My stomach twists but not in a bad way. Just… anticipation.

I finish up, towel off, and head back to my room, pulling on soft pajama shorts and a tank top. My hair is wrapped in a towel, and I grab my favorite cinnamon chai scented lotion, slathering it over my legs as I settle onto my bed. The weight of the weekend finally drags at me.

Tomorrow, I’ll start packing. Tomorrow, I’ll overthink. For now I need rest. I pull the blankets over my shoulders, burrow deep into my pillows, and let my eyes drift shut.

2

Carter

I step out onto the narrow balcony just off my bedroom, the early air still cool enough to raise goosebumps across my arms. It’s quiet out here but my brain’s already loud and running a million miles a minute.

I lean into the railing, stretch until my spine cracks, and pull my phone from the hoodie pocket like I haven’t already checked it a dozen times this morning. Haven’s text from last night is still open on the screen.

After months of watching her stream, of laughing over inside jokes no one else would get, of letting her absolutely destroy me in chat while I pretended not to be grinning like an idiot, she’s actually coming here. In real life, to see me.

I scrub a hand through my hair, trying to temper the giddy flutter in my chest, but it’s useless. She’s not just some crush anymore. She’s her. All fire and heart and chaos in a headset.

For some wild and crazy reason, she’s agreeing to drive fifty miles just to be in my orbit.

I open our texts again, thumbs hovering over the keyboard.

We’ve always been easy, flirty and effortless. She makes it feel like I don’t have to try too hard to be funny, or cool, or whatever the hell guys are supposed to be when they like someone.

With Haven, I can just be. And I think that’s why this feels like such a big deal, because it’s not nerves I’m feeling. I’ve been waiting for this moment longer than I want to admit.

So I type out a message. Something stupid that might make her laugh before she even gets out of bed.

Me: Morning, sweetheart. What’s the ETA on your arrival? I need time to warn the town about the hurricane that is Haven.

It takes her a few minutes to respond. Probably still asleep. Or ignoring my texts a little on purpose to get a rise out of me. Honestly, I love when she does it.

She always knows how to keep me guessing—knows exactly when to go quiet, when to flirt, when to come in with something that makes my stomach flip or my brain melt.