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He was supposed to have gone home.
Travis. Instead, he was pressed against her side, one arm around her waist, the other clutched in her hands in the back of the SUV on the way to the stadium. Another night in Gelsenkirchen, Germany, which he knew he’d be dragged for as soon as he got back to KC.
But this was more than a night at the Eras Tour. It was more than another night of sleeping next to her. It was a matter of protection. It was a matter of ensuring she was safe. It was a matter of wanting to spend every moment with her, because when they were separated, it felt as though half of him was missing. It was a matter of his brain warring with his heart.
“Get here on time,” Andy warned him on the phone earlier in the day when he called to let him know what was going on. About the stalker who had been caught trying to get into the stadium the day before, had been arrested. He was being held until the shows were over, but that didn’t mean Taylor was safe, exactly. Just for the time being. He needed to be in Missouri at training camp. But how was he supposed to leave her?
He glanced down at her next to him. Her knuckles were white, her cheeks pale. The stalker had posted sick things on the Internet about them, flown all the way to Germany from the US; Tay’s security had informed them, given them the full story. The things this guy had written about him were sickening, worrying… but what he had written about Taylor. What he wanted to do to Taylor… it was things that Travis knew would find him in nightmares.
And so he had spent another night, sleepless, holding her against his chest where he could feel her skin, feel her back as it rose and fell with her soft breathing, where he could ensure that she was ok, safe, secure.
He trusted her security implicitly. They had been with her for years, knew that these guys loved Tay and would take a bullet for her. But those guys weren’t her lover. Those guys didn’t look into her eyes and see a future of kids playing in the backyard and family trips to Philly and gray hair, rocking on a front porch.
He’d joked with Jason on the pod a few weeks back about when he’d been holding Taylor on stage. As Coach Bieniemy had once said, hold onto the football because it was their “hopes, dreams and aspirations.”
Football was, sure. It had been since he was a toddler and Jason had tossed him a stuffed pigskin. It was what he loved to do; choosing that above the other sports that he had excelled at, to the dismay of many coaches and players.
But so was Tay. His lady who he emphatically had told the New Heights listeners he was certainly not going to fumble. And he knew, with her own past with partners who simply weren’t right, and partners who sucked the life right out of her, that she wasn’t about to fumble him, either. They had shared their hopes and dreams early on, had come to common ground on big ticket items before date number four. Neither wanted to make the same mistakes as before; neither wanted to let the person in front of them, who they’d known for just weeks but felt as though they’d known for years, think that they weren’t on the same page. They knew what they wanted. And he knew that she would bend over backwards to make him happy.
He would rope the moon for her, if she asked.
So he stayed. He knew the fans were watching him all night, hoping for him to take the stage again, begging for his jovialness and the usual enthusiasm he showed at her concerts. But really, all he wanted was to get her off the stage, back to their hotel penthouse, back to safety. And back to where they’d be together, alone, for the last few moments before a month of separation.
He watched as she sang and danced all night, commanding the stage with her usual masterful presence. She strummed her guitars and her fingers danced over the keys of pianos and she smiled and was sassy and his heart felt as though it was going to beat out of his chest. He heard a final “Karma is the guy on the Chiefs,” wanting so much to raise his fists in wonderment and pride, but couldn’t find it in him. Their time was getting short. He was under the stage when she came down, immediately wrapped in his embrace.
“Amazing, baby,” he mumbled into her neck. “That was incredible.”
Now, in the comfort of their hotel bed, he looked down at her, snuggled in his arms, her forehead slightly pinched. He knew even in REM sleep she was probably thinking about everything.
He stroked down her forehead with his finger, relieving some of the tension there as her forehead smoothed out, became more placid. He kissed where his finger had stroked, pulling her into his side, his hand resting on her abdomen, and fell asleep.
Hours later, the night still deep and warm, Taylor rolled over in the dark, pulling the comforter up over her shoulder, under her ear. His hand that had been heavy on her belly now tightened on her hip.
She found it calming to listen to his breathing as he slept. The rhythmic echo of each inhale exhale in peaceful slumber. She knew he had been shook over the last couple of days, saw it in the sharpness of his tight jaw, in the way his eyes scanned doorways and hallways. Could feel it in the squeeze of his hand, in the tenseness of his broad shoulders, in the way they’d slept the evening before. They always slept close, an intrinsic need to be physically and emotionally connected, but last night he’d been fretful, subtly tightening his grasp on her, limbs tangled in their proximity.
This unfortunately wasn’t her first rodeo with a stalker. Wasn’t her first time sitting with her head of security, hearing about the sick and depraved things some guy had written about her, to her. Wasn’t the first time she’d even heard about these things with a partner next to her.
But this time, with Travis, he was hearing about this new one first hand. He listened intently, his face moving from concerned, to horrified, to worried and scared. She had held his hand as her head of security had relayed that the man was behind bars, at least through the end of the shows in Gelsenkirchen.
“It’ll be ok, baby,” she soothed after security had left. He had taken her in his arms, trembling.
“How can you be so calm?” He had asked, searching her face for any obvious concern.
Taylor had shrugged. “It’s been my life since I was a teenager.”
Travis was unrelieved. “Babe, that doesn’t make this better.”
Grasping the front of his shirt with both hands, Taylor nodded. “I know. But I love you so much, and I’m so grateful that you’re here.” She swallowed. “And seeing how this affects you… gives me some courage. Because I want to protect you, and everything we have.”
Travis’s lip quivered. “You are everything to me. You and our future. The thought of losing you to some psycho is… I can’t even imagine it.”
Taylor nodded again, fisting her hands harder into the fabric of his shirt, stepping closer.
“That’s why we have amazing security. And our future… that’s rock solid, babe. We’re going to have the most beautiful life together.”
Travis’s quivering lip finally broke, his face scrunching in tears. He had buried his face in her hair.
She held him, thinking about the beautiful future they were going to have. Summers in Rhode Island with their babies and their Kelce cousins at High Watch, and Christmases with the family in KC. Imagined taking kiddos to a Christmas tree farm like the one she’d grown up on, cutting down a 16 footer to put in the large family room with the vaulted ceilings. Imagined anniversaries in Lake Como, making love with the windows open, the sound of the rain drumming the roof, plinking against vintage panes of glass.
Now, she laid next to him, his fingers twitching on her skin. “Trav?” She whispered into the darkness, reaching to pull him closer, her hand finding purchase on his ribs.
“Mmm…” he hummed sleepily in response. “You ok, baby?”
Taylor slid closer, nuzzling her nose into his chest hair, inhaling deeply. She rested her cheek against him, the ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum of his heartbeat a comforting repetition.
“I think, if you’re ok with it, when I get back to the states, I’m going to go see my doctor in New York.”
Tay felt Travis move a bit, most likely exhaustively trying to figure out what she was talking about.
“Mmm, ok, babe…” He mumbled.
“I’m going to have her remove my IUD…”
At that, she felt him stiffen just slightly. Just enough to let her know that.. well, that woke him up. His arm wrapped around her a little tighter.
“Taylor…” He murmured into the night. “Are you…”
“I want to make a baby with you,” she interrupted. His arm tightened again. “I love you more than anything, and I want us to have a baby.”
She could feel his heart start to race a little faster.
“What about the wedding?” He asked quietly, as though talking louder would ruin this moment of honesty.
“I’ve been on birth control for more than half of my life. It’s probably not going to happen right away… and if it happens before the wedding, we’ll just get to share that joy and happiness a little more. Might change what I wear, but I think knowing we’re going to have a little baby would more than make up for that.”
She could feel Travis swallow audibly. He momentarily released her to roll over, and turn on the bedside lamp, it’s low wattage spilling into the room with a light, amber glow. He rolled back over and replaced his arm back to where it had been, firmly around her waist.
“You’re one hundred percent about it?” He asked, peering into her eyes tiredly. “I know getting pregnant before we got married wasn’t exactly the plan…”
“Fuck the plan.” She said resolutely. “My whole life has been about plans. And this is something that… we don’t even know if I can get pregnant at this point. But with Abigail having her first, and Brit and Pat having their third, I just… I am so deliriously happy for all them, they’re amazing parents. And I want that for us, too. Our little family, with a baby with your eyes and dimples and my hair and chin. I want to watch you become a husband and daddy. I don’t want to keep waiting.”
“Taylor…” He whispered, reaching up to cup her jaw with his big hand, tilting her face to bring their lips together softly. “And the stalker? We have to think about our family…”
“Travis.” Taylor interrupted. “Baby, if we wait until everything is perfect, we’ll be waiting forever. We have security. And we will have you. I know you’d do anything to keep us safe. We’ve waited so long for each other…”
Travis nodded, registering what she was saying. She wasn’t going to let anyone ruin the future they were going to make. That she wanted their future, despite everything going on around them.
Their lips moved against one another sensually, gently in the big bed, in the middle of the night. Tay manipulated the covers so she could get even closer, throwing her thigh over his hip, holding the side of his face and digging her fingers into his hair. The hand that had been around her waist found its way to her ass cheek, squeezing and kneading, pressing her into him as he gently thrusted against her.
His cock was steel when she rolled on top of him, thighs spread around his hips. She reached down to stroke him, base to tip, watching his throw his head back with pleasure at her touch.
“Travis…” she whispered, raising herself above his dick, slipping just the head inside of her wetness. She leaned forward, placing her hands on his chest, her tits erotically squished between her biceps. He looked up at her, lips parted. “Will you get me pregnant?”
Five words that set his entire body on fire.
“Fuck yes, I’m going to get you pregnant,” He managed to get out, thrusting his hips up as Taylor slid all the way down, until she was seated against his pelvis with his thick cock filling her. They both gasped at the sudden movement, Taylor leaning forward further to capture his lips with her own. She sat back up starting to move her hips, grinding herself against his pubic bone.
“Oh, that’s right, baby girl,” Trav encouraged, his hands on his hips helping to set the tempo. Her tits were squished between her biceps again, pink nipples hard and beautiful in the glow of the lamp. He dragged one hand away from her hip, threading it through her hair at the base of her skull as his hips thrust up, then slipped it over her throat, down her chest. He cupped one breast, rubbing his thumb against the tip, the nipple tightening even harder. He licked the pad of his thumb and replaced it back on her, stroking across it. The pleasure was escalating, a flush racing from her breasts up her chest, into her neck and porcelain cheeks.
“Oh, look at you,” he murmured, admiring how the blush spread. “I’m gunna fuck all of my babies into you.”
“Oh…” Taylor whimpered, her hips gyrating harder, trying to find the friction needed to cum on him. She arched her back, trying to find whatever would push her closer to the point of no return. Her eyebrows pinched together just slightly in frustration, Travis noticing immediately, grasping her by the waist and flipping them over, settling himself between her legs. He lay on his hip, holding his cock in one strong hand, rubbing the head against her sweet little pink clit.
“Trav, baby, yes,” Taylor groaned, clutching his shoulders, digging her nails into his flesh. He slipped his dick inside of her once more, sitting up on his knees and grabbing a pillow to shove under her hips, elevating her. He watched as his cock slipped in and out of her tight, velvet pussy, one hand on her hip to help keep her up and the other flat against her abdomen, his thumb circling her little bundle of nerves. It wasn’t long before her thighs started to shake around his waist.
“There you go,” he soothed, leaning over her just so to spit a drop of saliva onto her cunt, more slippery lubricant to rub her clit. “Play with your titties for me, baby.”
Taylor’s hands immediately went to her breasts as he nodded approvingly, tugging and twisting her nipples for him. “Like this?”
“So beautiful,” he whimpered as his own orgasm approached.
“I..” she moaned, matching him stroke for stroke. “Oh god, Travis, more…”
He pumped his hips a little harder, a little rougher, until he felt her squeezing him like a vice, her head thrown back, gorgeous long neck ready for gentle sucks, the long, slim pillar of her body quaking in pleasure.
Travis thrusted a few more times before succumbing to his own pleasure, burying himself deep inside of her as the orgasm rolled over him, from the tips of his feet to the base of his spine to the goosebumps that appeared on his arms as Taylor reached for him, grasping his shoulders and pulling him down on top of her.
“Oh my god,” she panted, rubbing his back, nuzzling his cheek until his lips found hers.
Travis slipped out of her, pulling the pillow from under her hips and throwing it onto the floor, before pulling her into his arms.
“How does it keep getting better?” He asked the ceiling, a bead of sweat dripping from his brow down his temple. Taylor giggled, snuggling into him, stroking his bearded jawline.
“I love you so much,” Taylor pressed a kiss to his chin. Travis smiled broadly.
“I love you more, baby.” He sighed contentedly before twisting to look at her. “You totally sure about what you said? You wanna make a baby?”
His voice wobbled just the slightest bit.
Taylor held his cheek, wiping away the sweat at his temple. “I don’t want to just make a baby,” she said peacefully. “I want to make a baby, with you.” The last two words pointed, making her decision very clear. It wasn’t simply a baby she wanted. It was the act of making a baby with him. It was the desire to make him a father.
Travis laid quietly, holding his girl in his arms, his last night in Germany.
“Do you want…” Taylor stopped, clearing her throat. “To make a baby with me?” She finished on a squeak.
Travis looked down abruptly. “Of course!” He said, as though she was slightly nuts. “Tay, this is literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You, wanting to have a baby with me. Some jamoke from fucking Cleveland. This is… beyond my imagination.” He tipped her face up, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “Sweetie, making a baby with you, raising a child with you, would be the greatest privilege of my life.”
Taylor’s eyes welled up. “We’re going to make a baby?” She questioned, one final time.
Travis kissed her again, his lips lingering on hers, tongue swiping across her full bottom lip.
“We’re going to make a baby.” He confirmed with a nod, pulling her tighter into his arms, happy tears forming in his own eyes, his heart feeling as though it was going to burst.
--------------//
They sat quietly in the blacked out SUV on the way to the private airport outside of Gelsenkirchen. Hands tightly squeezed together, tears slipping down cheeks as they both furtively tried to wipe them away without the other noticing, hidden under dark sunglasses.
They got to the airport, the stairs already positioned on the tarmac for Travis to race up into the private jet they had rented, ready to head back to Kansas City, back to training camp, back to the grind.
He bit the inside of his cheek hard as Taylor’s lips trembled violently, opening the car door to come around to open hers. He nodded to Drew, pulling it open as Drew handed him his duffle from the trunk. Tay slipped out, tear tracks visible on her face. They walked hand in hand to the stairs pulling off their sunglasses, Travis turning to take her into his arms, the struggle to hold emotions inside finally bursting from their dam.
“I’m going to miss you so damn much,” he swore to her between quiet gasps, clutching her into his grip as hard as he could without hurting her.
Her soft hiccupping sobs broke his heart.
He sat down on the metal stairs, pulling her into his lap, their arms wrapped around one another, lips finding salty lips. He pulled away briefly to cup her face, his thumbs wiping away rivulets from her cheeks.
“Thirty-three days, sweetie,” he whispered. “Then you’re going to come home to me, in KC, and we’re going to finish planning our wedding, and we’re going to make a baby.”
Taylor squeezed her eyes closed, nodding, her face pressing into his throat.
“I know this is ridiculous,” she blubbered into his neck. “I know people have to be apart for more time than this, but this really sucks.”
Travis nodded. “For both of us, baby. I’m gunna be thinking about you all the time. Coach is gunna be so ticked.”
Taylor sniffled. “Tell him if he’s nice to you, I’ll make him pop tarts. Whatever flavor he wants.”
Trav chuckled, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’ll tell him.” He inhaled a shaky breath. “What are we going to do when we miss each other so much we can barely take it?”
Tay nuzzled into him. “We’re gonna remember all the times we got to be together, and how much fun we have.”
“That’s right,” Trav kissed her temple. “But now I gotta go, sweetie.”
Taylor nodded, pulling away from his neck and leaning in for a final set of kisses. Their lips brushed sweetly, reverently. She wiped the remaining wetness from under his eyes with her thumbs, taking final looks at the crinkling around his beautiful eyes, stroking his beard to remember the soft wiriness, over his dimples and cheekbones.
In turn he tried to commit to memory the blueness of her irises, the shape of her ribs and curve of her waist under his hands, the texture of her curls.
“I love you more than you’ll ever know,” she said, biting her lower lip to stop herself from tearing up again.
Travis reached up, pulling her lip from between her teeth with his thumb, cupping her jaw. He stroked it with his finger to soothe the bite before leaning in to press a gentle kiss against her lips once more.
“I love you, too, baby. Stay safe, ok?” He looked at her seriously.
Taylor nodded. “You, too.”
Travis stood, Taylor gently slipping out of his grasp and standing on her own. He pulled her into a hard, desperate hug, his hands moving to her face to kiss her one last time, pressing their foreheads together.
Taylor’s eyes welled up more as his lip twitched.
He held her chin with his first finger and thumb, kissing her, then reached down to pick up his duffle bag. “Love you, girl.” He repeated, as though he couldn’t say it enough.
“I love you, too.”
He exhaled deeply, turned, and hustled up the noisy metal stairs, each footstep a clank until he reached the top. He turned at the top of the steps before he entered the plane, blowing her a kiss.
She blew him several, then turned and walked back to the SUV, slipping her sunglasses back on.
Drew stood by the car door as she got closer. “You ok?” He asked as he opened the door.
Taylor nodded as she slipped into the leather seats, sliding across where Travis had once sat.
She put up the curtain and started to cry.
-----------------------------//
The sun was setting over Gelsenkirchen for the final night of the Eras Tour. Taylor was prepping for the surprise songs; finally rewarding her fans on Twitter for their desire to hear a mashup of Paper Rings and Stay Stay Stay. It felt right to do it tonight; in honor of Travis and their love and his incredible support throughout his off-season.
The sky deepened into shades of purple and orange; the colors she had already selected for her twelfth album. She grinned to herself, staring up into the long rectangle not covered by the Veltins-Arena retractable roof.
It took her back.
She’d seen beautiful sunsets before.
When she was young, setting over Cinderella’s castle on a trip with her parents and Austin to Orlando. Disney World adding its own certain childhood whimsy against wispy cotton candy clouds; a magical painting of Crayola colors as long shadows stretched across the cobblestone paths.
Her first time in Singapore as an artist. Looking up from the boardwalk at a fiery red sky peeking through dark, stormy weather, a mix of awe and trepidation. The skyline, with its towering buildings, tall against the brewing tempest. The billowing clouds were heavy and ominous, rolling across the sky like giant waves. As the sun began to set, it cast a vibrant, blistering glow that pierced through the gloom, painting streaks of amber, orange, and pink across the horizon.
At the Lakes, the evenings were painted in the softest hues. Pale yellows and pinks spread gently across the sky, rolling green hills stretching out before them, a patchwork of lush pastures and winding stone fences that traced the contours of the hills. The silvery water mirrored the pastel sky, every ripple on the surface catching the light.
But this sunset… this was different.
Sitting in the backyard of Travis’s new house, cuddled up on a chaise on the patio, sitting between his strong thighs as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned back against his muscular chest, resting her head against his shoulder, his own back supported by thick, creamy white cushions and a fluffy teal outdoor pillow. Glasses of wine sat in their own condensation on a metal side table.
He’d put on some random playlist… soothing music of James Taylor and Cat Stevens, Van Morrison and Gram Parsons.
But the real artist was the sky, blazing with a hypnotic array of colors as the sun began its descent. The upper reaches were awash in a deep, velvety purple, gradually transitioning into lavender, spreading across the horizon. Below, the intense orange of the setting sun radiated warmth, casting a golden glow that bathed everything in a gentle, amber light. Wisps of pink and magenta drifted lazily across the sky, edges illuminated by the sun's final rays. The gentle breeze carried the soft scent of blooming flowers and fresh earth as the sky continued to darken, the colors deepening, giving way to the twilight.
Travis slid his hand down Taylor’s arm, linking their hands and intertwining their fingers. He brought their hands to his mouth, gently kissing her knuckles, before wrapping his arms tighter around her, nuzzling his nose into the citrussy coconut of her curls.
Taylor hummed quietly, turning her head to softly kiss his stubbled cheek, gazing up at this beautiful man with a deep contentment that she hadn’t felt in… maybe ever.
Travis looked down at her, using his free hand to grasp her chin with his forefinger and thumb, lifting her face for a sweet, lingering kiss.
“Tay,” he murmured reverently, his eyes still closed, his face serene and peaceful, his body relaxed and at ease.
“Trav,” she responded, opening her eyes to swipe her thumb at his heavy bottom lip. He opened his eyes to grin at her, when she shifted just slightly, swallowing before saying,
“I love you.”
Travis was silent, staring at her, his eyes wide. Then burst out, “Oh, thank fuck,” throwing his head back against the pillow. Taylor gaped at him, blinking at him in confusion. He looked down at her, grimacing. “Sorry. I’ve been dying to say that for weeks. I love you, Taylor. I love you so fuckin much. I didn’t know it could be like this.” He thrust his fingers into her hair, at the base of her skull, bringing her lips back up to meet his, soft and slow.
Taylor pulled back, face lit up and radiant in the dusk. “You do?” She asked, eyes wide and hopeful.
Travis grasped her chin with his hand, kissing her again. “I do, baby,” he whispered against her lips. “I love you. More than you’ll ever know.”
Taylor grinned, cuddling back into his arms, the feeling of him wrapped around her setting every cell of her body on fire. He loved her. She sighed happily, linking her fingers with his, her whole being relaxed and… joyful. She felt joy. Unadulterated, unmistakable joy.
The sky’s purple and orange explosion had started to disappear, turning into deep blues of evening.
But the memory of Travis telling her he loved her, too… That was one she’d remember for the rest of her life.
———-//
“Run it again!” Andy hollered, frustrated, blowing his whistle. Travis lined up with his teammates on the ten yard line, salty sweat dripping down his forehead into his eyes, stinging and angry. His heart raced with exertion, exhaustion settling into his already weary bones. The whistle blew again, shrill and jarring, and he instinctively took off running, finding the next line, leaning down to touch it, and sprinting back, then back to the thirty, and back. His breath came out in heavy pants, his head swirling with dank humidity under the oppressive Missouri sun. He turned for the forty yard line, back, the fifty, then back. Perspiration slipped down his cheeks, onto his lips. He unconsciously licked them, briny sweat barely registering as he reached down to touch the long white line. He hustled as the lengths started to move backwards, forty and back, thirty and back. His thighs burned, his knees aching. The sun beat down, the air shimmering, an unforgivable intense heat. It permeated every inch of the field, his undershirt soaked. Twenty and back, and he reached down to touch the white line, his lower back snarled in knots.
He stood up, his hands on his hips, before he bent over, bile rising in his gut, coughing and sputtering. Coach blew the whistle once more as the last player crossed the line, Trav falling to his hands and knees as he gagged.
“Fuck,” he gasped into the turf, spitting vomit onto the grass. He retched, beads of sweat relentlessly slipping down his face, down his throat. He wheezed, his lungs feeling as though they had been sliced by millions of tiny razors.
He sat up on his knees, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. One of the new guys walked by, hunched over. He patted Trav’s shoulder.
“You ok, el capitan?” He asked.
Trav nodded, waving his hand for the kid to move on. Kid. Because he was the old man on the team now. Thirty four, almost thirty five now. Playing until the wheels fell off.
He slumped back onto his ass as someone threw him a water bottle. He picked it up, dumping a fair amount into his mouth before pouring the rest of the cool fluid over his head.
That brought him back.
Tay was doing the dishes after dinner at home in Beverly Hills. He had taken a phone call from Dre, a new opportunity for next off season, and when he walked back into the kitchen, she was humming and swaying to music in her head, her hair up in a high ponytail. He snuck up behind her, grasping her hips as he leaned into kiss her throat. She had screamed, holding the sprayer, instinctively lifting the nozzle and soaking them both.
“Whoaaa!!!” He had cackled as he moved backwards, away from the spray as Taylor struggled to turn the water off.
When she did, she turned around to face him, already wiping the water off his hair with a kitchen towel. “Travis Kelce!!” She scolded, laughing. “Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me!” She shook her head, droplets of water flying everywhere. She fingered her bangs. “Ughhhhh, babe, they’re going to get all curly now.”
He had laughed, walking to her carefully to avoid slipping on the wet ceramic tiles. He used the towel to wipe her hair, patting her face and chest and arms dry. He leaned in to kiss her collarbone. “I like your hair curly,” he murmured, dragging her tank top strap off her shoulder. Taylor wiggled away from him, dropping the towel to the floor to wipe up some of the water.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Was that you just trying to get into my pants?” She asked, arching an eyebrow and putting her strap back on her shoulder.
He grinned, his most boyish grin that he knew she couldn’t resist. “I do like getting you wet.” He smirked.
Tay rolled her eyes, snorting. “Nicely played, Kelce.” She used her foot to swipe the water with the towel, leaning down to pick it up. When she looked up, Travis was standing directly in front of her, taking the towel from her hand. He dropped it in a dirty towel basket next to the counter before backing her into the island. He leaned in to suckle at the other side of her throat, his hands capturing her against the cabinets.
“Travis…” Taylor warned, but arching her neck to give him more room.
“Taylor…” Trav responded, nibbling little bites against her skin.
Taylor grinned to herself as she slipped under his arm.
“No playtime until I get this kitchen cleaned up.”
Travis pouted. She bit her bottom lip as she pulled out the broom. He followed her as she started to sweep, pulling out the dust pan.
“Sooo playtime after sweeping?” He asked, his adorable face hopeful.
Taylor hummed. “Mmm, maybe. You gotta be good though.”
His eyebrows shot into his forehead. “Hey, I am ALWAYS good,” he protested, Taylor guffawing a sarcastic laugh.
“Oh, are you?” She asked saucily, as Travis eyed her from across the kitchen. She stood with the broom in one hand, the other on her hip.
“Oh, I am always good, baby girl,” he smirked. “Haven’t heard you complaining about it. Usually it’s “oh baby, more, fuck me harder!”” His voice got higher pitched as he impersonated her.
Taylor pursed her lips, trying not to smile. “That’s not at all what I sound like.” She deadpanned.
“Oh, excuse me,” Trav started again, his voice getting even higher. “Oh, Travis, my tall, handsome sex God, fuck me with your gorgeous big cock!”
Taylor burst out laughing. “Woooow,” she giggled. “Getting closer, I guess.”
Travis narrowed his eyes at his girl, her face pink and flushed, her bangs curling as she had worried across her forehead. She wore just the barest amount of makeup, some concealer and mascara. Her tank top was fairly plain, army green and thin.
“Taylor Alison…” he growled, Taylor’s back stiffening at the low timber of his voice. He started to stalk towards her, Tay dropping the broom and racing towards the other side of the island. He placed his hands, huge and strong, on the marble counter. She remembered the first night there after Singapore… how those hands had lifted her hips onto that counter as he buried his face between her thighs.
“Come and get me,” Tay winked, rocking from side to side, as though at any second she could bail one direction.
“I’m gunna fuckin get ya,” Travis warned, ready to chase. Taylor’s eyes widened.
“Eep!” She shrieked, running to her left, towards the living room. Travis moved faster, so she pivoted, circling back to run the other direction. They ended up on opposite sides of the island.
“Think you’re fast?” Trav play mocked her, Tay rolling her eyes.
“Faster than you, football boy!”
She took off the other direction, Travis speeding behind her as she slipped around the island just barely out of his grasp. The ended up on their original sides.
“Oh baby, this must be embarrassing for you,” Tay singsonged. “Can’t even catch your girl.”
Travis took the bragging into consideration as he stared out the window behind her, gasping. Taylor whirled around to see what was happening as Travis took the moment to sidle up behind her, wrapping her in his arms from behind.
“Oh, come on!” Taylor jokingly complained, resting her head against his firm chest.
He chuckled into her hair. “Oldest trick in the book, baby.” He ran his hands down her shoulders, over her breasts, to grasp her hips, slowly turning her so her ass was pressed against the cabinet. He leaned down to kiss at her throat before looking up, making goofy faces at her and keeping her tight against him. She squealed in laughter.
“Your face is going to get stuck like that,” she laughed at one particular look, his eyebrows raised and his eyes crossed.
“Would you still love me?” He asked, his voice high and robotic, vaguely Yoda-ish?
Tay cackled, wiggling around to get her arms out from Trav’s grasp. She cupped his face, bringing it down to her, softly kissing his lips.
“Would definitely still love you. More than you’ll ever know.”
Trav grimaced. “We really gotta get your eyes checked then, babe. I think your Lasik has worn off or something.”
Tay giggled, slapping his chest playfully.
He slid his hands from her hips to her waist, up her ribs, his big palms cupping just under her tits. He leaned in for more kisses.
“Playtime?” He asked softly into her ear, his breath warm against her skin. Taylor exhaled heavily, leaning back to look into his eyes, dark and needy.
She nodded, her breath stuttering at the intensity of his gaze on her. He always looked like he simply wanted to devour her.
“Yeah,” she confirmed, nodding quickly.
He grinned, picking her up over his shoulder, her hair damp and swinging.
———------//
“Fuck,” Travis grimaced as he rubbed aloe gel on the sunburn on the back of his neck.
“I told you to use sunscreen,” Patrick reprimanded him, lounging on his bed at MWSU, two twins pushed together to make a king size. He was scrolling through his phone absentmindedly.
Travis turned to glare at the quarterback.
“I was running late, asshole.”
Patrick grinned at him, looking up from his scrolling. “I also told you that Facetiming with Taylor before practice was going to make you late.”
Travis capped the aloe, then tossed it on the bed, fairly close to Patrick’s thigh.
Patrick glanced at it. “Your inability to hit a target is why Coach won’t let you throw the ball.”
“I might fuckin murder you tonight,” Travis stated, narrowing his eyes at his friend, and really, closest confidant in the Chiefs organization.
Patrick laughed, sitting up. “Bro, I know this sucks. It’s only been a couple of days. Wait ‘til you have kids and you’re away from them for a month.”
Travis collapsed heavily into the uncomfortable wood desk chair. “Man, I can’t even imagine. Might retire so I don’t have to imagine it.”
Patrick rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure,” he said sarcastically. “Although who knows, Tay might be knocked up when we’re here for camp next year.”
Trav pursed his lips, not wanting to share anything too personal about what he and Taylor had decided on their reproductive choices. The decision to try to conceive was something else he held close to his heart, another piece of Taylor he wanted to protect.
“Yeah, maybe,” he said noncommittally.
Patrick reached over to grab a football from the side table, passing it to Travis, who threw it back. Patrick tossed it a little too high, Travis reaching up to receive it.
“Shiiiiit,” he winced, covering his neck where his new Chiefs tshirt had rubbed against his sunburn. The neckline was far too tight, the fabric rough; he’d have to stretch it out, make sure it was washed a bunch with whatever Tay’s house manager used to make their clothes soft.
Patrick shook his head. “Sunscreen, my boy.” He opened his side table drawer, pulling out a long orange tube and tossing it to Travis. “Don’t say I never did nothing for ya.”
Travis rolled his eyes, accepting the lotion. He looked down at the blue cap, unscrewing it.
It brought him back.
The 15 and Mahomies golf classic and gala wasn’t the first time he and Tay had gotten all dolled up for an event, but for some reason, it felt like a first. They’d been out all day on the course, Taylor cheering and supporting him as he played. It wasn’t until they had gotten back to the suite and into the gigantic marbled shower that he’d noticed the startling red on her skin, crisscrossed by pale white stripes where her dress straps had protected her.
“It’s ok, baby,” she had said as they fell into the big bed together, exhaustion written across her face. They’d been out that night before, and then a day in the sun with plenty of cocktails with Brit Mahomes leaving her dead tired. She tried to bring him on top of her.
“Mmm,” she pouted when he shook his head. “I wanna have sex.”
Travis arched an eyebrow. “Baby, you’re going to fall asleep in about thirty seconds. Take a nap, we can have amazing sex later.” He rutted against her, his hardness pushing against her hip.
Taylor groaned, arching against him, but then cuddling into his side, falling asleep almost instantly. Trav shook his head in victory, knowing his lady through and through. When Tay got that exhausted look in her eyes, she was a goner.
He pulled the heavy duvet up and over them, tucking it behind her so her butt didn’t get cold in the air conditioning. He turned on his alarm on his iPhone and, bone tired himself, snuggled under the covers and fell asleep.
He woke up to Taylor’s shrill, “oh shit!” And realizing that they were going to be very late for the gala if they didn’t hustle.
Trav looked at his phone, realizing he had set the alarm for AM instead of PM.
“Fuck, babe, I’m so sorry!” He exclaimed as a very naked Taylor jumped out of bed, launching herself towards the bathroom.
“Crap crap crap,” she bemoaned the state of her hair, yanking a brush through it. “I knew I should have hired a hair stylist.”
Trav blanched. “My fault, sweetie.”
Taylor sighed, turning to him as she grabbed a bottle of hair spray. “No, it’s mine. I got too much sun.” She parted her hair with her fingers and delicately sprayed some on the part, then flipping the part over and spraying a bit more. She fluffed up the back, reaching over to turn on her curling iron.
Travis walked over, placing his hands on her shoulders to squeeze them. They looked at one another in the mirror, slightly sunburnt, hair rumpled, skin creased by fluffy hotel pillows. He leaned over, kissing her cheek. Taylor put her hands on top of his on her shoulders, stroking the backs of them with her thumbs.
“Love you,” she said softly.
“Love you more than you’ll ever know.”
They got ready in a hurry, Travis taking just a few extra beats to admire his lady in her long, shimmering deep green gown. He always loved how she looked, but she simply oozed effortless class. Soft curls, sexy but elegant dress, perfect makeup, gold necklace. The dress laced up the back and… well, he couldn’t help himself but think about how he was going to unlace that later with his teeth.
They made it to the gala, fashionably late, meeting Patrick and Brit so they could chat. He left Tay with Brittany so he could meet with some other folks with Patrick, provide their usual united front as captains of the Chiefs squad.
Patrick looked behind them as they headed towards the drinks. “Hey, Tay looks great,” Pat complimented as they reached the long, gleaming wood bar.
Travis looked back at Taylor and Brittany, having been surrounded by another group of ladies. She was smiling, laughing, but he could see the exhaustion in her face. Nevertheless, she was there to support one of his best friends, was there to support him. She’d even suggested a surprise auction item; some tickets to one of the US shows in the fall. That was his Tay.
“She’s beautiful,” he said quietly as Patrick ordered two manhattans. Patrick smiled at him, a knowing kind of smile.
“You look really happy, man.” Patrick tapped the bar. “It’s nice to see you looking… like this.”
Travis arched a brow. “Like what?”
Patrick appraised him. “Just… there’s something about you now. Something since Tay came along. You just look… I dunno, relaxed. Appreciated. Like, loved up, or something. Like you obviously looked happy during the season, but since the ‘bowl, you’ve been on another level, bro.”
Travis exhaled a laugh, looking towards Taylor, still chatting with the ladies. She caught his gaze, scrunching her nose at him before winking. His heart stuttered in his chest before he winked back.
“I feel like I’m on another level,” he confided. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know it could be like this, ya know?”
Patrick nodded, picking up what Travis was putting down. “I get it, man.”
The bartender slid them two manhattans.
Once they’d chatted with some other patrons of the 15 and Mahomies charity, Travis excused himself to go find Tay. She was talking to a blonde woman in a black shawl when he finally found her, sidled up behind her.
“Speaking of your fella,” the woman laughed, reaching out to pat Taylor’s arm as Travis stroked her biceps, his hands easily wrapping nearly all the way around her arms. It always surprised him how strong she was, but how delicate. Her poor, sore shoulders were boldly red despite some makeup Taylor had tried to use to cover the burn. As though on instinct, he leaned down to kiss her angry skin, and not thinking, down her arm as Taylor giggled. He felt her head move as he gently mouthed against her flesh.
“Travis Kelce!” She whispered urgently, her tone hushed but eyes flashing with amusement. Trav nuzzled his nose into her hair.
He looked up as she turned to wrap an arm around him, the other stroking down his button down shirt. She stood on her toes to murmur into his ear, “That comes later, baby.”
Travis felt his breath hitch at the seduction in her voice, at the way her fingers fisted in his shirt. “Not soon enough.”
“OK, love birds, break it up,” a voice came from behind them as Brit walked up next to them. “Trav, if you need to eat something, we have salads coming. Tay isn’t on the menu.”
If he had any shame, he would have blushed. Instead Travis kissed Taylor’s cheek, grasping her hand. “Duly noted, Mrs. Mahomes.” Taylor mouthed a “sorry” to her with a sheepish eye roll.
Trav led them to their table.
————//
Hamburg, Germany night one, the sky finally opened up. Taylor loved a good rain show, even when the after effects were… well, not as great.
She coughed and sputtered in her big bed in London. She’d flown home after night two, not having to be in Munich until Saturday, and as she landed, the cold came on. Post nasal drip, cough, sore throat, the works. The crew had all steered clear of her, crossing their fingers and sanitizing everything they could get their hands on. She was pretty sure some of them had started pre-taking Tylenol Cold, just in case.
At any rate, she didn’t blame them. She felt awful.
Climbing into the giant bed, she tossed and turned. Normally a cup of tea and a couple Sudafed and she’d be out like a light. But Travis hadn’t called yet, and even though they’d texted off and on, it was hard going to sleep without having heard his voice.
She could have called him, she supposed. But his schedule at training camp was a lot more jam packed. There was the actual practice, of course, but then team meetings and hitting the gym and reviewing film. Plus the camaraderie with his teammates; he was a captain, he needed to be there to facilitate a lot of what they had going on.
She coughed and blew her nose, her eyes watering. She tried to pick up a book; almost immediately set it back down, because that wasn’t happening. She had some voice notes from Aaron… but the sounds were jumbled in her head, not clear at all with the amount of fluid and stuffiness.
She stood and walked to the bathroom, turning on the shower. Maybe a hot steam would loosen everything up. She could put some makeup on before Trav called, make herself look more put together and less like a mole person. She stripped out of her leggings and tshirt, then sneezed directly into the fabric.
“Noooo….” She whined to herself. It was Trav’s tshirt, one of the soft, threadbare Chiefs ones he had left behind so she could sleep in it… could smell him when he was gone, back at training camp back in Missouri. And now she’d gotten it all gross.
“Ughhhhh….” She groaned, irritated at herself, throwing the tshirt in the hamper. She stepped into the shower, letting the hot water pour over her head, then her back. She let the steam rise around her.
It’d been no more than a quarter of an hour when her phone started ringing on the bathroom counter. Taylor hurriedly turned off the water, wrapped herself in a fluffy white towel, and grabbed the phone.
Trav was FaceTiming.
She answered, her hair a wet mess around her shoulders, holding the towel to her chest.
“Oh, fresh out the shower Tay, my favorite!” Travis boomed when she accepted the call and he saw her.
His face. His sweet, perfect face, with his sunkissed cheeks and that mustache and three day stubble. His grin, his crinkly eyes, his chest hair peeking out from under his own Chiefs tshirt.
The face of the man she loved.
Naturally she burst into tears.
Trav’s face fell, his eyes widening. “Fuck baby, what happened? Are you okay??”
Taylor sniffled, frowning, then coughed for a solid twenty seconds.
“I’m sorry,” she said, finally gathering herself together to speak. “I’m sick and I miss you and I sneezed all over your tshirt and I don’t feel good and I was hoping a shower would loosen all of…” She gestured around her face and chest, “this up, but it didn’t, and now I just look like a drowned rat, and I wanted to look pretty for when you called but I feel terrible…”
“Whoa whoa whoa…” Travis interrupted. “First of all, baby why didn’t you call me? Have you taken any medicine? And second of all, drowned rat Tay just out of the shower is one of my favorite Tay’s, so don’t act like I’m not thrilled to see it. And third, you always look beautiful, sweetie. I miss you so damn much.”
Taylor’s eyes watered. “You’re so nice to me. Why are you so nice?” Her lower lip trembled violently.
Trav smiled a little half smile. “Because I love you, babe. Did you take anything? Have you slept at all?”
Taylor shook her head. “No.”
Travis raised his eyebrows. “No on which count?”
“Both…” Tay squeaked, as Travis closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
When he reopened his eyes, he looked at her sternly. “Get dressed and get into your bed. I’m going to call your dad and have him bring you some cold meds. Get some sleep. I can call you in the morning, baby. I promise I’ll have more time to talk then, ok?”
Taylor shook her head, Travis’s eyebrows nearly hitting his hairline.
“It’s our bed…” she said quietly, her lip still quivering.
Travis’s face softened. “Yes. Sorry. Get dressed and get into OUR bed, ok? I wish I was there to hold you and make you feel better.”
Taylor nodded, more tears threatening to fall.
“I love you, Tay. Text me when you’re in bed, ok?”
She nodded once more. “I love you, too,” she whispered, sniffling, then coughing several times.
They ended the call, Taylor wrapping the towel around her hair and throwing on another oversized tee and a pair of cheeky panties. Ones Trav really liked - loved how the fabric hugged her curves and showed off her… well, cheeks.
She slipped into bed, texting him.
Tay: back in bed. Put on the cheeky panties you like. Miss you so much.
Travis texted back immediately.
Trav: good baby. your dad is going to drop off some meds and stuff. TAKE IT. and then go to bed, ok? ill call you in the morning my time and we can have a nice long talk. you can show off those panties for me. miss you more.
Taylor smiled gently at the message. He was so wonderful. She still didn’t know how she got so lucky.
Trav: love you baby girl. can’t wait to see you. 😘
She texted back.
Tay: love you, babe. More than you’ll ever know ❤️😘
She set the phone down on the side table, making sure the charger was plugged in. Almost immediately, a knock hit her bedroom door.
She got out of the bed, padding to the door, making sure her behind was covered. When she opened it, she saw her father racing behind a wall.
“Don’t want to get sick, honey. Feel better!” He called before peeking around the wall and grinning at her.
“You’re a coward!” Tay called back playfully, looking down at a tray of medicine, orange juice, a bottle of water, some clear soda and some tissues.
She picked up the tray, shutting the door. She set the tray on a table, ripping open the pills of medicine, and downing two of them with the orange juice. She cracked open a bottle of liquid meds and threw back a cupful.
She got back into the bed and pulled up the comforter, snuggling into her pillow.
She couldn’t smell anything, let alone Travis, but she could leave it to her imagination.
The next morning, she awoke late, to the sun streaming through the windows. Tay sat up, rubbing her eyes. Then rubbed them again when she saw what had happened in her bedroom.
The room was flooded with flowers. White roses and pink hydrangeas and purple hyacinths, pale yellow tulips and blue delphiniums and green zinnias. It was magic, how flowers touched every surface.
“Oh…” Tay whispered, pressing her hand to her chest. She still felt pretty awful, but this… this made her feel pretty wonderful.
She slipped out of the bed, to the tray. She opened another package, took 2 more pills with water, and then looked around. On the desk, a very practical thermos of tea with a delicate antique tea cup and saucer. On the chair, a fluffy new blanket and pillow. Next to the tv, a list of where to find her favorite shows to binge on what streaming service.
But most of all, on a hanger, hanging from the bathroom door, was another threadbare Chiefs tshirt.
“Oh!” Tay gasped, moving to stroke it gently. She couldn’t smell it, but the softness of the fabric was soothing on its own. Knowing it had touched his skin… that’s what she needed.
Her phone rang.
Travis.
“Baby, how did you do this?” She asked upon answering his Facetime, her voice raw, coughing a few times.
“Your dad is surprisingly helpful when you’re out cold from flu medicines,” Travis supplied.
Tay tried to laugh. “He ran from me last night so he wouldn’t get sick.”
“Well, as his favorite future son-in-law, he knows where his football bread is buttered,” Travis winked.
Tay grinned, walking to pour some tea into the teacup. She held it up, inspecting it.
“I have no idea where these came from.”
Travis smiled gently. “I bought them a couple weeks ago for you. Etsy has a surprisingly large amount of vintage teacups and saucers and stuff. These crazy antique teaspoons, even! I got us twelve, all different ones.”
Taylor’s eyes filled with tears.
“You did that, for me?” She asked incredulously, her nose running a little more as she tried to hold in the waterworks.
Trav looked at her softly. “Baby, I’d do anything for you. And teacups for our London house seemed pretty straightforward.”
Their London house. It brought her back.
The phone rang as Taylor laid next to Travis on the couch at their new home in KC, curled up by the fire in the family room, letting the embers slowly die out. Taylor sighed, clicking the off button on her iPhone to send the call to voicemail.
“Mmm, you ok, babe?” Trav asked, not wanting to open his eyes and ruin the moment.
Taylor sighed. “James, from the real estate firm, again. I honestly can’t look at another house in London. It’s going to send me through the roof.”
She snuggled up to him, shifting so she could slide her hand up the bottom of his tshirt, petting his chest hair.
Trav opened his eyes.
“I know it’s tough but having a home base in London when you’re traveling in Europe this summer makes a lot more sense than trying to book hotel suites,” he reasoned. “Especially for you, and your dad, and the security folks. I want to make sure you’re safe.”
Taylor nodded, stroking his chest. “I know. I just looked for a million years for the house I was going to buy before… well, it doesn’t matter, I guess. I just want to make sure it’s a good financial decision but also that it’s comfortable for us.”
Travis twisted to look at her fully, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Babe, us…”
Tay knew exactly what he was going to say.
“Who did you buy this house for?” She asked, sitting up, waving her hand around the beautiful room.
The family room of the new Kansas home was stunningly appointed. Comfortable couches, gleaming wood coffee and end tables. Awards scattered around on credenzas and shelves. Photos of family. Photos of them. One, in particular, from a friends night at the old house. Amanda, Trav’s manager’s wife, had snapped it. The two of them, their heads bent together near the fire outside, the licking flames alight in Taylor’s eyes as she gazed at him, a look of wonderment spread across her face. Amanda had used a black and white filter, the removal of color showing exactly how connected and in love they truly were; having eyes for no one but one another.
“It’s our house, Tay,” Trav admitted, as he had several times before. “I bought it as an investment, but it’s for safety for both of us.”
Taylor nodded. “That’s right. And the London house will be ours. I just want to make sure that it’s a sound decision, and doesn’t look like I’m just jumping right back into… all things UK.”
Travis pulled her back down next to him, already bereft at her not being in his arms.
“It’s a sound investment, baby. Tell you what, let’s look at what James sent tomorrow morning. We can make the decision together.”
Tay grinned, nuzzling back into her spot. “Sounds perfect.”
The next morning, as Taylor awoke in their big, soft bed in Kansas, Travis came walking out of the bathroom, a toothbrush hanging from the corner of his mouth.
“Babe…” he handed her his phone. “I think this is the one.”
Taylor yawned, stretching like a cat, naked and warm and ridiculously comfortable under the soft duvet. She brought the phone to her face, starting to scroll through the photos.
It was… well, it needed some TLC. Some updating. But the bones… the orangery… the pool…
Taylor looked up at Travis. “Trav this is…”
He raised his eyebrows. “Perfect for us?”
She nodded, smiling a big smile. “I think this is perfect for us.”
————//
His shorts were too loose. Travis yanked on the drawstring, one side disappearing inside the loop.
“Fucking fuck,” he muttered under his breath, jerking them down over his ass, his thighs burning with exhaustion.
It’d only been a few days at camp, and already his body was sore with a depth and breadth of fatigue he’d never felt before. Usually after their break, he’d come to camp with a vengeance, ready to play. But these days… Almost thirty five was catching up with him.
He sat on the makeshift king bed in his room, the bed creaking under his weight. He’d lost some pounds already, saw how his body was already changing back into regular season normality. He wasn’t a skinny dude, at any rate, but he was two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle and grit.
Who apparently couldn’t fix his fucking shorts. He threw them across the room into the corner, falling back onto the bed. He only had a couple more minutes before breakfast. He could probably find another pair in a drawer somewhere, but he was just so tired. The heat and humidity, combined by with his body just not recovering like it used to… it was becoming a trial. Maybe he would have to retire after next season.
His phone started buzzing on the desk.
Trav reached over and grabbed the iPhone, his beautiful girl’s face on the screen. He answered.
“Baby, why does everything suck when you’re not here?”
Tay laughed, her little giggle a feeling of warmth and familiarity in his gut.
“Mmm, I could say the same,” she replied, concern etched on her face. “What’s wrong, sweetie? You look like you’re about to lose it.”
Trav sighed. “Exhausted. I’m just not recovering like I used to. Did a cupping session this morning and that barely helped. We got breakfast in a few, but I’m just bone tired.”
Tay nodded meaningfully. “Yeah, I know how that feels.”
And she did. Multiple shows a week, dancing in high heels… Trav knew that the shoes were made specifically for her by Louboutin, but her calves were constantly tight, her toes bruised. Her obliques sore, her quads in knots. They’d spent many a morning in bed after a show, Travis using lemon scented oils to work the aches out of her flesh.
“And…” he started. He sighed in irritation. At himself. At his stupid fucking shorts. At not being at home in London, with his lady. “The fuckin cord on my shorts is stuck like, inside the waistband, and now I gotta try to get it out which is a pain in the ass, and…”
“Trav.” Taylor interrupted. “It’s easy. Do you have a safety pin?”
Trav pulled a face. “Do I look like a guy who keeps safety pins around?”
Taylor exhaled out of her nose. “…Touche’. Do you have a paperclip?”
Trav sat back, trying to think of where he might have supplies. “Yeah, I might have one in my paperwork. Hold on.”
He set the phone down facing the ceiling, rummaging through the papers on his desk. Relieved, he found one.
“Voila!” He held up the paperclip triumphantly as he picked up the phone to show Tay, like a little boy showing his mom a dandelion. She grinned.
“Perfect!” Taylor clapped. Proud momma. “Now take the whole drawstring out.”
“That feels counterintuitive.” Trav protested.
Taylor rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, just listen to me. Pull the whole cord out. Attach the paperclip to one end of the drawstring and shove it into the hole, then wiggle it.”
“That’s what she said.”
“Travis Michael…”
“I’m doin it, I’m doin it…” Travis laughed. He worked the paperclip into the hole, then manipulated it all the way through the waistband until it popped out the other side. He pulled it through.
“Oh my god, that worked.”
“See?” Taylor preened. “Easy peasy.”
“You’re amazing,” Travis grinned at his girl, tracing her face with his eyes through the phone. His fingers itched to touch her. “Love you so fuckin much.”
“Love you more than you know, baby,” Tay replied, softly smiling. “But go eat! Call me when you’re done with practice.”
“You already know, babe.” He confirmed.
At breakfast, he sat with some of the new guys, trying to bond. They were good kids, still so dang young. Had so much promise. He stabbed his fork into a piece of chicken sausage, taking a bite as he realize one of them was talking to him.
“Hmm?” He asked, looking up at the fresh faced freshman.
“Best pasta type,” the kid responded. “Can’t be gnocchi.”
Travis laughed. “Pasta type? Damn, asking the hard questions this early in the morning. Uh.. linguine… Definitely linguine.” He could taste the fresh noodles on his tongue, the spicy lemon and garlic…
It brought him back.
The chef in Lake Como’s name was Giuseppe, and he couldn’t have been more Italian if he had tried. Jovial and passionate about rich culinary traditions, he was short and robust, sporting a trimmed mustache and a traditional toque. He spoke animatedly, his arms flailing wildly, enthusiastic and bold.
If they were being really honest, he was nearly impossible to understand beyond the occasional, “DELIZIOSO!”.
Travis would reply with his own, “Aye, mamma mia!” to which Taylor would slap his chest and crack up laughing.
But besides being a complete stereotype, Giuseppe was a down to earth character, and he was showing them how to roll out pasta.
“You must roll out gently from the center towards the edges,” Giuseppe said, holding a rolling pin. Travis started to roll. “Dio mio, GENTLE.” Travis looked up, arching an eyebrow. “Mr. Travis, go soft…” Giuseppe encouraged. “Tender, like a lover. No need to beat the dough into submission, it is already dead.”
Taylor giggled from beside him, rolling her own dough. Giuseppe gestured to her. “You see here, Miss Taylor, rolls like she is a nurturing queen. Like she is affectionate and loving.”
Travis arched another eyebrow. “Giuseppe, are you trying to steal my woman?”
Giuseppe waved his hand around. “No need, she is already in love. With the pasta. Just wait.”
Taylor shrugged. “He’s not NOT wrong.”
“See? Giuseppe is not wrong.” The chef’s hand went wild.
Travis sighed.
“Now, you must put the pasta through the pasta machine. This requires… patience. Practice. You want the thinnest sheet of delectable tagliatelle, or pappardelle.”
“Is that like fettuccini?” Travis asked, threading his pasta through the machine.
Giuseppe threw his head back. “Ugh no. Much more hearty than my Bellissima tagliatelle from Bologna. Although usually eaten sugo d’umido, or with a beef ragu, instead of that un casino disgustoso dish you refer to in America called “fettuccini alfredo.”” Giuseppe shivered.
“Does that mean disgusting?” Travis whispered to Tay, who shrugged and pulled a face.
“I dunno, I love some fettuccini alfredo…”
Travis looked at her sharply. “I also love fettuccini alfredo.”
“What?? How have we never had fettuccini alfredo together?”
Travis shrugged. “I don’t know! That seems weird for us.”
“Should we make fettuccini alfredo when we get home?”
“I think at this point, we have to.”
Taylor nodded, grinning. “Chicken and broccoli?”
Travis stopped threading his pasta through the machine. “Ok, now you’ve gone too far.” He dropped the pasta where it sat on top of the machine, grabbing Taylor at the waist and bringing her in for a series of kisses.
Giuseppe stared at the couple, and then at where the pasta was laying haphazardly on the metal machine. “The pasta!” He cried, throwing his hands up in the air.
----------------//
There was blood.
Taylor sighed, mentally changing what she was going to wear for the show later that night. The blue and pink Lover body suit? Ha, not that day. She’d have to make sure to have her costume folks put the purple one out in her dressing room. Definitely no tangerine, either. Any little bit of bloating in that costume and suddenly she was being accused of being pregnant on X. Again.
Little did they know.
She took her supplements when she walked into the bedroom of the hotel suite. Magnesium to help with water retention, pre and probiotics and digestive enzymes. She’d order pineapple and cucumbers before the show, natural diuretics. Maybe a water pill here and there, but her constant NSAID use to curb the aches and pains of constant soreness was a danger to her kidneys.
Kidneys that she would need to be healthy for when she and Travis…
She couldn’t help but smile to herself thinking of their last moments together before he went home to KC. How desperately he wanted a family, and children. And how he wanted them with her. Their promises to one another.
She rubbed her face, chugging a bottle of water. It was always a bit of a challenge to imagine someone wanting a family with her. Joe had really done a number on her, telling her what she wanted to hear before ripping those dreams away. She had some much left to accomplish before kids, he would say. She certainly wasn’t ready to be a mother. He brought up how often she traveled, how she was still staying out until all hours of the evening, how a child didn’t fit into her lifestyle. Her her her.
But really… how was she to know? The late nights were because he wasn’t home either. She’d accomplished more than she ever could have imagined. Her lifestyle? She had moved to London to be with him.
He had gaslit her and manipulated her until she was a twisted pretzel, not knowing where her body began and the one he criticized ended.
“You’re getting fat,” he’d mentioned one such evening. He pinched the side of her thigh. “You should really consider going on a diet.”
Taylor had stared at him. He was telling her, someone who still continually struggled with an eating disorder, that she needed to diet? He had shrugged nonchalantly, getting up and leaving for another night out with his old flat mates.
She’d immediately gotten into the shower and made herself throw up. Even now, getting out of the shower, she stood in front of the large mirror in the bathroom of her suite in Munich.
She opened the fluffy white towel, appraising her body from each direction. Her hips were still a little too big. Her lower stomach stuck out, especially now on her period. Her thighs had come a long way. She tried to pinch the side of them – nothing much to grab at. She turned to look at the ass she’d been building. That was a source of pride these days. And her breasts… well, those had been expertly augmented, and they looked phenomenal, if she didn’t say so herself.
She cupped her own breasts, testing their weight. They’d definitely get huge when she got pregnant. And Travis said he loved her body, was constantly touching her. Even if her lower stomach was still too big.
She looked up at her own face. That brought her back.
“Mmm,” Travis hummed as he stood behind her at the bathroom counter, pressing her into the dark stained cabinet. He’d wrapped his arms around her, pushing her wet hair off her shoulder so he could press kisses to her skin.
He was wearing a towel, slung low on his hips. Taylor shifted to turn around, to wrap her own arms around his neck.
“How do you always look so good?” She murmured, standing on her tip toes to kiss him.
“It’s the nakedness.” Trav deadpanned, Taylor giggling.
“You bet your sweet ass,” she responded, slapping his hard derriere gently.
“Mmm,” Trav grunted. “Yes, baby girl. You know I like it rough.” He winked at her, giving her a cheesy grin.
Taylor giggled again and he reached up and unhooked the towel from between her breasts, letting it fall to the floor, gasping at the perfection of her body.
“Fuck,” he breathed into her throat. “You’re so fuckin gorgeous.”
Taylor looked up shyly. “It’s not… I’m not…” She stuttered. “You don’t have to say that.”
Travis backed her closer to the cabinet, so her ass was nearly sitting on the counter.
“I know I don’t have to say it, but fuck if I don’t believe it.” He grasped her face, cupping her jaw with his hands. “And I’m gunna say it, because it’s fuckin true. Taylor, you are the most unbelievably gorgeous woman, and I fucking love you. More than you will ever understand or comprehend.”
Tay’s lip quivered.
“I know what… other people may have said to you, but you are my actual dream girl. I am the luckiest bastard on the planet.”
He drifted his hands down her body, sending goosebumps over her flesh.
She leaned in, kissing his clavicle.
“I love you, Travis Kelce.”
His hands went to her breasts, tweaking and gently tugging at her nipples, the movement sending a fire to her groin.
“Baby,” she stopped him, holding his hands on top of her breasts. “I have my period.” She looked at him regretfully, wincing.
Trav’s face instantly changed. But not to anger. To understanding. To sympathy that she might be hurting.
He gently kissed her lips. “All good, sweetie.”
“Wait,” she commanded, wiggling out of his grasp and walking behind him. She undid his towel, letting it fall to the floor.
Travis’s body was… well, he was basically a Greek god. A little softer these days, but his stomach was flat, his thighs hard, the deep V of his lower abdomen a place she had spent much time getting to know. His back was muscled, his arms incredibly strong.
His ass was solid and tight. His cock was… delicious. Big and thick, sized for his body.
“Wait…” she whispered into his skin, reaching up to massage down his back as he watched himself in the mirror. Up and over his traps, digging her thumbs into the flesh there, working out any aches. Down his lats, over his delts, smoothing over the back of his hips. And then over the front of his hips, up his abs and obliques. Further up, over his pecs and chest, scratching through dense chest hair and circling his nipples.
“You’re the most amazing man,” she murmured as she ran her hands back down, towards his dick but not touching him. “I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you.”
She slipped her hands back towards his back, down his firm ass, over the back of his thighs, to the front. Back up towards his cock, straining to be touched. She ignored it again, running her fingertips over his pelvis, up his stomach, dipping her finger into his belly button. Further up, back over his pecs, grasping his throat from behind.
“I can’t wait to be your wife,” she whispered. “I can’t wait for you to put babies in me.” She watched in the mirror as his cock hardened even further. He watched in the mirror too, how her hands stroked along his body.
She rubbed his back again, pressing kisses along his spine.
“Your body is so spectacular,” she sighed, grasping his ass with both hands, sucking on his trap.
“Fuck, Taylor,” Travis begged. She slid her hands over his body twice more, three times. Making sure to not touch his penis until he was about to explode.
She ran her hands over the front of his thighs, then up towards his balls, taking them in her hand and gently rolling them, tugging them.
Travis gasped, watching her touch him in the mirror. He breathed heavily, nostrils flaring as her hand played with his sack.
“Tay, please…” he whimpered.
She finally, mercifully, stroked her fingertips up his cock, delicately. She used her thumb to rub the bead of fluid that had appeared on the tip over the helmet of his dick, making it nice and slippery.
He swallowed hard as she started to gently jerk him, then, needing more lubrication, peeked out from behind his arm and spit into her hand, reaching around and stroking him from base to tip, and again, and again.
“Baby...” He groaned, continuing to watch her jerk him, his breathing getting heavier and heavier until he started clenching. “Tay, I’m gunna cum.”
“Cum for me, babe.” Taylor whispered into his flesh, her breathy request. “I want your cum.”
Her sweet, low voice was his undoing, Travis spilling into the sink as his orgasm overtook him.
“Fuck,” he gasped, holding onto the counter to avoid falling over.
Taylor released him, bending to pick up her towel, and wiping off her hand. Travis turned to her, his cock softening, but his face intense.
“You’re the most amazing woman I know,” he said plainly, wrapping her into a giant hug, lifting her off the floor. Taylor squealed, wrapping her legs around his waist.
He turned to push her back into the wall, giving himself more leverage.
“I love you, Taylor.”
From above him, her bare tits in his face, she grasped his cheeks. Tay leaned down and pressed a gentle, meaningful kiss to his lips.
“More than you’ll ever know, Trav. I love you more than you’ll ever know.”