10. Carter
10
Carter
T he walk back to the car is deceptively simple. Haven is beside me, her arms tucked into her hoodie, her fingers curled into the cuffs like she’s trying to keep the night’s chill from sneaking in. She’s quiet but not tense, relaxed but still watching me, tracking my movements like she’s trying to figure something out.
I should take her back to the Airbnb. That’s the smart move, the safe move.
When we reach the car and I open the door for her, I hear myself ask, “You wanna head back now, or you up for more?”
She tilts her head, considering. Then, just to mess with me, just to see how I react, she smiles and says, “What, you don’t want to show me your house?”
Fuck. I pause, my body going completely still. She doesn’t know what she’s actually asking. She doesn’t know that if I take her back to my place, she won’t just be walking into my world, she’ll be walking into Tate’s too.
I force a breath, force my shoulders to stay loose, keep my expression easy, like that didn’t just send a spike of cold adrenaline down my spine. I have two choices. Option one, I take her back to the Airbnb. Keep it simple, keep it normal, keep Tate out of the picture.
Option two, I bring her home. Pretend nothing is wrong, hope to god Tate is gone or asleep or suddenly decided to develop basic human decency.
The second option? A risk, a big one. If he’s there and awake, if he decides this is the moment he wants to insert himself into this situation, everything I’ve built with her, everything I’ve been trying to keep separate, collapses.
I grip the edge of the car door, rolling the thought around in my head, weighing my next move. Then I glance at Haven, and she’s watching me again, brown eyes sharp and waiting.
I force a laugh, shaking my head like she didn’t just unknowingly back me into a fucking corner. “Trust me, sweetheart, you’re not missing much.”
Haven raises an eyebrow, her smile deepening like she knows she’s gotten under my skin. “That bad, huh? What, you hiding some embarrassing childhood bedroom situation? A twin-sized race car bed?”
I huff out a laugh, pulling open the driver’s side door. “Yeah, something like that.”
I don’t wait for her response, I slide into the car, grip the wheel, and exhale slowly as she settles in beside me.
She doesn’t press. She doesn’t push me for an answer, but she’s still waiting.
Now it’s obvious I don’t want to take her back to my place. I have a feeling if I don’t give her a reason why, she’s going to start coming up with her own. I also know better than to let a woman do that.
I rub a hand over my jaw, forcing my voice back to neutral. “You wanna head back? Or do you feel like a drive?”
Haven watches me for a second longer before she shrugs. “A drive sounds nice.”
Relief uncoils in my chest. Good, that buys me time. That keeps her away from Tate.
I start the car, shifting into gear, pulling away from the diner. The streetlights blur past us, stretching shadows across the empty roads, the town winding down for the night, the world narrowing down to just us in the quiet of the car. I can feel her looking at me, waiting for me to say something, waiting for me to fill the silence with whatever it is she thinks I’m holding back.
She’s not wrong, there’s a lot I’m holding back.
The fact that my brother, who she already can’t fucking stand, is the same guy she’s spent the last six months bickering with online. The fact that I didn’t tell her before she got here, that I’m still not telling her.
The worst part, she trusts me. She’s sitting in my car, completely relaxed, no hesitation in her voice when she agreed to keep driving. Like she doesn’t have a single doubt about who I am or what I’m not telling her.
I grip the wheel tighter, my jaw clenching. I should tell her. I should tell her now, but I don’t. Instead, I dart my gaze toward her, forcing my smile back into place. As long as I keep her moving, keep her distracted, keep Tate out of the picture a little longer. I can pretend this isn’t already spiraling.
The road stretches dark and quiet ahead of us, the only sound the low hum of the radio and the occasional tap of Haven’s fingers against her knee, keeping rhythm with the music.
I don’t know where I’m driving. I just know I need to keep moving. Keep her away from Tate, keep the lie from unraveling.
Haven shifts beside me, pulling one leg up onto the seat, her face catching the glow of the dashboard lights. She looks… content. Like she belongs here, and I can’t afford to think about that right now.
I grip the wheel tighter, forcing my thoughts onto literally anything else, when my phone buzzes in the center console.
The name flashes across the screen. Tate, my stomach instantly drops. Fuck.
I reach for it answering before Haven can glance down and see the name, before she can start asking questions I can’t answer.
“Not now,” I mutter, voice low.
Tate laughs. Pthat’s when I know this isn’t just a casual check-in. He’s fucking with me. “What, no pleasantries?” His voice is too relaxed. “You left so fast, little brother. Thought we might have a nice chat.”
I glance at Haven out of the corner of my eye, her focus is still on the window, like she’s giving me privacy, like she’s not listening. When Tate speaks again I know she hears it.
“Come on,” Tate hums, just loud enough he know it will carry over the sound of the car. “Aren’t you gonna tell me where you ran off to?”
Haven shifts, I can tell her body tenses. Fuck.
I keep my voice as even as I can. “Not the time, Tate.”
Tate clicks his tongue, like he’s disappointed. He knows exactly what I’m trying to do. “Relax, Carter. I just wanted to know how she’s liking our town.”
My pulse spikes. I see it the second Haven’s posture changes, the way she stiffens, the way her head tilts just slightly, like she’s processing the words, trying to piece something together. She doesn’t know who he is. But she knows something isn’t right, and if Tate keeps talking, if he says the wrong thing, she will.
I grit my teeth, praying to whatever cruel god is watching that he doesn’t push this further. “Not now,” I repeat, voice harder, dangerous.
A pause. Tate chuckles. “Fine,” he mutters, voice dropping quieter. The call cuts out. Just like that. Like he got exactly what he wanted.
I lower the phone, forcing my grip to stay loose, forcing my face into something unreadable.
I can feel Haven looking at me now. She doesn’t say anything. But I know what’s coming, I know she’s about to ask.
I have no idea what the fuck I’m going to tell her. I sigh, attempting to shift the conversation, trying to get the focus off of me, off of Tate, off of the lie that is about to fucking explode if I don’t steer this in another direction.
“Who’s Tate?”
Shit.
“M-my brother.” I say, glancing at her. “Why? You interested in meeting him?” Why the fuck did I just say that.
Instead of brushing it off like I expected her to she shrugs. Like she didn’t just make my whole body lock up. “Yeah,” she says simply. “Sure, why not?”
My stomach drops. My hands tighten around the wheel, my breath punching short. I recover quickly, masking the panic creeping up my spine, keeping my voice neutral. “You sure about that?” I ask, making it sound like a joke, making it sound like she has no idea what she’s signing up for.
Haven laughs, tilting her head at me, studying me like she’s trying to figure something out. “What, is he that bad?”
Yes. Yes, Haven, he is. He is your worst fucking nightmare, and you don’t even know it. But I can’t say that. So I keep my voice light. “Depends.”
She raises an eyebrow. “On?”
I exhale slowly, dragging a hand through my hair, stalling. “On whether or not you like guys who push buttons just for fun.”
Haven huffs out a laugh. “Oh, please. I deal with people like that all the time.”
I nod, keeping my tone easy, like this conversation isn’t making my entire body go stiff. “Well,” I say, turning back to the road, keeping my voice calm. “Guess we’ll have to see about that.”
She doesn’t realize what I mean. But Tate will, and that’s the fucking problem.