I have no fucking clue what to do next. His arms stay locked around me, the weight of him pressing me down, his grip firm, like he already knows I’d bolt if given the chance. His chat? Still a fucking dumpster fire.

I feel Tate smirk against my shoulder, completely unfazed, soaking up every second of the chaos he’s just created. Then he leans forward, toward his mic, voice dropping just enough to send the chat into another goddamn meltdown. “If I knew this would break the internet,” he muses lazily, fingers toying with the hem of my hoodie, “I would’ve dragged her into my lap a long time ago.”

I shift slightly, trying to untangle myself from his grip, but Tate only tightens his hold, fingers flexing against my hips like he’s making a goddamn statement.

Then, he exhales sharply, his head tipping slightly to glance toward the door, that knowing smirk never leaving his lips. He knows this moment isn’t going to last much longer. Carter’s down the hall. Carter probably saw the clip already. Carter is definitely about to come looking for me. And so, just like that, Tate moves. With one swift motion, he reaches for his keyboard, clicks a single key, and his screen instantly fades to black. Stream: OFFLINE.

I stare at the monitor, then whip my head back toward him. “You just ended it?”

Tate grins, leaning back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head like he didn’t just obliterate the internet with a single move. “Yep.”

I blink. “Why?”

His eyes gleam with something wicked, something smug, something entirely too self-satisfied. “Because,” he says smoothly, “I don’t need an audience for what happens next.” And before I can even process that, a sound from the hall.

30

Carter

Tate’s door is cracked, light still glowing from his monitor, but his stream? Off. Which means he knew I was coming. Which means he knew exactly what he was doing. And when I push the door open, I find exactly what I fucking expected. Sitting back in his chair, looking smug as ever. Haven in his lap.

I exhale sharply, crossing my arms, tilting my head. “Man,” I say, shaking my head, letting the tension roll off me, “you really just can’t help yourself, huh?”

Haven’s head whips toward me, her eyes wide like she’s bracing for me to be pissed, however the second she sees my face, she falters. Because I’m not. Not at her, never at her. Tate, though? Yeah, he can catch this smoke. I rub the back of my neck, stepping further inside, lips twitching into a grin.

“I mean, I knew you were a little obsessed with me, but this?” I nod toward Haven, who is still frozen, still trying to figure out what the fuck is happening. “Now you’re just stealing my girl?”