I pinch the bridge of my nose, here we fucking go. Hunter and Tate never got along. Not since high school. Not since Tate got it in his head that Hunter was some obnoxious, too-good-to-be-true, moral compass type, and Hunter decided that Tate was a complete fucking menace to society. Neither of them has ever made an effort to prove the other wrong. Now, I get to deal with this bullshit under the same roof. Haven glances between them, lifting her brows, clearly sensing the shift in the air. “So, you two are… friends?”

Hunter lets out an actual laugh. “Nah, not even a little.”

Tate flashes a wicked grin. “You wound me, Hunty.”

Hunter ignores him completely, looking back at me. “I swear, I don’t know how you’ve lived with this dude for twenty-four years without committing a felony.”

“It’s a mystery,” I mutter, already exhausted.

Haven bites her lip like she’s trying not to laugh. This is about to be a long fucking night.

Hunter doesn’t need an invitation to make himself comfortable. The second he’s inside, he’s dropping down onto the couch, stretching his arms over the back, one leg kicking up onto the coffee table. He leans his head back against the cushion, glancing over at me with an easy smirk. “So, did you get that new PC set up, or am I about to be disappointed in you?”

I exhale, rubbing a hand over my jaw, throwing him a look. “Yeah, it’s set up.”

Hunter grins, nodding approvingly. “Finally. I was starting to think you just liked watching Haven play instead of actually gaming yourself.”

Before I can fire back, his eyes fall on the small shelf by the window. His grin sharpens instantly. “Oh, man. Haven, you’ve gotta see this.” His fingers close around the frame, plucking it off the shelf

The pit forms in my stomach before I even follow his line of sight. My stomach sinks. “Don’t.”

Too late, he’s already holding it up like evidence. An old photo of me and Tate probably around eighteen, both of us standing next to my rusted-out first car, flipping off the camera with matching scowls. Tate’s hair was longer then, still dark and messy, his lip split from a fight the night before. I look stupid enough to believe I could fix everything if I just tried hard enough.

“This is peak twin energy,” Hunter announces. “Yin and Yang. Emo menace and boy-next-door.”

Haven’s trying not to laugh, but her smile’s already breaking through.

I scrub a hand over my face. “You’re never coming over again.”

Hunter just winks. “Please, you love me.”

Tate, from the armchair, doesn’t even glance up. “That’s debatable.”