Chapter 17 — Lena #2
“Showing up even when the fun version isn’t enough,” he said.
Paige’s expression softened before she could hide it.
“Okay,” Paige said finally. “That was annoyingly good.”
Carter smiled faintly. “I meant it.”
“I know. That’s the annoying part.”
Lena looked down at her textbook because staring at Carter felt dangerous.
With Paige across from him and snacks on the desk and the rest of campus outside the door.
And God help her, she liked him so much.
Eventually, Paige stood with the bag of sour candy.
“I’m going to the lounge.”
Lena looked up sharply. “Why?”
A very loud look.
“To give you two privacy while remaining close enough to intervene if hockey boy becomes stupid.”
Carter nodded. “Reasonable.”
“Don’t agree too fast.”
“Sorry.”
Paige pointed at him. “Rules.”
Carter sat straighter. “Ready.”
“No funny business.”
“Define funny.”
“Carter,” Lena said.
He pressed his lips together.
Paige’s eyes narrowed. “I mean it.”
“So do I,” Carter said, and this time his voice was gentle. Serious. “You don’t have to worry.”
She turned to Lena. “Text if you need me.”
Paige left, pulling the door mostly closed but not all the way.
Carter Hayes was sitting on Lena’s bed, holding a bag of chips, looking around her room like he was trying to memorize every detail without seeming obvious about it.
The framed photo of Lena and Paige at orientation.
That was the problem.
Carter looked back at her. “Your room feels like you.”
She leaned against her desk. “Organized and mildly intimidating?”
“Warm,” he said.
“And organized,” he added, mouth curving. “But in a way that says someone cares about where things belong.”
She did not know what to do with that.
So she picked up a pen.
“Are you analyzing my room?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I like learning you.”
There was no defense against that.
Not a single one.
Carter set the chips aside. “Too much?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“New?”
“Yes.”
He smiled faintly. “New good?”
The door was cracked. Paige was somewhere in the lounge. Campus noise hummed faintly beyond the window.
Still, Lena felt the intimacy of the room wrap around them.
Not coming closer yet.
Just standing.
“I like Paige,” he said.
“She likes you.”
“Does she?”
“She left us alone.”
“With the door cracked and threats.”
“That’s practically a blessing.”
Gradually.
Like warmth spreading beneath a closed door.
“You okay?” he asked.
Always space.
“Can I kiss you in your room,” he asked quietly, “or does that make things too complicated?”
That scared her.
She was getting used to wanting him and being scared at the same time.
“No,” she said softly.
Carter froze.
Lena’s eyes widened. “I mean no, it doesn’t make things too complicated.”
His shoulders dropped, and he laughed once, breathless. “Brooks, you almost ended my life.”
“Sorry.”
“Healthy communication includes sentence clarity.”
She laughed then too, nerves spilling out.
“Yes,” she said, stepping closer. “You can kiss me.”
Her back touched the desk, and Carter pulled away just enough to look at her.
“Still okay?”
She nodded, breath uneven. “Yes.”
His eyes darkened, but his voice stayed soft. “Words, Lena.”
Not implied.
Hers.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Still okay.”
“Careful.”
“I am.”
“You are absolutely not.”
“I thought you liked risk.”
Carter’s eyes widened slightly, like he hadn’t planned to say it.
But her throat tightened because suddenly the room felt too quiet and the words felt too important.
Carter saw the hesitation and immediately softened.
“Too fast?” he whispered.
He waited.
She swallowed.
“I like you too.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She laughed softly. “That’s all?”
“I’m trying not to yell.”
“Please don’t. Paige will come back.”
“I am very aware of the cracked door.”
The moment went tender so quickly it made her ache.
“I like you,” he said again, quieter. Like he was trying the words and finding they fit.
Lena smiled, her hands still linked behind his neck.
“I heard.”
“Just making sure.”
“I like you too.”
Better.
Everything.
When the kiss ended, Carter stepped back first, breathing carefully.
He looked toward the cracked door, then down at himself, then at Lena.
“I should probably sit over there,” he said, pointing vaguely toward the chair near her desk, “before Paige senses disrespect through the walls.”
Lena laughed. “Probably.”
He sank into the chair like a man making a noble sacrifice.
“This room is dangerous.”
“You brought snacks. You were warned.”
“I thought the danger was Paige.”
“She is part of the ecosystem.”
Carter smiled, then picked up her textbook from the desk. “Were you actually studying before I came?”
He opened the book and scanned a paragraph. “This sentence is so boring it should be illegal.”
She stared. “You want to help me study nonprofit management?”
“I want to sit in your room longer and be useful enough that Paige doesn’t evict me.”
Lena pulled her chair closer and sat beside him.
For the next forty minutes, Carter quizzed her using chapter review questions and added commentary that would get him banned from most academic departments.
“Board governance,” he read, “involves establishing accountability structures and ensuring—wow, this is where joy goes to die.”
“Keep reading.”
“Ensuring mission alignment. Okay, that part sounds like you.”
“Mission alignment?”
“Yes. You align missions aggressively.”
“That sounds like a compliment delivered by someone confused.”
He continued reading, occasionally mispronouncing terms on purpose until she smacked his arm with a highlighter.
At some point, Paige returned for more candy, paused at the doorway, saw them genuinely studying with Carter sitting in the chair and Lena beside him, and gave Carter a nod so approving it looked painful.
Carter sat up straighter. “Did I pass?”
“For now,” Paige said.
Lena laughed so hard she had to cover her mouth.
Carter looked pleased.
“What?” she asked.
“Your laugh.”
“What about it?”
“I like earning it.”
Her smile softened.
“Dangerous words,” she said.
He leaned closer. “I learned from you.”
Just because she wanted to.
It was quick. Sweet. Almost shy.
When she pulled back, Carter looked stunned again.
She was starting to like that look very much.
“I’m going to start saying nice things constantly if that’s the reward,” he said.
“Then it stops working.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“You’re right. It doesn’t.”
By the time Carter finally left, it was after ten.
Paige had fully accepted the emergency cookies and declared them “adequate,” which Carter correctly understood as a major victory.
At the door, he looked down at Lena.
Neither moved.
“We are still bad at goodbyes,” he said.
Lena glanced toward the lounge, where Paige was loudly pretending not to listen.
Then he touched Lena’s hand lightly.
“Can I kiss you goodnight, or should I preserve my roommate approval rating?”
Carter’s hand brushed her waist for half a second before he pulled back.
His eyes stayed on hers.
“I like you,” he said quietly.
A smile tugged at her mouth.
“I like you too.”
Happy.
She wanted to keep that look.
“Text me when you’re back?” she asked.
“And tell your dad I’m glad he’s home.”
“I will.”
“And tell your mom not to let him reorganize the garage.”
He laughed. “I’ll try.”
“Carter.”
He took one backward step, then another. “Goodnight, Brooks.”
She watched him walk down the hall.
Then Paige appeared beside her, chewing a cookie.
“He’s annoying,” Paige said.
Lena leaned against the doorframe. “You like him.”
“I like the snacks.”
“And him.”
Paige sighed dramatically. “Fine. I like him.”
Lena smiled.
“But,” Paige added, pointing the cookie at her, “if he hurts you, I’ll make Mason help me bury him emotionally.”
“I’m not going to prison for hockey boy.”
“Reasonable.”
Paige studied her. “You okay?”
Lena looked down the empty hallway where Carter had disappeared.
Her heart felt too full.
Her fear was still there, but it had stopped shouting.
“My okay,” she said softly.
Paige smiled. “Good.”
Later, after Paige fell asleep and the room went quiet, Lena lay in bed with her phone glowing in her hand.
Carter: Back. Dad says thank you. Mom says garage intervention successful. Paige snack diplomacy went better than expected.
Carter: She said adequate cookies. I assumed that meant she accepted me into the outer circle.
Carter: Good. I like being in your life. Even the intimidating roommate parts.
Lena: I like you being in my life too.
She set the phone down and looked toward the window, where campus lights glowed faintly through the blinds.
Like letting Carter into it had not taken anything away.
Like maybe the right person entering your life did not make you smaller or less careful or less yourself.
Maybe it made the room wider.
Maybe it made room for laughter and emergency cookies and a boy sitting in a desk chair, quizzing her on nonprofit governance because he wanted to stay and wanted to be useful and wanted her roommate to trust him.
Maybe love started as liking someone enough to let them sit in your space without needing to perform.
No.
Not love.
Not yet.
But the thought did not scare her as much as it should have.
And that, Lena realized as she closed her eyes, might have been the riskiest development of all.