Travis very publicly threw down the gauntlet a few days later on some football show. "I told her that I've seen her rock a stage in Arrowhead and she might have to come see me rock the field." Taylor rolled her eyes at that one. A bit heavy handed, but it set up her planned "surprise" appearance at his game that week.
"Baby, let the games begin," Taylor said to herself as she deplaned in Kansas City.
It was strange for her to be back at the stadium she'd been performing at just a few months prior. She loved being on tour. While almost anyone else might think performing for 80,000 people was daunting, she felt alive in that stadium. Having a stadium full of people not only understand, but love her through the songs she'd written about her own heartbreaks was incredible. But this wasn't her tour, this was a Chiefs game.
Every person in the stadium seemed to be buzzing about Taylor Swift's appearance, and that's exactly what Taylor wanted. She had on a KC Chiefs windbreaker that Tree had picked up for her that morning, tags still on. She was a Chiefs as of... an hour ago. She hadn't been to a football game in years and was actually looking forward to it beyond the photo opportunities: the cheering, the chicken fingers, and having absolutely no control over the game. It was liberating.
She'd requested to be sat with Travis' mom. Moms are safe and moms usually love Taylor.
"Welcome Taylor," Donna said, bringing her in for a hug. "Travis has been all quiet about you! Unlike him. You're going to have to give me the scoop on you two."
Taylor's stomach fell. They'd discussed telling their closest friends the truth about their situation, but Travis wasn't sure about his mom. He was afraid she wouldn't approve of a fake relationship, but he knew he couldn't lie to her. It seemed Donna was still under the impression they were really dating.
"Damn it, Travis," Taylor thought to herself. Great, now she was going to have to be the one to break it to Mama Kelce. Or maybe she could stick with the truth and just leave out some things. A win-win?
"It's still so early; we're just friends! But I so appreciate your hospitality. Everyone's been so welcoming. And I can't wait for a good game," Taylor smiled. Okay, phew, no lies there.
"And we're so happy to have you! Travis really is a good boy, but you let me know if I ever need to have a talk with him. But he's loved you for years. I can't see him messing that up being stupid!" Donna laughed. Taylor blushed.
The two women found a lot they had in common, particularly a penchant for baking. Donna didn't feel too different from Taylor's own mom, Andrea, which put Taylor at ease. As the game progressed, the announcers couldn't resist nonstop references to her songs. She cheered loudly when Travis scored a touchdown and definitely felt more like a cheer captain than she ever had before. She was playing a part, but it was a fun part to play. Travis was looking up at her from the field with stars in his eyes; he was good at this. This was turning out to be one of her better ideas; at least where relationships were concerned.
"What did you think?" Travis busted into the suite after the game. Okay, maybe he didn't "bust in," but his ability to immediately fill a room took some getting used to.
"That was great. And you won! Well done," Taylor said.
"Yeah, I planned that. I paid off some guys," Travis smiled.
"Smart, that was a good move."
"Thank you. I'm very smart. How was Mom?"
"Lovely," Taylor said.
"She always is. And now? Afterparty," he grinned impishly.
"Afterparty?" Taylor asked.
"I'm not going to spoil it. Follow me."
Travis grabbed her hand and pulled her through the cement block hallways of the stadium to a private parking garage for the team.
"I present, your getaway car," Travis indicated to a purple convertible, smiling from ear to ear, so proud of his reference.
"What is this??" Taylor clapped her hands in excitement.
"A 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle convertible. I can't have you showing up to the afterparty in anything less."
"With the top down? But then everyone will see us. And what about security?"
"I cleared it with your security guy; he's a fan, so that helped. And hell yes! I somehow convinced THE Taylor Swift to come to my game. I want as many people to see you with me as possible. I'm already thinking about what I'm going to write in my diary tonight. Best day ever."
"Best day ever? What about the Superbowl?"
"It's up there, but how many guys have won the Superbowl? And how many guys have gotten to take Taylor Swift on a date? I rest my case," Travis walked around to open Taylor's door.
Taylor looked down and exasperatedly said, "I think a lot of people would say I've dated a whole leagues-worth of guys."
Travis lifted up Taylor's chin to his gaze. "And fuck those people. If anyone tries to pull that shit in front of me, God help me." Taylor had never seen Travis look this intense. She imagined this was the Travis the opposing team saw on the field.
Travis blinked and shook his head, his smile returning, "Gotta defend my 'girlfriend!'" He said in an exaggerated voice to accompany his air quotes. "Now let's get you to this party."
Travis wasn't what she expected. Well, in some ways he was. He was big and goofy and impossibly confident. She was surprised (but grateful) that Travis also had a mellower side. Most of the time they'd spent together had been more logistics than anything else, but in moments with just the two of them, he had an easy smile. He also did not seem to care what others thought, which was a skill Taylor was actively working on. He could probably teach her a thing or two about not giving a fuck. She'd felt paralyzed by the opinions of everyone else for most of her life, but no more, she decided.
Taylor smiled sincerely and stepped gracefully into the passenger seat. "Alright then, let's go, Mr. Getaway Car."
Travis beamed and jumped into the driver's seat.
-
The afterparty was electric. Travis had rented out the restaurant so the guest list was limited to the team and well-vetted friends. The drinks were delicious, if deceptively strong, and Taylor was dancing and singing along to every song. Travis smiled from a table as he watched her screaming, "It's gonna be me!" with Patrick Mahomes' wife.
"Damn, man, Taylor Swift, huh?" Travis' friend Dan approached. Dan had been in the suite with Taylor during the game.
"I know. Did she seem to be having fun? How was she with Mom?" Travis asked.
"She was great. Super sweet, taking a ton of photos. I think Mike had her facetime his little cousin! She seemed to hit it off with your mom too."
"Great, that's great." Travis once again couldn't believe the unbelievable circumstances that had ended with Taylor Swift jumping around to *NSYNC in a Kansas City bar, and then he remembered the arrangement. Her fun seemed genuine, but he knew her feelings for him weren't. If nothing else, he was glad he could show her a good time. Let no one try to say Travis Kelce doesn't know how to have a good time.
Travis was taking a moment in a quiet booth when Taylor pulled herself away from the dancefloor to grab another drink. She plopped down next to him.
"Well, hello. Are you having fun?" Travis asked, delighted to be talking to her. This kept happening to him. When would he get used to it?
"I'm having a lot of fun. Did you tell the DJ I was a big *NSYNC fan?"
"I may have," he smiled.
"Youuuuu!" Taylor laughed as she pointed her finger in his face. "Do you know what you are?" she asked, leaning closer. Her eyes were getting heavy and her words were starting to run together. Travis had been keeping an eye on her, but these KC drinks did not hold back.
"What am I?" he asked.
"You're lizard brain hot."
"Excuse me?" Travis feigned offense, putting his hand on his chest.
"You're tall. You're muscley. I know I shouldn't be attracted to you, but my instinctual lizard brain is like, 'damn. Climb him like a tree and make tall babies,' you know?" Taylor was now putting her chin on his shoulder, looking up at him.
Travis laughed. "Thank you? I guess?" he said dubiously. She was sitting so close now and she was beautiful. She was glowing, a bit from dancing as hard as she was, but more so from the air of relaxation around her. This wasn't the same super-controlled Taylor he'd met in New York.
"It's a compliment," she said. "I'm in my No Fucks Era. I was so scared for so long, that now I'm just like 'fuck it.' I'll do what I want to do, have fun, and not worry so much about what everyone's going to say about it, you know?"
"Then what do you need a fake boyfriend for?" he asked.
"Okay yeah, that," Taylor leaned back in the booth, her head heavy. "I need a fake boyfriend so I can give no fucks about everything else. And for my friends. It sucks when you're trying to get a coffee with an old friend and it's front page news. 'New man for Taylor?? Everything we know about the mystery man!'" she said cartoonishly.
"That sucks," Travis said.
"Is what it is," she threw her hands up. "But you seem like someone that's very good at not giving a fuck."
"Hah! Yes. 100% yes. Something I'm very proud of," Travis laughed.
"How??" Taylor asked.
"How? Hm. Well. I don't give a fuck," Travis smirked. Taylor rolled her eyes. He continued, "Okay, okay. How? I don't think I could worry about what people think; I wouldn't be able to do my job. I know what I'm about and I know what I gotta do on that field. Everything after that doesn't matter. And I have an older brother that made fun of me enough that I'm numb to it. You just gotta laugh it off, because what else is there to do? People are gonna say what they're gonna say."
Taylor was drunk enough to think that was an extremely profound answer, and tomorrow's sober Taylor wouldn't remember it at all. She slurred, "Wooooooow. That's amazing. So amazing. Now back to you, Lizard Brain. What're you up to? Being all hot and nice and fun."
"You think I'm fun! Am I the best fake boyfriend you've ever had?" he was giving her a hard time, emphasizing the 'fake.' The fake part was her doing, and he wanted to remind her of that.
"Ugh, don't make me regret giving you a compliment. You have too much confidence as it is; I need to be careful to not give you any more ammo," she teased.
"Not too much if you can back it up, baby! Woo!" Travis hollered.
Taylor drew her hand down her face, mocking annoyance. "Now there's the Travis I thought I was getting to be my fake boyfriend. The getaway car was a nice touch though. I didn't expect that. But it's getting late. Does my fake boyfriend want to drive me back to his place in his purple convertible?" She turned toward him in the booth, draped her legs over his lap and placed her hand on his chest. God, those legs went on for days. Hadn't he had this exact dream at least a dozen times?
"Love to, but you said nothing physical, remember?"
"I'm rethinking that," Taylor looked up at him, defiantly.
Travis could see she was too drunk to feel good about this in the morning, and he wasn't interested in being a regret. Those legs would have to wait. "Alright my Miss Americana, let's get you safe and sound to your hotel room."
"Boo, that's no fun," she pouted as he scooped her up and set her down out of the booth.
"Maybe another time. Let's get you back," Travis said as he draped his arm over her and led her to the door.