Page 27 of Next Level Up
Carter presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Anytime, baby. Always.”
I close my eyes and let his heartbeat pull me under.
9
Tate
Iwake up to the sound of soft laughter, which is unacceptable this early even if it does come from the mouth I’d do anything for. And to.
They’re in the kitchen clattering dishes. The couch creaks under me as I sit up, my spine aching like I lost a fight in my sleep. Probably did. I shove the blanket off and blink against the light leaking in through her too-cheerful living room windows.
Carter’s voice floats across the room. “—need more cinnamon in the batter.”
“It doesn’t need anything, it’s perfect.”
I groan into the nearest couch cushion. Of course he’s in there helping her make breakfast.
I need caffeine before I witness any more of this. Dragging myself off the couch I run a hand through my hair, rub the sleep from my face, and walk into the kitchen.
Haven’s in one of Carter’s hoodies. I just memorize the way the fabric bunches at her thighs while I file away the exact color so I can make sure the next one she wears is mine.
Carter’s at the stove, flipping pancakes. He looks up and grins at me like it’s a normal morning. “Morning,” he says, cheery as hell.
I raise a brow. “Did I fall into the twilight zone?”
Haven laughs and hands me a cup. “Drink this before you insult my aesthetic.”
I take it. Sip. Immediately forgive the world. “Thanks.”
She perches on the counter, swinging her legs. Which is a problem, I’m not sure how long I can play nice before I remind her just how much darker things get when it’s my turn.
We’re supposed to be chill. That’s the vibe or whatever Carter said when we packed up our gear and drove the fifty damn miles to her place just to hang out, to be normal, to see her.
But watching Haven in that hoodie has already thrown off my ability to behave. I take my cup back into the living room, setting it down on the coffee table.
The curtain rod near her couch is loose and has been driving me insane since I went to bed. I don’t say anything while I find the screws in her junk drawer and tighten the brackets. When she walks in, blinking at the now straight curtain, I just shrug.
She smiles. “Thank you.” She glances toward the hallway. “You guys can set up in my room for now. Just until I clear some space in the living room.”
“Your room?”
“Temporary, the recliner’s open. Carter can take the bed.”
The hallway feels too narrow as we follow her. Her room now smells a little like Carter. His jacket is slung across the back of her chair. One of his books is half-open on the nightstand.
Carter sits on the edge of her bed as I drop into the recliner.
She stands in the doorway, watching us both for a second longer than necessary. “I’ll give you guys a minute,” she says softly, and disappears down the hall.
I crack my knuckles, sitting back to refresh my Twitch dashboard.
The door creaks and Haven slips back into the room and makes a beeline for her desk. Legs folded beneath her as she drops into her chair and adjusts her headset. I can see the way her lips twitch before she even speaks.
She taps a few keys and her stream lights kick on. The glow hits her just right, painting her in soft gold and shadows. My chest tightens.
She leans forward to her chat feed. “Okay, yes, yes, I see the messages. Carter’s here, you don’t have to spam me, I swear.”
[Chat Log]
