Chapter 27
Carter
The morning light cuts through the blinds, casting golden stripes across Haven’s skin.
She’s still sound asleep when I wake up. Her hair is messy, her cheeks mushed against the pillow and one arm curled loosely across my stomach.
I don’t want to break the moment, all I do is look at her. Something in my chest shifts, it’s not new; the feeling.
But it’s sharper today, like it’s clawing up my throat with every beat of my heart, whispering tell her, tell her, tell her.
I don’t know when it stopped being casual.
Maybe from the first time she looked at me with those wide, curious eyes like I was something worth figuring out I was already in too deep.
It’s terrifying. What if I’m wrong? What if I’m the one who loves harder?
So I do what I always do when the words feel too heavy.
My hand finds her hip under the blanket, soft and slow. I stroke over the curve of it, down to the dip of her waist, just memorizing. My fingers trace the line of her ribs, the slope of her back, the dip of her spine, every inch of her mine to worship.
She stirs, breath catching, but doesn’t wake. I kiss her shoulder, her neck then her jaw.
Then she opens her eyes. “Hi,” she whispers.
I smile. “Hi.”
Her hand moves up to touch my chest, fingers curling lightly in the fabric of my shirt. “You’re looking at me like I’m a miracle or something.”
“You are.”
I slide my hand to her cheek, my thumb brushing beneath her eye. “I need to say something. And I don’t want to ruin anything. But if I don’t get it out now, I’m gonna explode.”
She nods, silent.
I take a breath. And then I say it. “I love you.”
She blinks slowly, like she’s letting the words settle in her chest.
“You don’t have to say it back,” I rush to add. “I just—I needed you to know. You don’t have to do anything with it. I just…”
She kisses me before I can let anything else stupid escape my mouth.
The way her mouth moves over mine, the way she cups my jaw like she’s anchoring me there, grounding me, holding me still so I feel it.
We move together slowly, everything soft just heat and emotion and so many goddamn feelings I can barely hold them all. She guides me inside her as I pull her on top of me.
My forehead presses against hers, our breaths mingling, the world quiet except for the sounds she makes—those quiet whimpers, those whispered moans, those choked-off gasps that sound like they’re carved straight from my ribs.
“I love you,” I whisper again, breaking apart right there in her arms.
She sits up, I can tell her mind is racing a million miles a minute. I pull her back down into my arms and just hold her there.
“I don’t know if I can say it,” she whispers against my skin. “Not because I don’t feel it—God, I do—but because every time I say that to someone, they leave. Or they change. Or they look at me like I handed them something too heavy to hold.”
I pull her closer, one hand cradling the back of her neck. “I want to be the last person you ever have to explain yourself to.”
“You already are,” she whispers. “That’s what scares me.”
Tate’s in the kitchen when I step out of Haven’s bedroom leaving her so she can shower in peace, leaning against the counter with his phone in his hand. He glances up. “You look annoyingly happy.”
“I am.”
He rolls his eyes a little. “Gross.”
I grab my keys off the counter. “I’m taking Haven out for a bit.”
His brow lifts. “Oh?”
“Yeah. Found this gamer store not too far from here. Figured she could use a break before finals.”
He nods once, pushing off the counter. “Good call.”
“You coming?”
“Nah.” He shakes his head, turning back toward the living room. “I’ve got stuff to do.”
“You mean you’re gonna sit on the couch and scroll.”
“Exactly,” he says. “Don’t rush back on my account.”
I smirk. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He pauses at the doorway, glancing back once. “Hey.”
“Yeah?”
He jerks his chin toward Haven’s room. “She’s been in her head a little. Don’t let her overthink today.”
“I won’t.”
“Good.”
Traffic slows just past the last freeway exit, a long line of cars inching forward while the sky continues turning a dark shade of gray. Haven leans her head back against the seat. “Why does everyone in this state forget how to drive the second it looks like rain?”
“Because it might rain,” I say. “That’s enough to cause chaos.”
She snorts. “Weak.”
I tap the steering wheel. “You say that now, but give it ten minutes and someone’s gonna slam their brakes for no reason.”
“Then you’ll heroically save us,” she says, glancing over at me.
“Obviously.”
She smiles, then goes quiet for a second, watching the trees blur past.
“Hey,” I say, softer. “You good?”
“Yeah.” She nods, but her fingers start picking at the sleeve of her hoodie. “Just thinking.”
“Dangerous.”
“I know.” She exhales. “It’s weird. Everything feels normal, but it’s not.”
I reach over, squeeze her knee. “You’re still you. That part didn’t change with that I said this morning.”
She looks at me, something softer settling in her expression. “You make it feel like it didn’t.”
“Because it didn’t.”
She studies me for a second, then leans over and presses a quick kiss to my shoulder before settling back into her seat. “Where are we going again?”
I shrug. “Just a little place I found online. Gamer gear, streamer stuff. Thought it might help clear your head.”
Her smile softens, lips curving gently as she tilts her head toward me. “You’re dangerously close to perfect, you know that?”
I grin. “That’s because you haven’t seen me try to parallel park yet.”
The store’s tucked between a vape shop and a thrift bookstore, easy to miss if you’re not looking for it. Inside, it’s dim and neon-lit, packed with everything from custom keyboards to LED panels, mic arms, mouse pads the size of literal yoga mats.
Haven lights up the second we walk in. “Okay, wait—this is dangerous,” she says, drifting away from me.
I watch her go for a second before following, letting her take the lead. “Budget,” I call after her.
“No promises.”
I trail her through the aisles, hands in my pockets, not really looking at anything except her. The way she moves from one thing to the next, the way her fingers brush over everything like she needs to feel it to understand it.
She stops at a wall of keyboards, pressing a few keys, listening. “Oh my god, listen to this one.”
She hits the same key again, glancing back at me like I’m supposed to get it immediately.
I step closer, leaning in just enough. “I don’t hear a difference.”
She gasps, actually offended. “Carter.”
“What?”
“That is a huge difference.”
I glance at the keyboard, then back at her. “Sounds like a button.”
She turns fully toward me, gearing up to argue. “You don’t deserve nice things.”
I grin before I can stop it. “Good thing I have you.”
She tries not to smile. “Okay, try this one,” she says, grabbing my wrist and pulling me in without thinking about it. My attention drops to her hand for a second, then back to her as she presses my finger down on another key.
I blink. “…Okay, yeah. That one’s aggressive.”
“Exactly.” She nods, satisfied. “That’s a crime.”
We move on, but she doesn’t let go right away.
Just keeps hold of my hand like it’s the most normal thing in the world while she drags me to the next display.
At some point she lets go, distracted by something else.
She’s comparing mouse weights now, one in each hand, brows pulled together like this is serious. “This one feels better,” she says.
I glance between them. “Because it’s pink.”
“It’s lavender,” she corrects.
“Right. Completely different.”
She bumps her shoulder into mine, not even looking at me when she does it. “You’re annoying.”
“You like me.”
“Unfortunately.” She looks away first, nudging my arm motioning to a shelf of gaming chair pillows.
While she’s distracted, I flag down the cashier and point to the sleek white-and-lavender headset I saw her eye earlier. “Can I get that one?”
They bag it up quietly.
I keep it behind my back until we’re walking out, the sun high above us and her laughter still echoing from inside.
“What’s that?” she asks, brow raised as I hand her the bag.
“Early good luck gift,” I say. “Finals are coming.”
She peeks inside and freezes. “Carter.”
“You need something that matches your vibe. Plus, I figured if you’re gonna keep kicking ass on stream, you should sound as good as you look.”
She throws her arms around me, nearly sending the headset flying, and buries her face in my neck.
“You are such a fucking sap,” she whispers.
“Guilty.”
We get back to Haven’s apartment just as the rain starts coming down.
Tate’s on the couch when we walk in, he lifts his head from the pillow when we come through the door.
“Buy me anything?”
Haven tosses a tiny sticker pack at him that contain neon skulls and pixel hearts. “You can put them on your forehead during your next stream.”
He grunts something that might be “thanks,” then groans and rolls over. “I’m napping. Wake me when the apocalypse hits.”
We leave him there, sprawled across the cushions, and head into her room.
The storm hasn’t hit yet, but the air feels heavy with it. We change into comfier clothes—she steals another hoodie from my bag, of course—and we pile into her bed with her laptop propped on a pillow between us.
“I want something dumb,” she says, flopping onto her side. “Like… ‘high schoolers survive the zombie apocalypse but also fall in love’ dumb.”
I chuckle. “Done.”
We settle on something ridiculous but she’s laughing, and her toes are hooked under the hem of my sweatpants, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Halfway through, I glance over and find her watching me instead of the screen. “What?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing. Just… I like this.”
“Me too.”