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Being on stage again feels good. Really, really good. I’m the world’s least eloquent songwriter, clearly, if good is the only word I can think of to describe the sheer, absolute bliss of playing music, but there just aren’t any words that totally encompass it all.
The only other thing in my life that comes remotely close to this feeling is sex with Taylor.
I know we’ve only gone all the way twice so far, but just being with him has always felt perfect. By Taylor’s side is my favorite place to be. That’s just the simple truth of me. I guess a big part of the reason I love being on stage again is because he’s with me. We’re together, creating something—something that’s more than the sum of its parts. Ike’s here too, but let’s be honest, my attention is focused entirely on Taylor. There’s just something great about knowing that no matter what else happens, we can always come back together and the music will be there.
Not even the events of this summer seem to have effected that, and I really don’t have the words to explain how much of a relief that is.
It’s like being at home again. That’s the best way to explain it. The music, Taylor’s embrace, his huge smile at me from across the stage… that’s where I belong. That’s my home.
We rarely get to play our full two hour set at a festival, and this one is no exception. That’s okay, though. God knows we’re out of practice, so I don’t think any of us really mind playing a shorter set after this break we’ve taken from the band. Still, it feels so good to play again that it is a little bittersweet to leave the stage so soon. It only reminds me how soon we’ll be back home in Tulsa.
Is twenty six too old to consider running away? Because I’m giving it serious consideration right now.
The biggest thing stopping me is that I don’t think I could convince Taylor to come with me. For reasons I will never be able to understand, he obviously feels some sense of loyalty to Natalie. And then, of course, there are his children—and mine as well. Even when you ignore that whole being related thing, there are just too many things standing in our way. There’s too much that we just can’t run away from.
We all stay late at the festival, signing autographs and talking to fans, but the only thing on my mind is going back to the hotel room where I can be alone with Taylor again. I do my best to be friendly and talkative, but I’m sure they can tell my mind is elsewhere. I can only hope they don’t know where. If most of our fans could see my thoughts right now, I’m pretty sure they would run away screaming. Then again, some of them might like it. I don’t think I have any room to judge those particular fans.
It’s late when we finally manage to drag ourselves away from the fans and head back to the hotel. Our flight is fairly early the next morning, so I have a feeling Taylor will want to go straight to bed. I’m okay with that, I suppose. I need him, but I’m trying not to be that needy. He starts yawning before we’ve even made it to the hotel elevator, so I know I’m right. We might cuddle, but that’s probably the most I can hope for.
After so many years of nothing, though, even a little cuddling is alright with me.
Taylor practically falls through the door, even though he’s the one holding the key card and unlocking it. He kicks his shoes off as he walks into the room, tossing aside his bags and things as he goes, not seeming to care where any of it lands. It’s kind of amusing to watch, and it’s just another sign of how tired he is. He grabs the television remote and flicks it on as he collapses onto the bed, not even facing the screen. I don’t remember him needing the tv on to sleep, but apparently he’s developed that habit at some point. I guess he’s used to being surrounded by noise.
As much as I want to join him, I know I need a shower first. I convince myself to let that wait until the morning, though, and settle for just brushing my teeth and changing into a different shirt that smells a little better than the one I just played a concert in.
Like the night before, I walk back into the room to find Taylor in his underwear with his phone held close to his face. His fingers are dancing across the screen and I don’t dare ask who he’s texting. It’s Natalie, I’m sure. We are heading back to Tulsa in the morning, after all, and even I had the good sense to text Kate earlier and ask if she was going to be at the house when I got back. Whether or not she passed along my message to the kids that I miss them, well, I guess I’ll find out when I see them. It’s not much, and I know it’s not all that they deserve, but I guess I just don’t know how give that to them.
Taylor tosses the phone aside as I climb into the bed and gives me half a smile. It’s not much, but I can see how tired he is. Once again, he holds his arms out to me like I’m a child. If I didn’t want so badly to be near him, I might be offended by how much he’s coddling me. But I want it. I’m not sure my feelings for Taylor have really evolved all that much since that first kiss. Where he’s concerned, I’m still stuck at age twelve—a desperate, horny teenager still clinging to his older brother with a childlike sense of wonder and adoration.
I wonder if that’s how he sees me. It probably is, and I wouldn’t disagree with him.
Not really caring if it makes me look pathetic, I curl up willingly into his arms. I can’t sleep as easily with the television on as Taylor can, but I’m not going to ask him to turn it off. In his arms, I can handle just about anything, I think. He kisses the top of my head gently and that’s the last thing that really registers before I drift off to sleep, lulled easily by just how wonderful it feels to be near him.
The next thing that registers is Taylor’s cell phone blaring and telling us it’s time to wake up. Neither of us is particularly willing to move, but after a few minutes, we both find the strength to pull ourselves out of bed. I still desperately need a shower, so I head for the bathroom. If I know him at all, Taylor will probably sneak out for his first coffee of the morning while I’m in the shower.
Just as I finish rinsing the shampoo from my hair, the bathroom door opens with a loud creak. I rub my eyes and glance toward the door. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but somehow, Taylor naked and walking across the tiny bathroom wasn’t really it.
He slips into the shower wordlessly and nudges me backward until my back collides with the shower wall. Then his lips collide with mine. He doesn’t taste like coffee yet, and I’m surprised; somehow the lack of coffee is the most surprising part of all of this. I’ve gotten used to Taylor just taking what he wants, I suppose. Or giving me what I want. The two are basically one and the same, anyway.
Taylor slides gracefully to his knees and takes me into his mouth all at once. I guess this is him returning the favor, although I think the sex more than made up for my rushed photobooth blow job. Whatever his motivation is, I’m not going to question it. I’m just going to lean back and enjoy the way Taylor’s mouth feels.
I’m not really at my best in the morning, so it isn’t long before I’m warning Taylor that I’m about to come. He doesn’t move—just speeds up and gets me off even faster, then swallows every drop. Once he’s licked up everything I’ve got to offer, he stands up and presses his lips to mine. It’s still a little weird to taste myself on his lips, but out of everything that’s weird about this situation, that’s really pretty low down on the list.
We finish showering together like it isn’t weird at all for us to share a shower. And I guess, compared to what we just did, actually showering together isn’t all that strange. Still, it’s not something we’ve done since we were kids. Then, it was more like a tub full of bubbles than a steamy shower that kind of smells like sex.
Once we step out of the shower, the day becomes a blur in the way that only a travel day can. It isn’t long before Bex is beating down our door to make sure we’re packed and ready to go, and then we’re off to the airport. At the airport, I play games on my phone while Taylor reads a book. I can’t help sneaking little glances at him; he’s wearing those glasses that he’ll swear are just part of his “travel disguise” but I know he really needs them. He’s self conscious about it, but I think they look really cute. I may have admitted that to him once when he asked how they looked. Honestly, I wonder how he didn’t realized sooner that I wanted him. I wasn’t exactly subtle about it.
He catches me staring right as the voice on the intercom announces that our flight is boarding. Good. The flurry of activity gives me an excuse to move away from him so that he can’t see me blushing. After everything else, I don’t know why being caught staring bothers me, but it does. Maybe I’m not ready for Taylor to realize just how much of my thoughts he occupies—if he doesn’t already know.
Without discussing it this time, we sit together. I give Taylor the window seat this time, and just as I expected, he spends the entire takeoff with his camera pressed up to the tiny window. The camera around his neck is even dorkier than those glasses, but I’ll never tell him. I like seeing him passionate about anything, especially after so many days of him looking like the walking dead. Passionate is good, even if it does mean he ends up wearing cameras the same way he used to wear all those necklaces.
The flight is unremarkable. Taylor lets me borrow his book while he takes a nap, his head lolling to the side so that it almost touches my shoulder. I have to resist the urge to scoot just an inch or two to the right so that his head will rest against me. But that would be weird and pathetic, so I don’t do it.
And then the flight is over. We’re home.
Tulsa’s airport is rarely busy, so there’s something kind of underwhelming about walking through it. Coming home should feel like more of an event than this. But what was I really expecting? What have I got to come home to? At least Isaac has Nikki and their kids, who both come running to greet him the second that we round the corner and pass into their line of sight. I don’t have anyone to welcome me home like that. Even Taylor has Natalie.
Wait.
Natalie?
I have to blink a few times to convince myself that I’m not imagining her. But there she is, surrounded by children. There’s an unmistakable smile on her face, a smile that I’ve come to know all too well over the years. It’s the smile she wore when she greeted fans during that first public appearance together, it graced her face the day they announced the pregnancy and it showed up in every single wedding photo, too.
It’s the smile that says she knows Taylor is hers and hers alone.
And it’s a smile that makes me want to puke.