Chapter 22 #2
Her eyes are bright, curious, a little wild. “Yes, Carter. Actually.”
I blink. “With what, exactly?”
“Wow, you’re really thinking logistics?”
“Answer the question.”
She tilts her head. “Ropes. Silk scarf. Zip ties if we’re being creative.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Just answer honestly.”
I exhale, slow. “If it was you…”
Her smile falters, just a little.
“…I’d let you do anything.”
Her fingers hover above the trackpad, then drop to her lap. For a second, the room feels smaller—like all the air’s caught between us.
“Scientific research, huh?” I murmur.
She swallows, voice barely above a whisper. “Purely academic.”
The laptop screen goes dim, and she closes it slowly, setting it on the table and then she climbs into my lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I go still.
Her hands settle on my shoulders. Her legs straddle mine. My heart forgets how to work properly.
“You’d let me do anything?” she whispers, eyes drifting to my mouth.
I nod, breathless. “Anything.”
She leans in. “Good to know.”
Her thigh presses against mine, her grin doing that dangerous little thing where it tugs higher on one side. “You remember how you found me?” she asks. “Scrolling shorts during lunch?”
I groan immediately. “Oh no. We’re doing this now?”
“You were just a little lurker,” she says, poking me in the side. “A digital voyeur. Admit it.”
“Okay, first of all—rude. Second, yes.”
She cackles. I roll my eyes but let the memory play anyway, yeah I remember.
“I wasn’t even watching gaming stuff that day,” I mutter. “It was like, dog videos and dumb fails. Then I scroll past this clip of a girl in a headset with ridiculous ears, yelling at her squad.”
She gasps. “The ‘bush’ clip.”
“Yup.” I shake my head. “You flamed some poor guy for trying to snipe from a bush while sprinting. I had no clue what game it was I just couldn’t stop watching you laugh.”
Her grin softens, just a little.
“So I clicked through. Watched a few streams. Subscribed. And then, when I finally worked up the nerve to say something in chat, I asked if your loadout was intentional or an accident.”
Haven lets out a bark of laughter. “That’s right! You asked me if I meant to run dual pistols.”
“You roasted me immediately,” I say, grinning. “Called me a ‘sweet clueless soul’ and told me to ‘just stay behind the payload and bring snacks.’”
“Which, to be fair, is still great advice.”
“And I’ve been following you around like a lost puppy ever since.”
She hums. “You were so quiet at first. Sweet little ghost viewer. Didn’t know you were a whole Carter.”
“Didn’t know you were going to wreck me, either,” I murmur.
I remember all of it. The exact moment I saw her for the first time and thought oh, this one’s going to matter.
Her lips brush mine soft at first, barely a kiss, just enough to tease. Then she deepens it, her hips rolling forward just enough to make me gasp. My hands find her waist instinctively, trying to anchor myself in the feeling of her.
She breaks the kiss with a little smirk and whispers, “I bet you’d look really pretty in rope, Carter.”
I groan, tipping my head back against the couch. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Little bit,” she hums, brushing her nose against mine.
My hands slide under her hoodie, splayed over her hips, fingers flexing as I try not to grind up against her like a guy who’s completely lost control.
I have and I’d lose it again for her in a heartbeat.
The front door creaks open just as Haven’s dragging her fingers through my hair again.
Tate steps in with his hood up, bag slung over his shoulder, and yep. There it is, the unmistakable smell of cigarettes.
I wrinkle my nose. “Seriously?”
“What?”
“Is that smoke, and I thought you were going home to grab something?”
He shrugs, dropping the bag near the hallway. “Didn’t think you’d smell it, and decided I’d go to the house tomorrow or something, stopped by some park for a smoke.”
Haven turns around on my lap, and eyes Tate with one arched brow. “Didn’t you say you were going to quit?”
“I did.”
“You just picked it back up for fun?”
“Something like that,” he mutters, pulling his hoodie off and tossing it onto the arm of the couch.
I sigh and let my head fall back against the cushion.
Tate’s grin flickers briefly before he stretches, glancing at the hallway. “Which one of you is taking the bed tonight?”
Haven raises her hand lazily. “Me.”
“I meant which guy.”
“You can have it.” I say.
Tate lifts a brow.
I wave it off. “But at this point, I’m investing in an air mattress.”
“What, so you and I can switch off like bunkmates?”
Haven grins, imagining it. “Oh please do. I’d pay good money to see that.”
“You want me on an inflatable rectangle with no headboard and a slow leak in the middle of the night?”
“I want you in the same room,” I say, stretching. “So I don’t have to feel like I’m third-wheeling in my own relationship when she climbs out of bed to go on the couch with you.”
Tate stares for a second… then snorts. “I’ll think about it.”
He disappears into the hallway, bag slung over one shoulder, peeling his shirt off as he goes.
I glance at Haven. “Air mattress?”
She shrugs. “Or rope.”
My jaw drops. She just winks and heads off to brush her teeth. When she comes back, her eyes are softer, her smile quieter. She crawls onto the couch beside me, tugging the covers high, one bare leg sliding against mine. “You still thinking about the quiz?” I ask.
She nods sleepily. “You still letting me top you mentally?”
I groan. “It’s not mental if you’re sitting on my lap like a queen.”
She hums. “You like it.”
“I like you.”
Her hand finds my chest. “Good. Because I like being the one who breaks your brain.”