28. Carter
28
Carter
T he living room is quiet, except for the low noise of the tv and the occasional clatter of silverware against plates. Haven is curled up at the end of the couch, balancing her plate on her lap, her bare feet tucked under her, looking so fucking comfortable here it makes something pulls in my chest.
Tate is sprawled in the armchair, legs kicked up on the coffee table, eating like he hasn’t had a real meal in days.
I’m somewhere in between. Between watching Haven out of the corner of my eye. Between pretending like I’m paying attention to the show she picked, and trying not to think about last night. Between trying not to think about how badly I want her again.A knock on the door pulls me out of thoughts.
I freeze mid-bite, exchanging a glance with Tate, whose brows tilt up in slight interest. Haven stops chewing, tilting her head. “You expecting someone?” she asks.
I swallow, setting my plate down. “No.”
Tate shrugs, clearly unbothered. “Guess you better find out who it is then.” I roll my eyes but push off the couch, making my way toward the door. The second I pull it open, I immediately regret it. Standing on my porch is Hunter. The last person I need showing up right now.
“Dude,” he grins, clapping a hand on my shoulder before I can say a word. “You’re alive.”
I blink. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Hunter leans casually against the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest. “Came to check on you. You’ve been MIA all wee—.” His eyes wander past me, catching movement inside, and then he grins wider. “Oh, Ruth shit my bad.”
I turn, just in time to see Haven step into the hallway, plate still in her hand, curiosity in her eyes.
“Oh,” he says again, this time with way too much fucking meaning.
I exhale through my nose, already bracing for whatever the fuck is about to happen, before stepping aside and gesturing Hunter in. “Yeah, yeah, come in.”
Hunter grins, stepping past me and immediately locking eyes with Haven.
“So this is the famous Haven?” He gives a slow nod, eyes glancing between us, the knowing grin on his face making me want to shove him right back out the door. “Damn, dude. I get it now.”
Haven tilts her head slightly, offering a small smile. “And you’re Hunter?”
“In the flesh.” He extends a hand, and Haven shakes it, looking mildly amused at the way he’s openly sizing me up, like he’s assessing just how far gone I am for her. Before I can even attempt to steer the conversation into neutral territory, a snicker comes from the living room. Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“Oh, look,” Tate says, dragging out the words as he leans back into the couch, arms stretched across the top like he’s the king of the fucking castle. “It’s the local golden retriever handler, coming to check in. How precious.”
Hunter’s smile drops instantly. “Oh, great. The asshole brother is still an asshole.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, here we fucking go. Hunter and Tate never got along. Not since high school. Not since Tate got it in his head that Hunter was some obnoxious, too-good-to-be-true, moral compass type, and Hunter decided that Tate was a complete fucking menace to society. Neither of them has ever made an effort to prove the other wrong. Now, I get to deal with this bullshit under the same roof. Haven glances between them, lifting her brows, clearly sensing the shift in the air. “So, you two are… friends?”
Hunter lets out an actual laugh. “Nah, not even a little.”
Tate flashes a wicked grin. “You wound me, Hunty.”
Hunter ignores him completely, looking back at me. “I swear, I don’t know how you’ve lived with this dude for twenty-four years without committing a felony.”
“It’s a mystery,” I mutter, already exhausted.
Haven bites her lip like she’s trying not to laugh. This is about to be a long fucking night.
Hunter doesn’t need an invitation to make himself comfortable. The second he’s inside, he’s dropping down onto the couch, stretching his arms over the back, one leg kicking up onto the coffee table. He leans his head back against the cushion, glancing over at me with an easy smirk. “So, did you get that new PC set up, or am I about to be disappointed in you?”
I exhale, rubbing a hand over my jaw, throwing him a look. “Yeah, it’s set up.”
Hunter grins, nodding approvingly. “Finally. I was starting to think you just liked watching Haven play instead of actually gaming yourself.”
Before I can fire back, his eyes fall on the small shelf by the window. His grin sharpens instantly. “Oh, man. Haven, you’ve gotta see this.” His fingers close around the frame, plucking it off the shelf
The pit forms in my stomach before I even follow his line of sight. My stomach sinks. “Don’t.”
Too late, he’s already holding it up like evidence. An old photo of me and Tate probably around eighteen, both of us standing next to my rusted-out first car, flipping off the camera with matching scowls. Tate’s hair was longer then, still dark and messy, his lip split from a fight the night before. I look stupid enough to believe I could fix everything if I just tried hard enough.
“This is peak twin energy,” Hunter announces. “Yin and Yang. Emo menace and boy-next-door.”
Haven’s trying not to laugh, but her smile’s already breaking through.
I scrub a hand over my face. “You’re never coming over again.”
Hunter just winks. “Please, you love me.”
Tate, from the armchair, doesn’t even glance up. “That’s debatable.”
I make a mental note to burn that photo. But when Haven tucks it back onto the shelf herself, her fingers linger just a little too long against the glass, her eyes softening in a way that twists something low in my chest.
Hunter claps his hands once, sharp and loud, shattering the silence. “Alright, show me this new rig. I need to see if you’ve finally joined the 21st century.”
Haven catches my eyes, her grin small but real. I realize maybe I don’t hate that photo so much after all.
Tate, meanwhile, lets out a huff of amusement, pushing off the chair with a slow stretch, like he’s already decided this conversation isn’t worth his time.
“Well, this has been fun, but I’ve got better things to do,” he says, already heading for the stairs, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck like the last ten minutes exhausted him. “Try not to get too sappy down here.”
Hunter snorts. “Bye, asshole.”
Tate just lifts a hand in a lazy mock wave before disappearing up the stairs, his heavy footsteps fading as he shuts himself in his room, leaving just the three of us in the living room.
I don’t miss the way Haven’s shoulders relax just slightly, like she wasn’t fully aware she’d been holding any tension at all until now. Balancing the empty plates in her hands as she stands, heading toward the kitchen, muttering something under her breath that I don’t catch. I watch her for a second, something warm curling low in my stomach as she makes her way around my space like she’s meant to be here. Like she’s always been here. Like she’s part of this.
Hunter nudges my arm, voice low. “Dude.”
I roll my eyes, pushing off the couch to follow Haven up the stairs, ignoring the way Hunter chuckles behind me like he already knows exactly how deep I’m in this. I push open the door to my room, stepping aside to let Hunter in first, trying to ignore the fact that Haven is right behind him, her presence threading into the space like she already belongs in it.
Hunter lets out a low whistle, stepping further inside, his sharp eyes scanning every inch of my PC setup, his fingers already reaching for the keyboard like he’s about to run some kind of quality test. “Damn,” he mutters, clicking through a few settings, watching the RGB lights shift colors beneath his touch. “Alright, I’ll admit it. This is sick.”
I cross my arms, leaning back against my desk, watching him try to act like he isn’t impressed. “Yeah, well, had a good teacher.”
Haven lets out a quiet laugh, tucking her legs beneath her as she settles on my bed, watching Hunter mess with my setup like he has any right.
Hunter grins, throwing me a look. “So, what’s next? You hopping on Haven’s next stream? Making your grand debut?”
I snort, shaking my head. “I’m not exactly a ‘grand debut’ kind of guy.”
Hunter tilts his head. “Nah, but she is.” I feel Haven’s eyes shift to me, but I keep mine locked on the monitor. Because yeah, she is. She’s been doing this for years, comfortable in front of a camera, comfortable in a space that’s public, where people can watch her every move. Me? Not so much.
Hunter must sense the shift in the air because he steps back from my desk, claps a hand against my shoulder, and smirks. “Well, that’s my cue to head out. You two have fun with your little—” he gestures vaguely “—whatever this is.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s a PC setup, dude.”
“Mmmhmm.” He throws Haven a smirk before heading for the door, pausing just long enough to throw me one last knowing look over his shoulder. “Don’t be a dumbass, Carter.”
The door clicks shut behind him, leaving just me and Haven in the quiet. I run a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly, the weight of everything pressing in again.
Haven leans back on her elbows, stretching slightly, her voice light when she speaks. “Well, that was fun.”
I huff a breath, shaking my head. “If you say so.”
And because this night clearly refuses to be normal, Tate’s voice rings out from down the hall, loud enough to shake the fucking walls.
“I SWEAR TO FUCK, CHAT, IF YOU KEEP PAIRING ME WITH HER, I’M ENDING STREAM.”
Haven freezes. I blink. And then, we both break. Haven snorts first, then covers her mouth, her whole body shaking with laughter. I rub a hand over my face, groaning before completely losing it too. What the fuck else is there to do? This is just life now, I just hope nothing changes.