26. Carter
26
Carter
H aven knows exactly what she’s doing. The way she walked past me, her fingers just barely skimming my stomach? And the smirk she tried to hide? Yeah, she fucking knew. I exhale slowly, rolling my shoulders, shaking off the way my body is still tense, still wired, still irritated even though I have no fucking reason to be.
Tate’s a prick, that’s nothing new. But Haven? She’s a problem. A small, beautiful, brown-eyed problem who knows exactly how to press my buttons. I love it.
I follow after her, my jaw still tight, my hands twitching at my sides like I don’t know what to do with them.
The thing is though, I don’t get jealous. Not over Tate, not over anyone. I’ve never been in the position to and I don’t get territorial. I don’t get possessive. I don’t get this… whatever the fuck this feeling is curling through my chest right now. But watching her in his room, in his space, teasing him like they weren’t just fucking enemies online, laughing when his chat lost their shit over her being there? I didn’t like that. And the worst fucking part is that I know she did.
I step into the living room just as she flops onto the couch, stretching out like she owns the damn thing, her phone in her hand, a satisfied little smirk playing at her lips. I narrow my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”
She doesn’t even look up. “Am I?”
I cross my arms, tilting my head. “You knew exactly what you were doing in there.”
“And?” She shifts her gaze to me, one brow raised, amused. “You gonna punish me for it, golden boy?”
Fuck. I swallow hard. Because the way she says it… soft, teasing, like she’s daring me to do something about it? My cock sends an chase straight to my chest.
I tilt my head, watching the way she stretches out on the couch, her smile soft, her eyes full of mischief, like she’s just waiting for me to react.
She wants a response. A reaction. She wants to push me. So I give her nothing.
I lean against the back of the couch, keeping my voice easy, casual, letting the tease drip into my tone just enough to keep her guessing. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
Her brows lift, just slightly, like she wasn’t expecting that. I see the way she shifts, the way she processes, the way she tries to decide if I’m playing her game or if I just turned the tables on her. She huffs a laugh, shaking her head. “Fine. Whatever.” She waves a hand. “But what I do know is that I’m still helping you set up your PC.”
I grin and push off the couch, nodding toward the stairway. “Come on, then. Let’s get started.”
She sits up, stretching her arms above her head before standing, but right as she passes me, she shoots me a sideways glance, her lips curling. “Gonna wear a mask like Tate while we game?”
I groan, rubbing a hand down my face. “Jesus Christ, Haven.”
She just laughs, already walking ahead of me toward my room. I’m so fucking screwed.
We settle into my room, the trill of my new PC coming to life as Haven crouches beside me, her eyes locked onto the monitor, hands moving across my desk like she owns the space.
She’s focused, completely in her element, walking me through setup like she’s done this a hundred times before, which, let’s be real, she probably has.
I lean back against my chair, watching as she clicks through settings, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, brows furrowed in deep concentration.
Then she grins. That beautiful full, bright, fucking adorable grin as she glances up at me. “Oh, this is gonna be so good,” she says, practically vibrating with excitement as she pulls back from the desk. “You don’t even know, Carter. When I get back home? We’re about to be unstoppable.”
I blink, my chest tightening just slightly at the way she says it. I swallow, forcing a smile to cover up whatever the fuck is brewing in my chest. “Yeah?” I ask, my voice teasing. “You think I’ll be able to keep up with you?”
She snorts, pushing against my shoulder. “Not a chance.”
I laugh, shaking my head as I watch her sit back, her eyes gleaming over my setup, her excitement still in the air between us.
And I realize I like this. I like her here, in my space. Talking about a future that includes me in it. Even if it’s just as a gaming partner.
She’s still talking about the game, still lost in whatever strategy she’s already forming in her head, still acting like last night was just some fever dream we all woke up from.
Maybe for her, it was. Maybe she’s already compartmentalized it, shoved it into some box in her mind labeled “Fun, Hot, Insane Night—But Nothing More.”
I can’t do that. I can’t sit here, watching her light up about playing together when she gets home, knowing I might just be her gaming partner after this.
Because I want more, more than last night. More than a screen between us. More than just being the safe option next to my reckless, chaotic brother.
I clear my throat, shifting in my chair, watching the way she spins my mouse between her fingers, completely unaware of the storm building in my chest. “Haven.”
She glances at me, still half-distracted. “Yeah?”
I hesitate. Because what the fuck am I even asking for? A label? No. That’s not me. Some kind of commitment? Way too fucking soon. But something real, something that tells me she’s not just gonna walk out of here and forget about this. Forget about me. I exhale. “Is this… more for you?”
She stills. Her fingers go slack against the mouse, her lips parting slightly, her eyes flicking to mine like she wasn’t expecting the question. Fuck, I wasn’t either.
She hesitates, her fingers twitching slightly where they rest on her lap, and I know whatever she’s about to say is something she’s been holding onto for a long time. I brace myself.
She exhales. “I’ve been burnt before, Carter.”
My stomach tightens, my fingers flexing against my knee, yeah, I fucking know. I know about the ex. The guy she was dating right when I first started talking to her, the one who treated her like she was something to be handled rather than fucking cherished. I never pried, never asked more than she was willing to share, but I caught every single piece she did give me. And I hated him.
Her eyes fall down for a second before she meets mine again, something cautious but sure sitting there. “I hate labels.”
I nod once, silent, letting her say what she needs to say.
“I don’t like putting things into little boxes and giving them a name just because that’s what people expect.” She exhales slowly. “But…” She pauses, like she’s trying to find the right words, like she’s trying to make sure I hear her exactly the way she means it. She looks at me, and my chest fucking caves. “I can’t imagine a better person to be in my life the way you are.”
My throat goes tight. I try to swallow past the lump building in my chest, but it’s useless.
She’s saying everything I didn’t even realize I needed to hear.
Her voice drops softer, more certain. “You mean more to me than just some gaming partner, Carter.”
Her fingers press into my comforter, gripping it like she’s grounding herself. “And you always have.”
That’s the moment I know. Whatever the fuck this is, whatever we’re becoming I don’t want to let it go. I need a second to process it. To breathe, to figure out what to say next. To absolutely not fuck this up.
Tate’s voice breaks my thoughts. “Alright, lovebirds. Break it up.”
I close my eyes, inhaling sharply through my nose, already regretting every decision that’s led to me sharing a fucking house with him.
Haven lets out a small laugh, shaking her head as Tate leans against my doorway, arms crossed.
“You really have the worst fucking timing,” I mutter, shooting him a glare.
“I have perfect timing,” he corrects, pushing off the doorframe, strolling into my room like he owns the place. His eyes dart to my desk. “Just came to check on the PC. Looks like we’re making progress.”
I rub a hand down my face, forcing myself to cool the fuck down, because if I don’t, I might actually strangle him.
Tate’s attention shifts to Haven, his smirk widening. “By the way, pretty I hope you know you just burned my entire fucking stream to the ground.”
Haven’s brows shoot up. “Oh?”
“Oh.” Tate nods, crossing his arms again. “Chat’s still losing their shit. People are placing fucking bets on how long you’ll be sticking around.”
I clench my jaw. “Funny.”
Tate grins, clearly enjoying this way too much. “Guess we’ll see if they’re right.”
Haven tilts her head, eyes narrowing just slightly, like she’s deciding whether or not to throw something back at him. I just exhale hard, gripping the edge of my desk, trying to remember that I’m supposed to be the level-headed one.