Chapter 24
Tate
The kill shot lands clean with the final score.
The chat blows up instantly with the announcement that I qualify for the tournament. Exploding with caps-locked usernames, fire emojis, and edits quickly being spammed in real-time. My headset buzzes with static from too many notifications trying to come through at once. Subs pour in like rain.
My hand drops to my thigh and lands on Haven’s hand.
We’ve been sitting like this for half the match, her curled up on the edge of the couch next to me, the gaming chair angled enough to keep her in my periphery with her knee touching mine.
I reach over and grab my phone from the desk before I can change my mind. I snap a pic, making sure not to include my face. Just my hand draped possessively over hers, with my fingers curled over her delicate ones; clear enough to make my point. Mine. I post it with the caption For motivation.
That’s all it takes as my feed detonates within seconds. Screenshots, theories and instantly fast fan edits dropping. Some catch the matching hoodie sleeves. I don’t reply to a single one before I mute the alerts.
I sit back in my chair my hand still covering hers, Haven shifts under my hand, just enough to pull my attention back. She slides her hand out and stands up, heading toward the kitchen. “I’m gonna grab a snack.”
Carter doesn’t say anything, which is how I know something’s off.
He’s sitting on one of the recliners, half-heartedly clicking through a digital storefront like he’s trying to care about game skins and add-on packs, but he hasn’t actually selected anything. His foot taps against the floor, restless. He hasn’t looked at me once since I grabbed my phone.
The post has already hit four digits of engagement.
I glance at him again. He’s pretending he’s not clearly spiraling about something stupid.
So I break the silence. “You gonna pout over there all day, or…?”
His eyes dart up, startled. “What?”
“You’ve had the same skin highlighted for ten minutes. If you’re trying to impulse-buy your feelings, at least commit.”
He exhales, sits back in the chair, rubs the back of his neck like he’s trying to scrub off the tension. “It’s not— I’m not pouting.”
I raise a brow. “You sure about that?”
He shrugs, his eyes glancing toward the phone still in my hand. “Just… You post shit like that and the whole internet melts. I say one thing about Haven on stream and it’s like I’m soft-launching my shame.”
Ah. There it is. I set my phone down, screen face-up, the photo still visible. “You jealous, little brother?”
Carter’s mouth twists. “No. Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Honest,” I say dryly.
He shoots me a glare, but it’s all frustration and none of the fight. “It’s not like I want the same attention you get. You live in the spotlight while I’m barely figuring out how to stream without tripping over my own mic.”
“But?”
“But sometimes it feels like everyone’s watching you. Like I’m… less in it. Less seen.”
I stare at him for a second. Then sigh, sit up a little straighter. “You think I posted that for them?.”
Carter remains quiet.
I nod toward my phone. “That wasn’t about the likes, or the edits. Or the fucking chaos. That was about her.” I tap the screen. “I posted it so Dylan sees it. So everyone sees it. So she knows she doesn’t have to hide anymore.”
Carter swallows hard.
“And as for you?” I add, quieter now. “You think she doesn’t look at you like you soften her goddamn world?”
His throat works around something that I know would piss me off. I shake my head. “We’re different. We always have been. But it’s not a competition, it’s never been a competition.”
Haven might orbit both of us in her own quiet way, but Carter’s the one who softens her edges. The one she looks at like the world isn’t constantly trying to claw pieces off her.
I’ve been watching his back longer than either of them probably realizes. That’s just how it’s always been, me a step ahead, making sure nothing gets close enough to knock him down before he’s ready for it.
Some things you don’t compete over. Some things you just protect.
“I mean it when I say you’re the only one she melts for.”
The tension bleeds off his shoulders. He blows out a breath and leans back in the chair, a sheepish smile tugging at his mouth. “You’re still an asshole.”
“Obviously.”
“…Thanks though.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
Cassie’s loud but her boyfriend James is louder and I’m at my limit. I can feel the pressure building behind my eyes.
There’s music on in the background and the scent of takeout boxes starting to make everything smell sticky-sweet and fried that makes my head throb.
I’m on the edge of the couch with Carter sitting cross-legged on the floor, making Cassie laugh with some story about nearly falling off the stage when he opened for a tiny local band back in high school.
Haven’s curled up next to her with her legs tucked under, her expression soft and bright and so fucking radiant that it almost hurts to look at her.
Sometimes it does.
But the walls are closing in. Too much and too loud with too many people breathing my air. I stand up quietly.
I grab my hoodie from the hook by the door and slip out, tugging the zipper up, the cool night air slicing into my overheated brain like a reset button. The second the door clicks shut behind me, I breathe deep.
I walk around the block, slow and aimless, letting the silence fill my ears until I don’t feel like I’m about to climb out of them. When I make it back within a few minutes I can see Haven standing by her car, her eyes scanning around before meeting mine.
“Hiding?”
“You’re barefoot,” I deadpan.
She doesn’t even glance down at her feet as she shrugs and walks up closer. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I just needed air.”
“You always do that when things get too warm.”
“Better than blowing up at everyone.”
She nods, then looks up at me. “You want to go back inside?”
My gaze drops to her lips. “Eventually.”
She opens her mouth, probably to tease me. I back her against her car while my hands slam to the sides of her waist, holding her in place, my hips pressing against hers. Her breath stutters against my throat.
My mouth crashes into hers, messy and desperate that I don’t even think about the fact that someone might see.
This is the only way I know how to breathe sometimes.
She moans against my mouth, her fingers tangling in the front of my hoodie, tugging me closer.
I grind into her once—just enough to make her gasp then lean back.
“You keep looking at me like that during dinner, I’m gonna drag you into this car and fog the windows until Carter starts knocking.”
“I wasn’t even trying,”
“That’s always the fucking problem isn’t it pretty girl?”
She grabs the front of my hoodie again and yanks me down for one more kiss. When we finally come up for air, she’s smiling.
“You good now?”
I nod and follow her back inside.
Dinner ends in a blur of chopsticks, half-eaten dumplings, and sauce packets scattered across the coffee table.
Cassie and James take the hint when Carter fake-yawns and starts gathering takeout boxes with too much enthusiasm.
Haven walks them to the door with a smile, but soon as the door shuts, the energy shifts.
She exhales as she leans her head against the door for a second.
“I love her, but I need someone to mop my brain.”
Carter grins. “I call the rest of trash duty.”
I nod toward the leaning tower of paper containers on the coffee table. “Then I’ll disinfect.”
Haven peeks over her shoulder at me. “I’ll vacuum.”
She ends up refolding all the blankets instead, mumbling something about the throw pillows being “chaotic bisexuals” and trying to color-code them on her couch.
Carter finishes trash duty first, so he heads to the kitchen to wash up. I wipe down the coffee table, clean off the surfaces, and re-stack the coasters in a perfect little square, ignoring the twitch in my fingers that wants to control everything.
When I glance over at Haven, she’s crouched by the bookshelf, straightening a stack of half-empty notebooks. Her tank top’s slipped slightly, one bra strap visible, a thin line of her back calling to me like a goddamn siren.
That’s when the idea hits.
My hand slides into my bag by the desk. I tug out the rope. Soft black, silk blend. One I purchased as soon as I knew we’d be coming to visit.
I let it slide between my fingers, the texture instantly grounding, instantly dangerous.
Haven doesn’t notice I’ve moved behind her until the first loop of it slides across the back of her thighs.
She gasps and straightens as she turns to find me behind her, tbr rope draped casually over my shoulder, one brow arched.
“Really?”
Carter walks back in from the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel and freezes when he sees the rope in my hands. “I thought we were cleaning.”
“We are,” I say, circling Haven like a predator, rope brushing her hips, “starting with her head.”
Carter laughs softly but doesn’t stop me.
Haven bites her lip. “Well. I did say I needed help unwinding.”
I back her up slowly, one hand gripping her jaw, tilting her face toward mine. “You’re going to go lay down on your bed, and you’re gonna let me tie you up while Carter worships every inch of you.”
We don’t waste time heading to her room. I dim her lights before I make her kneel first, just long enough to loop the first knot behind her back, then lift her onto the bed. Carter kisses her like she’s made of glass, his hands everywhere she needs them.
I kiss the inside of her thighs before I slowly rope her wrists to the headboard and whisper every unholy thing I plan to do between her legs until she whimpers.
It still surprises me sometimes. How completely she gives herself over to the moment. Never any hesitation or doubt.
Just trust, that kind of trust is the most dangerous thing in the world. Once someone hands it to you, breaking it stops being an option.
I drag the last knot tight against the curve of her wrists, the silk biting gently into her skin, securing her to the headboard. To remind her she’s the centerpiece of this room, this moment, us.
Her legs are spread, bent at the knees.
Carter kneels beside her, brushing her hair back from her damp forehead, his lips pressing softly to her jaw, her cheekbone, the corner of her mouth. “Goddamn Haven, you’re so fucking beautiful like this.”
She shifts beneath him, her back arching and thighs clenching when I settle at the end of the bed. My hands skim up the backs of her knees, then drag down her calves “I haven’t even started.’”
Carter leans down to kiss her neck, whispering something soft that I can’t hear but it makes her whimper. She turns her head, chasing his mouth with hers.
I hook her ankles over my shoulders and lower my head. The first drag of my tongue is slow, deliberate, and fucking greedy.
She gasps and Carter moans at the sound she makes.
I tease her with my tongue until she’s shaking, groaning her name between strokes like if I say it enough, I’ll summon every orgasm she’s ever buried.
Carter massages her tits, his thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks. She’s tugging at the ropes now, needing something to ground her.
“You can take it,” I murmur against her skin. “You were made to be wrecked like this.”
She cries out, her head falling back against the pillows.
Carter shifts beside her, kissing the underside of her jaw. “You want to come, baby? You want us to let you?”
Her whole body clenches. She’s on the edge.
I slip two fingers inside her, curling them just right, while my tongue keeps moving and coaxing her closer.
She breaks. Hard. Beautiful. Loud. Her scream is caught in Carter’s kiss.
I don’t stop.
Not until her body goes limp, trembling, her chest rising and falling like she just came back from the dead.