27. Haven
27
Haven
C arter’s focused on his screen, adjusting settings, setting up his camera, getting everything just right.
I’m sprawled out on his bed, sinking into his pillows, taking in everything around me that I wasn’t able to see when we went to bed. His room isn’t what I expected. Not that I knew what to expect exactly, but still there’s something about it that just fits.
Clean, but lived-in. Posters of old games and a couple of movie prints tacked to the walls, a well-loved hoodie tossed over the back of his desk chair, a pair of dumbbells tucked in the corner that I know he actually uses. It’s warm. Comfortable. Just… Carter. And God, I like being in it.
I turn onto my side, resting my cheek against one of his pillows, inhaling the faint scent of detergent and something unmistakably him.
Carter glances at me, one brow raised as he flips his headset in his hands. “Getting comfortable?”
I smirk, stretching my arms over my head. “Maybe.”
He rolls his eyes, but there’s a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
“Better watch out,” I tease, my voice lazy. “Might just take over this bed.”
Carter lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing.”
The way he says it soft, barely-there, like maybe he wasn’t even supposed to say it out loud makes my stomach flip. I roll onto my stomach, letting out a deep breath, stretching my arms across Carter’s bed before lazily reaching for my phone. It lights up the second I tap the screen, and… shit. Cassie.
Cassie : Babe .
Cassie : WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST WATCH???
Cassie : YOU WERE ON NoOneGhost’s STREAM??
I blink, and type back quickly.
Me : Oh. Yeah. That.
Three dots. She’s waiting, she wants more but always lets me explain things first. I chew my lip, knowing exactly what’s about to happen when I do.
Me: Okay so. Uh. Funny thing…Carter
Cassie : YES ??
I groan.
Me : Right. So. Turns out… NoOneGhost is his twin.
Cassie : EXCUSE ME????
Cassie : YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THE ASSHOLE YOU HATE AND THE SWEET BOY YOU’VE BEEN OBSESSED WITH FOR A YEAR ARE. THE. SAME. DNA.
I let out a laugh, shaking my head.
Me : Yep .
Cassie : I AM LOSING MY SHIT.
Cassie : WHAT WAS THAT DYNAMIC ON STREAM THEN??? OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD.
I glance over at Carter, who’s still completely focused on his PC, unaware that Cassie is currently having a full meltdown on my phone. Yeah, this is gonna take some explaining. Cassie’s typing, and typing and typing. My screen flashes again.
Cassie : Haven. Haven. HAVEN. HOW DID YOU NOT TELL ME THIS THE SECOND YOU FOUND OUT.
I groan, burying my face into Carter’s pillow. I should’ve known she’d react like this. Before I can type back, another message hits.
Cassie : You’re telling me the one who lives to torment you, the one you literally call Satan Online? is your gamer boyfriend’s TWIN???
I roll onto my back, exhaling sharply.
Me : First of all, Carter’s not my gamer boyfriend.
Cassie : I’m gonna ignore that blatant lie, because you’re clearly delusional.
I grumble under my breath, my fingers hovering over my phone, trying to figure out how to downplay this before she keeps spiraling. But no, she’s already gone.
Cassie : DO THEY EVEN LOOK ALIKE??
I hesitate, glancing at Carter out of the corner of my eye. His jawline. The soft curve of his mouth, the warmth behind his eyes, the way he carries himself like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. And then, in my mind, I see Tate.
The way his body moves, controlled and cocky, the sharpness in his gaze, the smirk that never quite disappears, even when he’s serious. Same face. Same DNA. Entirely different energy.
Me : You wouldn’t even think they’re related unless you really looked.
Cassie is typing. Cassie is typing for way too long. I brace myself.
Cassie : Are you fucking them both.
I choke on my own spit.
Me : CASSIE, WHAT THE FUCK.
Cassie : BABE YOU CAN’T DROP INFO LIKE THIS AND EXPECT ME NOT TO ASK.
I swear to God, I’m going to strangle her. I am seconds away from launching my phone across the room. Cassie is still typing because of course she is, but before I can suffer through whatever unhinged response she’s cooking up next, Carter’s voice cuts through my spiraling. “Haven.”
I jolt slightly, turning my head to see him watching me from his desk, brows slightly furrowed. “Huh?” I blink, trying to shove Cassie’s last message from my brain.
Carter nods toward his monitor. “I need help with my camera settings.”
Oh, thank fuck. I lock my phone, shoving it under one of his pillows before pushing up onto my elbows. “Yeah, what’s wrong?”
He sits back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest as he gestures toward the screen. “It looks kinda grainy. I don’t know if it’s the resolution or the lighting or what, but—”
I slide off the bed before he can finish, already moving toward him, relieved to have a distraction that isn’t Cassie screaming in all caps about my sex life. “Lemme see.” I lean in, scanning the settings on his screen, my shoulder brushing against his arm, and I don’t miss the way he tenses slightly at the contact. He’s still thinking about everything we talked about before Tate barged in.
Honestly, so am I. I adjust a few settings, tilting Carter’s camera slightly, fixing the lighting until his face isn’t half in shadow. “There,” I say, stepping back slightly. “You should be good now.”
Carter leans forward, testing the feed, shifting slightly in his chair, and then nods in approval. “Looks better.” He glances up at me. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
I linger for a second, watching the way his fingers move over the mouse, clicking through different settings, his jaw tight with focus.
My phone buzzes again from where I shoved it under his pillow. Shit, I hesitate before pulling it out, and sure enough Cassie is still going.
Cassie : OKAY BUT LISTEN.
Cassie : IF YOU WERE TO FUCK THEM BOTH
I slap my hand over my mouth, choking on air.
Carter looks up immediately, brows furrowing. “You good?”
“Yep.” I clear my throat, forcing my expression into something neutral. “Totally fine.”
Carter narrows his eyes, like he doesn’t quite believe me, but instead of pushing, he exhales and leans back in his chair. “What do you want for dinner?”
The question pulls me back to reality, grounding me in the fact that I am still here, in his house, trying to ignore the fact that my best friend is actively losing her mind over my entire existence.
I shove my phone back into my lap, pretending I didn’t just read what I did. “I don’t know. What are my options?”
Carter smirks slightly. “Anything but diner food.”
“Fair.”
Carter’s watching me, waiting for an answer about dinner, but I don’t want to talk about food. I want to remind him why he wants me here.
Why he’s looking at me like that. Why he’s fallen for me in the first place. So I don’t say anything. I just grab his hoodie, pull him toward me, and press my lips against his. He lets out a quiet sound, somewhere between surprise and need but he doesn’t hesitate.
His hands are on me instantly, gripping my waist, sliding up my back, holding me against him like I might disappear if he doesn’t. I kiss him slowly, deeply, pouring every ounce of certainty I have into it. Because I might not have all the answers about what we are or where this is going.
But I know this. I know him. I shift slightly, fingers threading through the soft strands of his hair, feeling the way he melts under my touch. And then a sound from down the hall. Loud and definitely aggravated.
“CHAT, SHUT THE FUCK UP.”
I freeze, lips still against Carter’s, before breaking into laughter against his mouth.
Carter groans, dropping his forehead to my shoulder. “I fucking hate him.”
I just grin, tilting his chin back up, pressing another soft kiss to his lips. “No, you don’t.”
Carter doesn’t let me go right away. Even after Tate’s ridiculous outburst from down the hall, even after my laughter fades into the quiet hum of the room, even after I pull back just enough to see his face. He just stays there, holding me, looking at me like he’s memorizing something, like he’s afraid I’ll slip away if he lets me go. And then he kisses me again. Slower this time. Softer. Like he’s saying everything he doesn’t know how to put into words.
I melt into it, letting my fingers tangle in his hair, taking my time, drawing it out, savoring every second. Because God, I like kissing him. I could do this all night.
My stomach on the other hand has plans. A quiet grumble breaks through the moment, and Carter pulls back just enough to smirk. “Guess that means we should figure out dinner, huh?”
I groan, burying my face against his shoulder. He chuckles, pressing one last kiss to my temple before pulling away completely. “Come on, let’s go downstairs. We’ll find something.”
Turns out, Carter can cook. Like, actually cook. I watch in mild shock as he moves through the kitchen like he’s done this a thousand times before, grabbing ingredients, chopping vegetables, searing chicken in a pan with an ease that almost feels unfair. “You didn’t tell me you were secretly a chef.”
He snorts. “I’m not. I just grew up cooking because someone had to.”
I tilt my head. “And Tate didn’t pull his weight?”
“Tate burns cereal.”
“Why am I not surprised.”
A voice cuts in from the doorway. “I heard that, fucker.”
I turn to see Tate strolling into the kitchen, looking mildly offended, like he just woke up from a nap he definitely didn’t take.
He eyes the pan Carter’s working over, nodding slightly. “What are we making?”
Carter gives him a look. “We?”
Tate grins. “Yeah, we.”
I shake my head, sitting at the counter, watching the two of them fall into an effortless rhythm of bickering while Carter actually makes dinner and Tate pretends to help.
Honestly It’s kind of perfect. Just a quiet night, a home-cooked meal, and a moment where for once I don’t feel like I’m caught between them. I just feel like I’m here.