Carter stills. His fingers tighten slightly around the menu, his jaw clenching just the smallest bit like he’s trying to rein in his reaction. His eyes light up. “Yes.”

It’s instant. Immediate. Zero hesitation. Like he was just waiting for me to ask. Like he was already dreading saying goodbye before I even brought it up.

I bite my lip, hiding a smile. “That fast, huh?”

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head as he tosses the menu onto the table. “You think I’d turn that down?” His voice is low, warm, threaded with something deeper. “You could’ve told me you were staying a week and I still would’ve said yes.”

And god, the way he says it like he actually means it, like he wouldn’t mind keeping me here a little longer, like he’d rather not let me go at all sends a slow, heated ache curling through my chest.

Lunch wraps up with easy conversation, stolen glances, and the unspoken weight of knowing I just bought myself one more day with Carter. One more day to figure out why this feels different. One more day to ignore the way last night keeps creeping into my thoughts.

Carter pays the check before I can even pretend to argue, and we slide back into his car, the drive to the Airbnb quieter, heavier somehow.

Or maybe that’s just me. Maybe that’s just my own head replaying last night in loops I can’t stop. By the time we pull up, I barely remember the drive.

I move on autopilot, grabbing the bag I never even touched, shoving it into my car, letting the owner know I’m leaving early.

I follow Carter back to his house. Back to where I woke up this morning wrapped in his arms. Back to where his brother’s hands were on me last night.

I grip the steering wheel tighter, my pulse kicking up the longer I drive, the longer my thoughts spiral, the longer I let myself sink back into the things I shouldn’t be thinking about.

The way Carter kissed me like I was something to be worshiped. The way Tate took me like I was something to be claimed. The way I let both of them have me. The way I fucking liked it. I swallow hard, forcing my eyes back to the road, to the car in front of me, to the boy who is still trying to figure out what the hell this is between us. I don’t have a fucking clue either.

I pull into Carter’s driveway, parking right behind him, the engine still humming under my hands as I watch him step out of his car.