And I realize, suddenly, brutally, that this isn’t about Tate. This isn’t about the lie, about what he kept from me, about the months of silence, about the fact that he let me walk into this without telling me. This is about us. How much I mean to him, this is the look of someone who thinks he just lost the one thing he wanted more than anything.

I feel it, too. The sharp, twisting weight in my chest, the deep pull low in my stomach, the kind of realization that sneaks up on you, that rearranges everything you thought you knew, that shifts the foundation you didn’t even realize was unsteady. This thing between us, it was never just friendship, was it?

Not for him. And, if I’m really being honest with myself? Not for me either. I exhale slowly, dragging my nails over my jeans, forcing myself to move, to breathe, to do something before Carter talks himself into thinking I’m done with him. I shift, leaning forward, pressing my knee against his, my voice softer now, gentler, because this isn’t something I can joke my way out of, because he needs to hear it for real. “Carter, you’re an idiot,” I murmur.

His head lifts just slightly, just enough for me to see the flicker of hesitation in his eyes, the way his brows pinch like he’s afraid to hope.

I shake my head, “I mean, seriously.” I huff out a breath, letting out a small, incredulous laugh, because I can’t believe I have to spell it out for him. “You really think I’d let this change how I feel about you?”

His throat bobs, his fingers twitch, but he doesn’t answer. He’s waiting, because he needs me to say it. I move closer, let my voice drop lower, let the words come out slower, steadier, no hesitation, no hiding, no pretending I don’t know what this is anymore. “You think I don’t know how crazy you are about me?”

Carter inhales sharply. His body goes completely still, like he wasn’t expecting me to say it. I hold his gaze, like I just completely ruined whatever fragile control he had left.

Maybe it’s not the ideal timing but fuck, I like it. I like knowing this isn’t just in my head, that I wasn’t imagining the way he looks at me, the way he’s looked at me since the moment I got here, the way he’s looking at me now, like I’m the most important thing in the goddamn world to him. I wet my lips, my voice barely above a whisper now. “You think I don’t feel the same?”

Carter blinks, exhales hard, his entire body tensing like he’s two seconds away from closing the space between us, from saying something that neither of us can take back.