Cassie and I settle into the small living room of the Airbnb, the couch surprisingly comfortable, the lighting dim and warm. The place feels quiet, the kind of silence that leaves too much space for my thoughts to start circling, catching on every little thing I’m trying not to focus on. Like the fact that Carter is picking us up soon. That I just spent the past hour trying not to stare at him in the car, not to read into his every glance, every smirk. The fact that this feels different now.

“Stop thinking so hard,” Cassie mutters, stretching out across the couch, her phone in her hand. “I can hear the gears turning from over here.”

“I’m not thinking,” I lie.

She laughs. “Right. And I’m a nun.”
I sigh, dropping back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. “It’s just weird, okay? Meeting him. Being here. The whole thing.”

Cassie hums like she already knew that, she probably did. She doesn’t push, though, just flips through something on her phone, scrolling lazily before typing out a quick message.

I glance over, narrowing my eyes. “Who are you texting?”

She doesn’t look up. “A friend.”

I wait. She keeps typing. She eventually locks her phone and stretches. “Told them to pick me up later.”

The words hit me like a slow-moving train. I blink, “You… what?”

Cassie glances at me, unbothered. “Yeah. Figured I’d head out later tonight. You don’t need me here anymore.”

My stomach tightens. “What if I do?” I blurt.

Cassie arches an eyebrow. “Do you?”

I open my mouth, close it. I don’t know, I don’t have an answer that makes sense. I’m not nervous about being alone with Carter. I’m not nervous about spending more time with him.

But the thought of Cassie leaving, of it just being the two of us, of every buffer between us suddenly disappearing?

Cassie sees it all over my face. “Haven,” she sighs, soft but firm. “It’s not like I’m dropping you into enemy territory. You like him. Just… let yourself enjoy this.”

I don’t say anything. I don’t trust myself not to make it worse. Instead, I just stare at the ceiling, my heartbeat a little too loud, my thoughts a little too tangled, waiting for Carter to show up and break the silence before it swallows me whole.

8

Carter

By the time I pull into the driveway, the sun has cast the house in that deep orange glow that makes everything look quieter than it really is. But nothing about this feels quiet. Not the way my grip tightens around the steering wheel, not the way my heartbeat hammers against my ribs.

I cut the engine, exhale slowly, try to shake off the tension curling through my shoulders. But it’s no use, the second I push the front door open, Tate is there. Waiting.