Carter: Sleep well Haven.

It’s so casual, but it still makes my stomach dip in a way I can never ignore.

I shake my head and force myself to focus on the dishes. I finish in the kitchen, wipe down the counters, and move to the disaster zone that is my bedroom. The worst of the mess is my bedside table, which is currently covered in empty snack wrappers, a half-drunk iced coffee from two days ago, and a tangle of charging cables that may or may not be a fire hazard.

I grab the iced coffee and sip. Regret, instant regret.

I gag, racing to the sink to spit it out. The taste is somewhere between expired milk and disappointment. “Holy fuck,” I mutter, soul leaving my body. “That was a near-death experience.”

New plan, no more iced coffee hoarding. I spend another half-hour cleaning, tossing my laundry into a basket I’ll definitely forget about tomorrow, and finally flop onto my bed with a dramatic sigh.

Okay. Decisions.

Carter’s invite shouldn’t make me this nervous, fifty miles isn’t far. Barely an hour’s drive, and it’s not like he’s a total stranger. I know his messages, his timing, the way he types when he’s excited versus the way he lingers when something’s wrong. I know the way he listens, really listens. He’s been around long enough that a visit shouldn’t feel like such a leap. But it does.

Maybe because it’s not just some casual meetup. Not to me. This isn’t a hey, we should hang sometime. It’s a line drawn between the safety of a screen and the messy, terrifying intimacy of real life. And the second I cross it, I can’t go back. I stare at his message longer than I should. My thumb hovers. My stomach flips.

Me: Okay. Let’s do it! I’ll come visit :)

Before I can second-guess myself, I hit send. The reply comes almost immediately.

Carter: You just made my night :)

It’s too easy to picture him smiling when he typed that. I lock my phone and toss it onto my nightstand, pushing down the weird, fluttery feeling in my stomach. Instead of over analyzing, I roll my shoulders and force myself into self-care mode.

After an entire weekend of gaming chaos, my body feels like it’s been fused to my desk chair, and my skin is in desperate need of moisture. I strip off my worn-out sweatpants and oversized hoodie, shuffling toward the bathroom.

I crank the water too hot and step under the spray, sighing as the heat melts away the stiffness in my muscles. Steam curls around me as I shampoo away the regrets of my life choices, my mind still drifting back to Carter. The fact that he’s wanted to meet me for months, and I’m finally saying yes.