her own.

His problems were always more important than her needs. Debt climbing. Lawyers, court fees, car repairs. She was left feeling invisible. As though she was asking for too much when all she ever wanted was the man he used to be. Who she needed him to be.

Her grip tightened around the phone.

“Hey, Brooks? Uhm… it’s Taylor,” she expressed, glancing around like she was sneaking out of church. Her voice was low, unsure.

“I know it’s you, Tay. What’s wrong? What’s up?” He asked.

She swallowed, forcing the words out. “Brooks, could you do me a favor? I need a favor.”

The second the words left her lips, relief rushed in to replace the embarrassment. But something in his tone made her pause. He’d called her Tay. Soft. Familiar. Like it was natural. Like he’d been saying it for years. When he hadn’t, at least not in her face.

It didn’t line up with the Brooks Bishop she thought she knew. He wasn't warm. Not in the obvious way. He didn't linger in feelings, didn't offer comfort, but something about him still held you.

He didn’t need to be loud. His silence spoke.

There was a low kindness in his voice, like an open door. That Tay? That,What’s wrong? What’s up?Made her feel like she could ask him for anything.

Brooks had always been a presence she saw but didn’t really see. He was around because the only person he prioritized was Blake.

Nevertheless, tonight… she had called him.

And he had answered.

Her screen lit up, and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. His name popped up again, FaceTime. No warning.

What the hell is going on with him tonight?

His handsome face filled her phone screen just as he filled every room he entered. Even through FaceTime, he commanded attention, all six foot five of him radiating authority. Tonight, he wore his glasses instead of contacts, and something about the way they softened his sharp features made her stomach flutter.

The toothpick in his mouth caught her attention, it was between perfect teeth.

---