Page 35 of That: Taylor & Brooks

He placed a hand at the small of her back gentle and guided her toward the car.

He glanced over at her, noting how she kept fidgeting with her dress, lost in thought. “You been quiet. How did the other day go with your people?”

“I didn’t tell them yet. I sort of wanna just pop up single one day. Like Tada magic,” she half joked.

“You don’t owe nobody no explanations,” he said, his hand finding her knee and squeezing gently. “When you ready to tell them, you tell them. Until then?” He shrugged. “Let them keep thinking what they want.”

“Easy for you to say. You don’t have,” she stopped, the words dying in her throat, feeling insensitive.

“Nah, you’re right I don’t have parents.”

“Brooks, I’m sorry I didn’t mean it that way.”

“I ain’t tripping because you right, but I know what it’s like having people expect you to be something you ain’t.”

He wasn’t offended by her words. She was right. His thumb traced circles on her knee as he drove. She felt like his passenger seat was where she belonged.

“Sometimes you gotta choose your own peace over other people’s comfort. I’m learning that day by day.”

Taylor loved the way he could take her worst moments and turn them into understanding.

Before she could find the words to express that, they turned onto Highland Avenue, the city lights sprawling before them.

“Kettle21?” Taylor’s eyes widened as they pulled up to the exclusive restaurant perched at the city’s highest point. The rave was its rotating dining room offering panoramic views. “Brooks, this is too much.”

“No it’s not. You don’t get to determine that for me. Don’t worry about that shit tonight,” he said,coming around to open her door. The sight of her stepping out had his dick struggling against the fabric of his slacks. Her leg extended between the slit missing from her dress like a piece of pie. His eyes closed. The confident sway in her walk told him she knew exactly how good she looked. Pride swelled in his chest knowing he’d contributed to that glow in some small way.

“I know I said it before, but you look incredible tonight.” His voice dropped lower, meant just for her. Her lips curved into a smile, and she dipped her head to hide it.

“I don’t mind hearing it again.”

Brooks laced his fingers through hers, savoring how perfectly her hand fit in his, and led her inside. The maître d’ guided them to a private corner booth with panoramic views of the city lights below. Taylor slid in, and he caught the way her eyes widened as she took in the view.

“You wanna drink? Or are you cool on that?” Brooks asked carefully, his voice carrying a gentle respect that made Taylor look up from the menu. She knew what he was doing—trying to be mindful of her church background. She wasn’t too holy to enjoy a drink.

“Brooks Bishop, don’t do that. I can have a good time.” She was a little offended that he thought she was a stick in the mud.

A slow grin spread across his face, equal parts relief and appreciation. “My bad. I just didn’t want to assume. Your faith, your relationship with God, I respect it. Never want to come between that or make you feel like you gotta compromise to be around me.”

The sincerity in his voice touched her. After Tyree, who’d spent the last year trying to make her feel small for her beliefs, who’d roll his eyes now when she mentioned church, this was refreshing.

“Thank you for that,” she said gently, meaning it. “You don’t know how much that means. Do you go to church?” She asked.

“Nah, not my thing.”

“And why not Brooks? You don’t believe?”

“It’s not that. I ain’t been since I laid my momma to rest. Two funerals in two years was a lot for me and I don’t know…” his voice drifted off.

Taylor grabbed his hand. Brooks exhaled. “I don’t know if I stopped believing. I just don’t know where I stand with Him anymore. You lose people like that, back to back, and it makes you question a lot.”

Taylor nodded, squeezing his hand gently. She didn’t know grief or pain of losing a parent, but she knew grief. She was migrating through her own level of grief. She also understood the questioning God and his plan. Because some days she was too. She’d gone back and forth on if God was mad at her about her divorce, she was struggling too and she knew him intimately. She could only imagine how Brooks felt.

“You don’t have to have it all figured out,” she said, her voice soft but certain. “God’s big enough to handle your questions, your anger, all of it. He’s not looking for perfect people, Brooks. Just honest ones.”

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You starting to sound real parental right now. She used to say‘you ain’t gotta go looking for God, Brooksie, He already there.’”

“She was right,” Taylor said, offering him a smallsmile. His eyes went blank, and she caught it. She’d never had any man be this vulnerable around her. Tyree turned his vulnerability into manipulation. She’d shut right down when he started naming the reasons he’d become an alcoholic.

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