“She’s safer with us than anyone else,” Tate snaps. “But we’ve gotta stop acting like we’re in different fucking corners.”
That shuts me up, he’s right. We’ve been moving around each other at times like this is still a game sometimes like she’s the prize and we’re trying not to bleed for her at the same time. But she’s not a prize, she’s the fucking point. I take a breath. “Okay. Truce?”
He eyes me for a moment. “Temporary.”
I grin. “I’ll take it.”
Tate smirks, pushing off the counter. “Still not cuddling you, though.”
“You say that now.”
He grabs his cup and heads for the hallway. “Don’t hold your breathsweetheart.” Throwing a grin over his shoulder before disappearing through the bathroom door.
The sound of footsteps pulls me out of my thoughts. Haven wanders in, drowning in one of my hoodies and her hair sticking out everywhere. I can’t help grinning, she has no idea how good she looks like this.
“Morning, baby, or technically afternoon,” pouring the last of the coffee into her favorite cup, sliding it toward.
She takes it without hesitation, fingers wrapping around it. One sip, then those sleepy eyes land on me. “You’re lucky I like you.”
“So I’ve heard.”
She glances toward the couch where Tate’s laid out one arm flung over his face. He’snota living room person. That’s a documented fact, I know Haven finds it hilarious when he tries hiding in the bathroom.
She stretches and groans softly, setting her cup down. “We should do something today.”
I blink. “Like what?”
“I don’t know… something outside of this apartment. Something normal.” She lifts her arms in an exaggerated yawn,“I need fresh air and overpriced snacks that aren’t delivered in a greasy paper bag.”
“So… mall food court?”
She scrunches her nose. “Close. Her eyes light up a little. “Wanna go to a movie?”
“A movie?” I echo. “Like a real one? With sticky floors and mystery soda spills?”
“Yes.”
I pretend to consider it, tapping my chin. “Only if we get popcorn. And I get to pick the candy.”
“You’reasugarfiend,” she laughs, but there’s a softness in her tone, I know she’s picturing it.
Tate groans, dragging his hand down his face. “Did I hear popcorn and pain in the ass?”
Haven smiles, unapologetic. “We’re going out.”
Tate cracks one eye open. “To where, hell?”
She throws a pillow at him. “Movie.”
He groans again, but it’s more dramatic than real.
“You can pick the seats if you get up in the next five minutes,” she teases.
His eyes narrow. “You drive a hard bargain, pretty girl.”
They always fall into that easy rhythm, her teasing him and him firing right back, like they’ve been doing it their whole lives. I shouldn’t care. I know she doesn’t like him more, doesn’t like me less. But still, there’s this stupid twinge that hits every time she laughs at something he says. With me, it’s different, softer. She teases, sure, but she handles me like I might break if she pushes too hard. Tate gets her sharp edges. I get her warmth. And God, I know I should be grateful for that but sometimes, watching them trade smirks, it stings a little more than I want to admit. I clear my throat. “You know she’s gonna sit between us anyway.”
Haven rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “Well duh.”
