I smile as Carter crouches in front of me, and presses a kiss to my cheek and then my forehead.
“You okay here today?”
“I’ll be good,” I whisper back, fingers curling in the front of his hoodie. “I’m doing the grand tour with Cassie. I might even vacuum.”
His eyes narrow, skeptical. “Do you even know where the vacuum is yet?”
“Nope,” I grin.
He groans and cups my face one more time, his thumb brushing under my bottom lip. “You’re making it really hard to leave.”
“That’s because weshouldn’tleave.” Tate calls from downstairs as he stands near the front door.
I push to my feet, and follow Carter downstairs. I turn to Tate and yank him down by the front of his hoodie, dragging his mouth to mine.
“Go to work,” I tell them gently. “Be productive.”
Tate grumbles something about capitalism and soul-stealing schedules. Carter lingers a second longer, then finally follows, whispering, “Love you Hav” just before the door clicks shut behind them.
The doorbell rings about 10 minutes after they leave.
I open the door and Cassie pulls me into a hug. “House tour, bitch,” she says after letting go, “And don’t half-ass it. I want secrets. I want details.”
I laugh so hard I nearly spill the smoothie I’ve been stress-sipping and step back to let her in.
She steps inside and it doesn’t feel weird. It doesn’t feel like I’m bringing someone into someone else’s house. It feels like I’m welcoming her intomine.
“Okay wait, first things first. I dumped James.” She says it like it’s a victory, but her nose crinkles just a little. “He was… weird. Too much ‘I’m mysterious’ and not enough actual personality.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Yeah, mysterious is one thing. Creepy is another, I thought he seemed okay though?”
“Exactly what I thought too! And don’t even get me started on his… let’s call it ‘equipment.’” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Tiny.”
“Gross. But also, not surprising… but hey Carter has a best friend.” I shrug casually. “You might even like him, could be fun if you ever meet him.”
“Oh? Should I be worried about bestie competition?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Nah, he’s more of a… reliable distraction. Not weird, not tiny, not James-level nightmare.”
She snorts, spinning back toward the couch. “Good to know. I’ll file that under ‘potential hookups to consider.’”
“I’m not sure that one’s not exactly normal either. But he’s solid according to Carter.”
She laughs again, letting her bag fall to the floor. “Okay, I trust your judgment. “Okay,” she says, scanning the front hall. “Start talking. Where do they keep the snacks? Where do they keep their shame? Do you have a shared calendar or is it just feral chaos?”
“Mostly feral chaos, but I bought a whiteboard last night. It has color-coded magnets.”
She stares at me. “You domestic little bitch.”
I drag her into the kitchen first, pointing out the spice rack Tate reorganized “for optimal seasoning rage,” the three different types of milk in the fridge, and the weird snack drawer Carter made called the goblins stash. It’s mostly fruit snacks and protein bars and a terrifying amount of jerky.
“You know what this means, right?” Cassie says, leaning against the counter.
“What?”
“You’re a throuple now. With a goblin stash.”
“Oh my God—”
