Cassie huffs out a laugh. “Which means she was panicking too hard about even coming here to think about leaving.”

Haven glares at her. “Cass.”

“What? It’s true.” Cassie gestures vaguely between us. “You’ve been talking about this guy for months—”

Haven slaps a hand over her mouth before she can finish, her face flushing instantly. Cassie laughs into her palm.

I can’t help the slow, smug grin that pulls at my lips. “You’ve been talking about me for months?” I ask, tilting my head, watching as Haven fights for composure, her hand still clamped over Cassie’s mouth like she can physically erase the moment.

“I will end you,” she mutters at Cassie before finally dropping her hand.

Cassie wipes at her mouth dramatically before shrugging. “I mean, it’s not a lie.”

Haven mutters something under her breath and turns back to the books, clearly avoiding my gaze now. I bite back a laugh, deciding not to push it. Instead, I let my attention drift back to the more pressing issue at hand, the fact that Haven still doesn’t know how long she’s staying.

Not knowing sits weird in my chest, a slow, creeping discomfort I wasn’t expecting.

I hadn’t considered the possibility that she might just, leave. That she’d drive all this way just to turn around and head home before I even get the chance to figure out what this actually is between us. It’s irrational, maybe. But still. I clear my throat, keeping my tone casual. “Well, if you do decide to stay, I can show you more than just a haunted thrift shop.”

Haven finally looks up at me again, something unreadable in her expression. “Yeah?” she says, voice softer this time.

I nod. “Yeah.” And for some reason, that feels more like a challenge than an invitation.

7

Haven

The drive back to the Airbnb is quick, quiet, and entirely too comfortable.

Carter doesn’t fill the silence with meaningless chatter like I half expect him to. Instead, he just lets it exist, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the gear shift, fingers tapping out a rhythm against the leather. The low sound of my music fills the space between us. It’s… nice. Which is exactly why I have to pull myself back down to earth the second we reach the Airbnb.

Carter puts the car in park, glancing over at me as Cassie unbuckles her seatbelt in the back. “I’ll pick you guys up in a couple of hours,” he says, draping his arm over the back of his seat as he twists slightly toward me. “Figured I’d take you somewhere cool for dinner.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Cool how?”

His mouth quirks like he’s keeping a secret. “You’ll see.” Cassie butts in her with questioning. “Is it, like, a small-town diner or a full-on themed spot?”