When I walk back into the living room, Tate’s sitting on the couch with his phone held far away, his mask pushed up on his head like a headband, and the worst scowl I’ve ever seen etched into his face.
He doesn’t say anything, just taps something aggressively.
Carter trails behind me snorting. “What happened now?”
Tate growls. “Pick me girls. Pick mestreamergirls. My entire inbox is thirst traps and fucking ‘I’d treat you better’ DMs.”
I blink. “From the clip?”
He turns his phone around. “From the fuckinghand photo.”
“Okay, but youdidpost it.”
“I didn’t think they’d lose their shit over myhand.”
Carter’s leaning over the back of the couch now, glancing at the screen. “That one says she’d sit on your fingers like a throne.”
“I SAW IT.”
I drop onto the couch beside him and steal his phone before he even realizes. “Let me.”
“Don’t respond to—”
“I’m not gonna respond.” I grin, opening my own social tab. “I’m going to simply remind them.”
Carter whistles low. “Oh, shit.”
I scroll through his camera roll, past screenshots, clips, a few blurry selfies he took of the three of us in bed, half-naked and laughing. And then I find it.
Tate’s in a white t-shirt, sprawled out across my floor with me in his lap, both of us flushed from streaming, our hair messy, and his mask on but tugged just enough to show the curve of his smirk.
I send it to myself and start typing out a post. I crop the picture just right, add a little saturation, and hit post.@HavokHeartsmine.[photo] I tag him @nooneghost.
Carter cackles.
“Oh, you’re welcome,” I say sweetly, setting his phone back in his lap but within seconds it starts vibrating.
“Congrats,” Carter chuckles, walking to the fridge. “You just broke the internet again.”
Tate leans back and drags me into his lap. “You know that means I’m getting you back for this, right?”
“Looking forward to it.”
Carter pops the fridge open. “If you’re gonna do it on camera, warn me.”
26
Tate
Iwake up before the others, again.
It’s dark outside but I can feel the tension in my shoulders even before I sit up. Carter’s snoring softly, sprawled out on the air mattress at the foot of Haven’s bed. “Hey.” I nudge him with my foot. “Out.”
He groans. “What?”
“I want you out, get up.”
He blinks at me blearily, then glances at Haven still fast asleep in the bed, curled up under the covers in one of his shirts. He sighs. “God you’re such a dick sometimes.”
