I don’t know what happens first, the sharp exhale that turns into a full-body shake of my head, or the short, incredulous laugh that slips out before I can stop it. This is fucking ridiculous.

Carter’s brows pull together, his expression tightening like I just did something completely unexpected. “What—”

I hold up a hand, laughing harder now, because fuck, this whole thing is just so dumb. “Okay,” I breathe, swiping a hand over my face, finally locking eyes with him again. “Let me get this straight. You thought that if I knew Tate was your twin, I’d… what? Start associating you with him? Like I’d lump you both into the same category and suddenly hate you, too?”

Carter doesn’t say anything, but his lack of denial tells me everything.

I snort, shaking my head again, still laughing because holy shit. I lean forward, nudging his knee with mine, needing him to actually hear me now, needing him to stop sitting there like I just ripped the floor out from under him. “Carter,” I say, voice softer now. “You and Tate are nothing alike.”

I sigh, settling back against the couch, still trying to wrap my own head around everything but knowing one thing for sure.

“I mean, yeah, this whole thing is insane,” I admit, waving a hand in the air. “Like, actually, what-the-fuck level ridiculous. But you? I would never—” I shake my head, locking eyes with him again so he knows I mean it. “I would never put you in the same category as him.”

This should be the part where he finally exhales, where he finally stops looking like he’s standing on the edge of a goddamn cliff.

Carter shakes his head, lets out a breath, and mutter. “Maybe you coming here was a mistake Haven, I’m sorry.”

I freeze, what the hell? My stomach twists, my breath catching in my throat, my entire body going still as his words sink in.

Carter won’t look at me now. His hands are on his knees, his head tilted down slightly, his chest rising slowly, like he’s forcing himself to breathe evenly. He looks like he’s actually scared, Not nervous or uncomfortable, scared. I feel it before I even fully understand it.

Carter isn’t saying this because he wants me to leave. He’s saying this because he’s afraid that if I stay, he’s going to ruin everything between us. That pisses me off.

His hands are braced against his knees, his head tipped forward just slightly, like he’s waiting for me to stand up and walk out the door, like he’s already convinced himself that’s what’s going to happen next.