Tate tugs me closer. “So, you ready to be ruined all over again?”
34
Tate
People are continuing to spiral in the gamer community. They’re stuck between praising Haven and slut-shaming her. Some of them think she cheated to get to the top. Some are convinced she’s secretly married to Carter and that I’m just a sexy masked intruder. One guy made a whole thread analyzing our posture in side-by-side photos like he’s on a fucking CSI deep dive.
I’ve had enough, so I open Twitter and stare at the blinking line for exactly five seconds.
Haven is curled up on the bed beside me with her legs tucked under her, and I can’t help but glance at her for a second before typing. Her chest rises and falls slow and steady, the kind of sleep that looks impossible after the day she’s had.
My thumb brushes the screen as I post. She’s asleep, and for one tiny moment, the world can burn around us and it wouldn’t matter.
Carter wanders out of the hotel bathroom with wet hair and a fresh hoodie. “You had to post something again huh something,” he says flatly.
“Yup.”
His phone suddenly starts pinging wildly. “Well now someone just tagged us in an edit where I’m hugging her while you stand in the background.” He groans as he flops down next to me. “We need a PR team.”
“Youarethe PR team.”
We’ve been sitting in the hotel room for over an hour, killing time while Haven finishes whatever she’s wrapped up in. Empty chip bags, sticky soda cans, and wrappers are scattered across the floor. Carter’s on the end of the bed with his phone in hand, scrolling lazily. I’m on the floor, leaning against the bed, absently picking at a bag of chips. “Your phone’s going off like crazy,” I say, nodding toward him.
He groans. “I know, it’s Hunter. Asking when I’ll be back, he’s sent ten messages in the last five minutes.”
“Ten? The dude doesn’t know how to survive without you.”
“He’d probably starve if I left for a month,” he says, shaking his head.
“I mean, that’s friendship, right?” I say, tossing him a chip. “Loyalty, dedication… mild obsession.”
He catches it without looking, muttering, “Mild obsession is putting it lightly.”
Haven steps inside a moment later, her posture just slightly off, like she’s holding it together out of habit more than energy. Her makeup is still intact, but there’s something underneath itnow—fatigue, maybe, or just too many people pulling at her at once.
Carter is on his feet before I move, crossing the room reaching for her. “Hey,” he says softly, his hands settling on her arms. “You good?”
She nods automatically, then shakes her head right after. “I don’t know. They kept asking the same questions. Just… different versions of them.”
I push off the floor slowly. “What kind of questions?”
“About you. Both of you. About us.”
Of course they did.
Carter’s thumb brushes over her arm. “You don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to.”
“I know,” she says. “I just… didn’t expect it to feel like that.”
“Like what?” I press.
She exhales slowly, dropping her head forward until it rests briefly against Carter’s shoulder. “Like I don’t get to just have this, like it has to belong to everyone else too.”
“It doesn’t. They don’t get that part, that’s ours.”
Her eyes lift to mine. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
