Page 94 of Next Level Up
I reach over, squeeze her knee. “You’re still you. That part didn’t change with that I said this morning.”
She looks at me, something softer settling in her expression. “You make it feel like it didn’t.”
“Because it didn’t.”
She studies me for a second, then leans over and presses a quick kiss to my shoulder before settling back into her seat. “Where are we going again?”
I shrug. “Just a little place I found online. Gamer gear, streamer stuff. Thought it might help clear your head.”
Her smile softens, lips curving gently as she tilts her head toward me. “You’re dangerously close to perfect, you know that?”
I grin. “That’s because you haven’t seen me try to parallel park yet.”
The store’s tucked between a vape shop and a thrift bookstore, easy to miss if you’re not looking for it. Inside, it’s dim and neon-lit, packed with everything from custom keyboards to LED panels, mic arms, mouse pads the size of literal yoga mats.
Haven lights up the second we walk in. “Okay, wait—this is dangerous,” she says, drifting away from me.
I watch her go for a second before following, letting her take the lead. “Budget,” I call after her.
“No promises.”
I trail her through the aisles, hands in my pockets, not really looking at anything except her. The way she moves from one thing to the next, the way her fingers brush over everything like she needs to feel it to understand it.
She stops at a wall of keyboards, pressing a few keys, listening. “Oh my god, listen to this one.”
She hits the same key again, glancing back at me like I’m supposed to get it immediately.
I step closer, leaning in just enough. “I don’t hear a difference.”
She gasps, actually offended. “Carter.”
“What?”
“That is a huge difference.”
I glance at the keyboard, then back at her. “Sounds like a button.”
She turns fully toward me, gearing up to argue. “You don’t deserve nice things.”
I grin before I can stop it. “Good thing I have you.”
She tries not to smile. “Okay, try this one,” she says, grabbing my wrist and pulling me in without thinking about it. My attention drops to her hand for a second, then back to her as she presses my finger down on another key.
I blink. “…Okay, yeah. That one’s aggressive.”
“Exactly.” She nods, satisfied. “That’s a crime.”
We move on, but she doesn’t let go right away. Just keeps hold of my hand like it’s the most normal thing in the world while she drags me to the next display. At some point she lets go, distracted by something else. She’s comparing mouse weights now, one in each hand, brows pulled together like this is serious. “This one feels better,” she says.
I glance between them. “Because it’s pink.”
“It’s lavender,” she corrects.
“Right. Completely different.”
She bumps her shoulder into mine, not even looking at me when she does it. “You’re annoying.”
“You like me.”
