Stormy Nights

                                    

                                          
The rain came down in torrents, drumming relentlessly against the windshield of Travis's truck. The wipers worked overtime, but even they struggled to keep up with the downpour. Taylor sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed, staring out into the darkness as the storm raged around them.
"I swear," she muttered, "the weather app said light showers. Light showers, Trav."
Travis smirked, keeping his eyes on the barely visible road ahead. "Well, Angel, next time we'll pack a boat just in case."
Taylor gave him a look, but the corners of her mouth betrayed a slight smile. "Very funny, Captain Obvious."
They had planned to spend the weekend at a cozy bed-and-breakfast upstate, but the storm had other ideas. With flooded roads and power outages, they'd been forced to find the nearest shelter—a tiny, off-the-grid cabin owned by one of Travis's old teammates.
The cabin appeared like a beacon in the storm, its dim lights flickering from a small generator. Travis parked the truck, then jogged through the rain to open Taylor's door.
"Come on, Superstar," he teased, offering her his hand.
"You're enjoying this way too much," she grumbled, taking his hand and making a run for the door.
Inside, the cabin was quaint but charming. A stone fireplace dominated the living room, and mismatched furniture gave the space a cozy, lived-in feel.
"I'll get the fire going," Travis said, shrugging off his jacket. "You okay, baby?"
Taylor nodded, though she shivered slightly. "Yeah, just wet and cold. And a little annoyed at the universe for ruining our plans."
As Travis knelt by the fireplace, Taylor wandered to the small kitchen and rummaged through the cupboards. She found a dusty tin of cocoa powder and some slightly stale marshmallows.
"Hot chocolate?" she called out.
"Yes, please, my love!"
A few minutes later, they were curled up together on the worn-out couch, steaming mugs in hand. The fire crackled, casting a warm glow across the room, and the storm outside seemed to fade into the background.
"This isn't so bad," Taylor admitted, leaning into Travis. "It's actually kind of nice."
"I told you," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I always have a backup plan."
She laughed softly. "I'm pretty sure this wasn't your plan, but I'll give you credit for improvising."
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the flames dance. Then, out of nowhere, the lights flickered and went out completely.
"Seriously?" Taylor groaned.
"Relax, Angel," Travis said, setting down his mug. "I've got a flashlight in my bag. Stay here."
As he rummaged around, Taylor couldn't help but chuckle. "You really are prepared for anything, aren't you?"
"I am a Boy Scout at heart," he joked, clicking on the flashlight and holding it under his chin like a campfire ghost story.
She rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a giggle. "You're such a dork."
"And you love it," he said, settling back beside her and pulling her close.
The night deepened, and the storm showed no signs of letting up. With no TV or internet, they were left with only each other for entertainment.
"Alright," Travis said, clapping his hands together. "Let's play a game. Truth or dare?"
Taylor raised an eyebrow. "Are we twelve?"
"Come on, Tails," he said, using one of his favorite nicknames for her. "Humor me."
"Fine. Truth."
He leaned back, pretending to think deeply. "What's your most embarrassing childhood memory?"
She groaned. "Oh, that's easy. I tried to impress a boy in third grade by singing a Shania Twain song during recess. Forgot all the words halfway through. He laughed. Everyone laughed. It was mortifying."
Travis laughed, not unkindly. "Poor baby."
"Your turn," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Truth or dare?"
"Dare," he said confidently.
"I dare you to..." She looked around the cabin for inspiration. "Do ten push-ups with me on your back."
He grinned. "Easy."
A minute later, Taylor was lying on his broad back, laughing hysterically as he cranked out push-ups like they were nothing.
"Okay, okay, stop!" she gasped, sliding off him and collapsing onto the floor.
"Too much for you, Angel?" he teased, flopping down beside her.
"You're ridiculous," she said, still catching her breath.
They lay there for a while, staring up at the ceiling. The storm continued to rage outside, but inside, everything felt warm and safe.
"You know," Taylor said softly, "I wasn't sure about this weekend at first. But I'm really glad we're here."
"Me too," Travis said, taking her hand and lacing his fingers through hers. "I love these little moments with you, Angel. Just us. No cameras, no crowds, no schedules."
She turned her head to look at him. "You always know how to make me feel better, don't you?"
"That's my job," he said, kissing her hand. "And I'm not planning on quitting anytime soon."
As the fire burned low, they moved back to the couch, wrapping themselves in a thick blanket. Travis hummed a familiar tune, and Taylor smiled, recognizing one of her own songs.
"Sing it," she said.
"No way," he said, shaking his head.
"Come on," she coaxed. "For me?"
He sighed dramatically but started singing in a low, off-key voice. Taylor laughed so hard she nearly spilled her cocoa.
"You're terrible," she said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.
"But you love me anyway," he said, pulling her closer.
"I really do," she said, her voice soft and sincere.
As the storm finally began to subside, they drifted off to sleep, tangled together on the couch. It wasn't the weekend they'd planned, but it was perfect in its own way—a reminder that sometimes, the best moments are the ones you don't see coming.