“You wound me.”
Carter reaches up to squeeze my thigh under the desk.
BREAK
By the time we break for a snack, I had fallen asleep on my bed. Half an hour passes before I’m awake, lying across the bed in just Carter’s T-shirt beside him. His hoodie is balled beneath my head like a pillow, when the notification pops up on my phone.
TOURNAMENT UPDATE: Final Showdown Arena Confirmed
It’s one of those moments where the air shifts before your brain can catch up. I open the email and my heart stutters.Live Finals. Five days. In-person, full bracket, full media coverage. Streaming booths. Press interviews. VIP access. Fan exposure.
My chest tightens. Wait, live? No screen to hide behind or comfy room with soft lighting and one of the boys nearby to balance me. Just me and my name with the entire fucking internet watching.
“What’s that face?” Carter’s voice is sleepy, but his instincts are sharp. He pushes up from the bed, propping himself on one elbow as I try to school my expression into something that won’t send him into soft protector mode.
He takes the phone from my hand. His eyebrows lift. “Oh.”
I nod, lips pressed together, trying to keep it cool. “Yep. Finals, they’re doing them live. Surprise to us I guess.”
I push myself off the bed, suddenly too warm and restless, pacing the room in search of something to do. My phone ends up on the dresser. My fingers tug at the hem of Carter’s shirt. I can’t breathe. “I’m not ready for this.”
He’s off the bed before I even finish the sentence. He crosses the room calmly but his eyes are locked on mine like he’s reading the panic simmering just beneath the surface. He steps behind me and wraps his arms around my waist before he quickly presses a kiss to my temple. “Yes, you are.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
I suck in a breath. “Carter—”
“You’ve been running circles around the entire bracket,” he says, pulling me back gently until I’m leaning into him, my back flush with his chest. “You’ve carried more than half your matches. You’ve done it with us, andwithoutus. This? It’s just a new room sweetheart.”
“It’s a room with cameras and fans. And Dylan, fuck and probably assholes just waiting to say I didn’t earn my spot because I’ve got tits and a twitch following.”
He exhales slowly. I feel the rise and fall of his chest against my back. “They’re going to say that no matter what you do, so make them eat it.”
I blink. “What?”
He grins against my cheek. “Wreck their favorites. Win the whole damn thing while you look right into the camera and smile like the problem you are.”
I huff out a shaky laugh.
“And if that doesn’t work,” he adds, “I’ll buy one of those absurd ‘GAMER GIRL’ tank tops and scream from the front row.”
That gets a laugh, a real one.
He squeezes my waist. “You’re going to crush it. But even if you didn’t, if you lose first round or if your mic cuts out, hell even if your entire setup explodes I’ll still be proud of you.”
I twist in his arms and look up at him. “Why are you like this?”
“Because I lo-like you a lot Haven, and you deserve everything.”
The room spins. I’m about to say something when a notification buzzes from my phone across the room.
And then another and another.
Carter lifts a brow. “Think your boy’s about to go apeshit?”
I nod. “Definitely.”
