Page 33 of That: Taylor & Brooks

“Oh shit... T, what you doing here?”

Her birthday.

The one night she thought she’d feel seen. All she wanted was effort.

She didn’t answer him. Just helped him out of the bar, heels clicking angrily against the pavement. He reeked of vodka, sweat, and selfishness. She buckled him into the passenger seat and drove home in silence.

“I’m sorry. I got fired today. I needed to take the edge off.”

He said before passing out on the couch.

She went upstairs alone.

Peeled off the dress in the dark. Sat on the edge of the tub and stared aimlessly at the wall. It wasn’t about the dinner, not really. It was about this being a recurring theme.

She slept in the guest room that night.

That next morning, she waited for an apology, a real apology, not a sorry, but... And it never came.He never even mentionedit.

He just scrolled like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t been an afterthought. Like she deserve to be celebrated.

That was the moment something in her started to unravel. The beginning of the emotional one sided goodbye. The first real seed of knowing she couldn’t keep doing this.

That night had been the beginning of the end.

And now, two years later, she was still learning how to choose herself. Whatever Brooks was doing scared her, but she couldn’t help but lean into it. The line in the sand blurring day by day.

Chapter 9

November 8th

Brooks adjusted his cufflinks again, ensuring they were perfectly placed. He stepped back checked his reflection in his bedroom mirror before sliding on his watch. He hadn’t been this nervous about a date since... hell, possibly ever.

“You acting like a teenager,” he muttered to himself, checking his watch again. 4:30 PM. He’d meant to wait another fifteen minutes before leaving, but staying still felt impossible. The cologne he’d chosen filled his nostrils as he adjusted his chain one last time.

All he could think about was Taylor. How she’d been slowly letting him see beneath her perfect facade. She’d started texting him good morning or checking on his day before he could. Simply put, Taylor made him want things he’d given up on years ago.

This wasn’t just dinner, not for him at least. This was him laying his cards on the table, letting her see exactly what she did to him. And what he would give her if she allowed him to. All that terrified him in the best way possible, but he wasn’t running from it.

Brooks checked his watch again as he pulled up to Taylor’s house. 4:55 PM. He was early, but he’d been ready for hours. Behind him, Rex and his crew were waiting in their van, ready to start work the moment they left.

“Remember,” he said into his phone, “I want the whole system up before we get back. Cameras, motion sensors, everything.”

“We got you,” Rex replied.

His knuckles had barely grazed the door when it swung open, and everything in him stilled. Taylor stood there in the dress he’d chosen, the silver looking better on her than he imagined when picking it out.

Her brown skin glowed in the evening light. She’d cut her hair it was in a soft bob framing her face like art. It was perfect. Those glossed lips curved into a smile that had him forgetting every smooth line he’d practiced. All his words and sense just evaporated.

“Say something,” she said sweetly, fidgeting with her small purse, suddenly shy under his intense gaze.

“Damn.”

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. But there it was. Like an exhale, she’d knocked the wind out of him. His eyes swept over her slowly, taking in every inch of her.

There was something different in her eyes. Something calmer. Warmer.

For a second, he thought about canceling the night entirely.

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