Page 65 of That: Taylor & Brooks

The lights dimmed, and the first notes of an orchestral arrangement of “California Love” filled thetheater. Taylor’s eye grew wide as strings and brass transformed the familiar beat into something both nostalgic and completely new.

“This is incredible,” she breathed, eyes wide as a soprano’s voice soared over the melody in place of Tupac’s verses.

Brooks wasn’t watching, well not the stage at least. “Yeah, it is.”

She turned to find his eyes on her, intense and unwavering. “You’re staring.”

“Appreciating,” he corrected with a slow smile.

The orchestra moved seamlessly through Snoop, Dre, and Cube, each arrangement bringing something new while never disrespecting what made the originals hit.

When they broke into “Blow the Whistle”, Taylor couldn’t help the grin that stretched across her face, or the way her hips moved to the rhythm she knew by heart. The classical flip made it feel grown.

Just vibes.

During intermission, they stayed in their seats.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” she said softly, leaning into his side. “For all of this. The weekend isn’t even over. I just feel good.”

Brooks reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. “I love when you get to be and do what you want.”

Taylor swallowed, the truth of his words settling deep in her chest. “And what do I want, Brooks Bishop?”

“Permission to be messy. To make mistakes.” His voice dropped lower. “To be loved, treated, and fucked like the grown woman you are.”

He said simply, as the orchestra ended theirperformance with a haunting rendition of “Keep Ya Head Up” that made her throat tight.

“And FYI, I can handle all that for you.”

She blinked back sudden tears, but also very turned on. She was overwhelmed by how he completely turned her world upside down any time he opened his mouth.

The performance was over and they were back in the car. She was beaming, humming, and inspired. The performance was amazing. Breathtaking. It was beautiful. She sang, threw a little ass, held his hand, kissed him, as he leaned to kiss her at times. They were literally in their own world. But it always felt like that.

“Tell me about the dispensary. The one your friend is opening.”

Brooks allowed the pivot, launching into stories about Slim’s business venture and their longtime friendship. Taylor listened, fascinated by this glimpse into his world the legitimate businessman who still honored the hustle that got him there.

As night fell fully over Denver, they made their way back to the hotel, the city alive around them. When they finally returned to the hotel, the night air had turned colder, but Taylor barely felt it. She was warm from the inside out, glowing with good food, good music, and the way Brooks made her feel like a lady.

In the elevator, he pulled her close, his lips finding that sensitive spot below her ear that made her shiver. “You enjoy yourself tonight?” he asked, his voice a low rumble against her skin.

“Yeah, I always do when I’m with you.”

Back in their suite, Brooks took his time undressing her, his hands moving with purpose as theypeeled away her clothing. His hands slid down her waist, fingers tracing the curve of her hips, he couldn’t get enough. His lips found the hollow of her throat, kissing it gently before his teeth grazed the sensitive skin. A shiver ran through her, her body listening to her master.

“Taylor...” His voice was low, almost hesitant.

She kissed him before he could say more soft, but sure. No space for doubt.

Forehead to forehead he looked at her.

“Tell me you done running from me,” he murmured against her lips. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he needed the confirmation, reassurance.

Taylor tilted her head back. Her eyes found his.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, shaky but certain.

She paused. Looked deeper. Fear was written all over his face. Sitting behind his eyes like he was bracing for her to disappear again but praying she didn’t.

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