Chapter 35 #2
“You okay?” Cassie asks gently.
I don’t look up from my screen. “Yeah.”
“Like, really okay?”
I meet her eyes.“They’ve never made me feel like I was too much, I don’t want to keep pretending I’m not theirs.”
Cassie grins. “Well then, let them know who the hell you are, Havie baby.” She’s still laughing when she sets her empty cup in the sink. “You better be ready for your entire Discord to combust. People are trying to figure out how to respectfully thirst after all three of you at once.”
“I mean, they’re not wrong,” I tease, walking her to the door. “You’re just lucky I didn’t post your spicy texts to James from last week.”
She gasps, mock-offended. “Low blow.”
We hug tight in the doorway, the kind of hold that says I’m proud of you, without needing to say the words. She squeezes me one last time before pulling back. “You need anything, you text me.”
“Love you, Cass.”
She smiles, stepping out onto the front steps. “Love you more, chaos queen.”
And then I’m alone again. Well, sort of. The door clicks open a while later, quiet at first like they’re trying not to bother me, then not quiet at all when Tate kicks it shut with his foot.
“We’re back,” he calls.
“In the kitchen,” I answer.
They come in loaded with bags, Carter heads straight for the counter while Tate drops everything a little less carefully.
“You bought the entire store?” I ask.
“Only the good parts,” Carter says.
Tate nods toward the hallway. “We’re packing most of our stuff back into the car tonight after we get this a;; put away.”
I blink. “Why?”
“So we don’t have to do it in the morning,” he says. “Makes it easier to just leave.”
Leave. The word sits weird in my chest, but I ignore it. “Efficient I guess.”
“Smart,” Carter corrects gently, brushing past me to start putting things away. “That way we get more time with you tonight instead of dealing with bags.”
That helps. I move with them, falling into an easy rhythm, putting things in cabinets. Tate disappears and reappears a few times, carrying stuff back out to their car.
The twins are still passed out in my bed tangled up in each other and my throw blanket, despite the amount of time’s Tate refused to get that close to Carter while we cuddled. They needed the nap. We all did.
I close the door quietly behind me, the weight of the last few days pressing into my skin like gravity itself is heavier lately.
And right now I need a reset.
I strip off my hoodie and leggings on the way to the bathroom, kicking them toward the hamper and twisting the shower knob until steam starts to rise against the glass door.
Five minutes to exist without being seen by anyone.
I step in and let the heat soak into my shoulders, the steam curling around me like a second skin. My muscles unclench one knot at a time.
A few moments I hear it. A soft knock before the door creaks open.
Carter’s voice cuts through the hiss of the water. “You didn’t think we were gonna let you hog the afterglow all to yourself, did you?”
I smile without turning. “Thought you two were dead to the world.”
“Power nap,” Tate grumbles from somewhere behind him. “Now we’re recharged. And nosy.”
Carter steps in first—not into the shower, just into the bathroom. He sits on the closed toilet seat like he’s done this a thousand times, reaching for my shampoo without asking. “Tilt your head back, baby.”
I do as I’m told, my eyes fluttering closed as his fingers slide into my hair, slow and gentle, massaging my scalp with that golden retriever devotion.
“You’ve been carrying the weight of the world,” he murmurs. “Let me take some of it.”
His nails drag lightly, hitting that perfect spot behind my ears, and I exhale a shaky breath.
Tate leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed just watching.
Carter rinses my hair, carefully shielding my eyes, his hands steady and warm. “Almost done,” he whispers. “And then I want you to just breathe, okay?”
I nod, all I can feel is the peace of being cared for. When he finishes, he presses a kiss to the top of my head through the glass, then steps back, handing me a towel.
“We’ll be in the room,” he says softly, guiding Tate out by the wrist. “Don’t take too long.”
Tate’s eyes catch mine before he goes.
I emerge from the bathroom with damp hair and freshly moisturized skin. But the second I step into my bedroom, it’s game over.
Tate ’s sitting cross-legged on my bed, holding my phone. Carter’s sprawled next to him, arms behind his head, lazy grin stretching across his face. “You broke the internet sweetheart.”
I blink. “Wait—what… oh my post.”
Carter holds up his own phone. “Twitter’s on fire. People are either making thirst threads or having meltdowns.”
“And Reddit,” Tate mutters, scrolling with one hand.
I snort. “I mean, I did say I was gonna shake things up.”
Dinner ends up being simple. Just the three of us in my kitchen, while Carter moves between the stove and the counter, flipping something over in the pan while humming under his breath.
Tate hovers nearby, pretending to help. Mostly he’s just swiping bites when Carter turns his back, and I catch him every time.
“Stop,” Carter says without even looking.
“I’m taste testing,” Tate says, a full fork in hand,
“You’ve taste-tested six times.”
“I’m consistent.”
I laugh, leaning against the counter, arms crossed, letting the warmth of the kitchen wash over me. “You’re both ridiculous, you know that?”
“Yet here we are,” Tate says, tilting his fork toward me like he’s making a point.
“Here we are,” I echo, smiling.
Carter finally slides the pan off the stove, setting it down with a soft thud. “We’ll sit before it all gets cold,” though neither of them moves fast enough to escape the habit of hovering.
We grab our plates and settle in the living room, our knees pressed together, balancing food as if we’re afraid one wrong move will tip it all over. The TV plays quietly in the corner, but no one’s actually paying attention.
I catch Tate’s gaze on me out of the corner of my eye. Carter nudges my foot with his own, just a light tap, and his eyes flick up to mine. “You good?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
Tate leans back, arms resting on the couch behind him. “You sure?”
I glance between them, feeling it—the strange gravity of this tiny, messy orbit we’ve created. “I’m really good.”
They both relax a little. Carter lets out a soft exhale, shoulders loosening, and Tate leans forward again.
I take a bite, and chew slowly, letting the rhythm sink in. I watch them, and for the first time since everything I met them, since the tournament, since all of it, I know I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.