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Taylor reached out, her hand resting gently on his arm. The warmth of her touch made him fight the urge to pull her closer. For years, he’d told himself that love was a liability. Something that could be used against you, something that could destroy you. It had been easier, and made sense to keep everyone at arm’s length, building walls nobody could breach unless he allowed you to.

“That’s a heavy load to carry by yourself,” she said, her voice gentle but not pitying him.

“Yeah, it made me who I am.” He took a long sip, letting the burn ground him. “Lately, I’ve been thinking maybe my younger self had it wrong.”

“How so?”

The loneliness of these past few years had started to feel heavier than any fear of loss. He was bored. He’d made money. Enjoyed his youth a little bit. Now he was ready to, at minimum, start thinking about coming home to someone.

“I guess protecting yourself from hurt means you miss out on the good shit too. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”

Taylor’s gaze didn’t flinch. “Then maybe you shouldn’t miss it.”

The silence between them stretched, thick with what neither of them was ready to say out loud.

“Let me ask you something.” His voice dropped, using that smooth tone that made her lean in. It made her forget she was supposed to be keeping it cute.

Taylor took a slow sip of her drink, trying to calm the flutter in her chest. “What’s that?”

“If you didn’t care what anybody thought... whatwould you do?”

She blinked, caught off guard. “Like, in general?”

He nodded, eyes steady on hers. “If you weren’t worried about your daddy, your church, Blake, what your coworkers and shit would say... what’s something you’ve always wanted to do?”

Taylor exhaled and sank deeper into the cushions. The old version of herself would’ve played it safe. Said something cute, ‘Travel more,’ or ‘Take a painting class.’ But that woman had left the building. She was learning that chasing approval never came with peace. And ifperforming was the only way to be loved, she'd just do without it.

She was sitting in Brooks’ house, with no bra on, legs curled under her, sipping top-shelf whiskey, feeling at home. They were too comfortable with each other for her to give him a rehearsed answer. He’d call bullshit.

She chewed on her lip, then let the truth spill out, “Hhm, I’d go shake some ass at a strip club. I watched P- Valley and I don’t know it’s skill.”

His gaze dipped, roaming her body, and heat bloomed low in her stomach. That ass-shaking comment clearly pleased him, intrigued him.

She smirked, trying to play it cool. “Stop!” she said, swatting at him as he checked her out.

He set his drink down, turning toward her with that look. “Nah, I’m not stopping shit. Personally, I’d love to see you shaking ass in a strip club.”

“Stop. I could never,” she said through a laugh, nudging him with her elbow.

“I will, but first, tell me… are you serious?” His brow lifted, teasing but curious.

She huffed, shaking her head. “Brooks. Can youimagine me in a strip club? I’d be the talk of the town. Probably give my parents a heart attack. Tragic story on Channel 2.”

She tucked her hair behind her ears and added, “Reporting live from WZAB.”

His lips curled into something dangerous, tempting. “You laughing, but I can imagine it just fine.”

Her stomach flipped. She laughed again, but it came out shaky.

The way he was looking at her said he saw straight through the good girl act. He was daring her to be free, just once.

“Let’s go then,” he said casually, adjusting his watch cool. His demeanor said he was about to blow up her whole world. “I can make that happen for you. Right now.”

She blinked. “What?” Taylor scoffed, but her heart was pounding. “Brooks, be serious. It’s Tuesday.”

“I am.” He raised a brow. “You said you wanted to go to a strip club. Ain’t nothing stopping you but you.”

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Was he really calling her bluff? She narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms. “And what, you know just the place?”