I don’t want that. I don’t want her to just be a voice in my headset, a name in my chat, a presence that exists in pixels and messages and missed calls. I want her. Here. With me. “Tell me you’ll come back,” I say, my fingers pressing slightly deeper against her back, needing the reassurance, needing something solid to hold onto. “Tell me this wasn’t just—” I pause, shaking my head, forcing myself to breathe before meeting her gaze again. “Tell me this isn’t just a one-time thing.”

Haven’s eyes soften, something warm, something certain settling in them, and when she speaks, her voice is quiet but unwavering. “I’ll come back.”

I stare at her, my breathing just slightly uneven, my pulse pushing too hard against my skin as her words settle in, as her fingers trace light patterns along the back of my neck, grounding me and undoing me at the same time. The weight in my chest hasn’t lifted, not fully, but something about the way she says it, like it’s a fact, not a maybe, keeps me from spiraling further.

Then, she tilts her head, a small, teasing smile playing at her lips, her gaze bounces between my eyes, my mouth, like she’s completely aware of the effect she’s having on me. “Carter, you’re literally fifty miles away,” she says, amusement laced through her tone, her fingers still absently toying with the hair at the nape of my neck. “Do you really think I’ll be able to stay gone for long?”

Her words, the way she says them so easily, like it’s not a question, like it’s not even a possibility that she wouldn’t come back, like being apart is actually what sounds ridiculous to her. She’s sitting in my lap, warm and solid and real, her voice threading through my system, every little movement she makes sending a slow-building ache through my body, every shift of her weight pressing her closer, the soft drag of her fingertips against my skin. I grit my teeth, swallowing against the heat creeping up my throat, my hands flexing where they rest against her waist, feeling the slow pull of gravity trying to drag me deeper into her, deeper into this fucking feeling that’s threatening to swallow me whole. She has no idea what she’s doing to me right now. Or maybe… fuck, she definitely does.

Her smile turns just slightly softer, her weight settling more fully against me, her touch dragging lower, and I feel my control slipping, fraying at the edges, the lines between tension and something hungrier blurring so fast it makes my head spin. I move beneath her, trying to focus, trying to breathe through it, but she’s already leaning in, her breath warm against my cheek, her voice a quiet tease.

“What’s wrong, Carter?”