I exhale sharply, hands curling into fists at my sides. “Facts of what exactly huh?”

Tate shrugs, unbothered as ever. “That she might like me better.” The words hit their mark. Right between the ribs, where the doubt already lingers, where the thought has already twisted itself into something dark and festering. Because that’s what Tate does. He finds the cracks and splits them wide open. I roll my shoulders, forcing my voice to stay even. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

Tate shrugs, bored, calculated. “Tell me, what am I doing, Carter?”

I take another step closer, leaning in slightly, my voice dropping into something razor-sharp. “You want her to see you, but only on your terms. You like control, right? Keeping yourself in the dark, keeping her guessing. You don’t want her to meet you. You want her to chase you, just like in her streams.”

Tate doesn’t move, but I see it, the smallest flicker of something behind his eyes. A hit, but not a deep one. Not enough to stop him. I lean back, shaking my head. “Too bad she’s not the type.”

Tate hums, slow and considering. “We’ll see.”

I exhale hard through my nose, forcing myself to back off. Forcing myself to stop letting him get to me. I know how this goes. He pokes. I react. He waits for an opening, and when he gets one he takes the whole goddamn game.

Not this time. Not with Haven. I move toward the stairs, letting this go, for now. Because she’s waiting for me tonight. Tate can sit in the dark all he wants.

I take the stairs two at a time, my pulse still running too hot, too sharp, the weight of the conversation with him coiling tight in my chest even as I try to push it down, shove it into the same corner of my mind where all the other unresolved bullshit between us lives.

It doesn’t work. Because the second I step into my room, shutting the door behind me, the silence that follows is loud, pressing, impossible to ignore.

I exhale slowly, dragging a hand through my hair, my reflection catching in the mirror across the room. I look… tense. Like I just walked away from a fight instead of a conversation I already knew was coming, one I should have been more prepared for, one I should have had the second I knew Haven was coming here.

I stare at myself for a long second, then shove the thought away, moving toward my dresser, pulling open the top drawer.