Page 14 of No Save Point

Cassie waves a hand. “You’re not out of the woods yet.”

Carter looks at me almost amused, and I fight the urge to melt into the ground. I should have warned him. Should have given him a heads-up that Cassie was coming, that he wasn’t just meeting me tonight, but also my best friend who now has front-row seats to my first in-person interaction with him.

“Well,” Carter finally says, adjusting, recovering far better than I am. “Guess we’re making this a group thing, then.”

I clear my throat. “Yeah, uh… that okay?” He shrugs, easy. “Of course.”

Cassie smirks. “Smooth.”

Carter just shakes his head, shooting me a quick glance. “You guys eaten yet?”

I think about the sad granola bar I had on the way here. “Not really.”

“Well,” he says, pulling out his keys, “there’s that coffee shop not far from here. I’ll drive, you can save your gas.”

Cassie raises an eyebrow at me like this is some kind of test. I ignore her, nodding toward Carter. “Yeah, okay. Sounds good.”

He gestures toward his car, stepping ahead to open the passenger door for me, and I catch a glimpse of the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. I don’t know what’s supposed to happen tonight. But I do know one thing, Carter is just as easy to be around in person as he was behind a screen. That might be the most dangerous thing of all. He wasn’t lying the coffee shop is close, barely a five-minute drive from the Airbnb. It’s small, warm and inviting, with wood-paneled walls, string lights hanging across the ceiling, and the smell of fresh espresso weaving through the air.

Carter walks in and I can’t help but wonder how many times he’s been in this exact spot, waiting on coffee, talking to people who know him in ways I don’t. It’s a weird thought, and I don’t like it. I shake it off as we get in line, my fingers tapping an aimless rhythm against my thigh as I glance up at the menu.

Cassie doesn’t even pretend to consider her options. “Havie, get something other than an iced white chocolate mocha for once in your life.”

I scowl. “Excuse you, that’s a classic.”

“You’re predictable.”

“I’m consistent.”

Cassie snorts. “Tell that to the barista who already looks like she’s memorizing your order.”

I glare at her, but Carter cuts in smoothly, his voice laced with teasing. “What, you mean she gets the same thing every time? I never would’ve guessed.”

I elbow him lightly, ignoring the way his grin does something stupid to my insides. The line moves quickly, and soon enough, we’re rattling off our orders, Cassie gets some elaborate syrup-filled monstrosity, I get my perfectly respectable iced white chocolate mocha, and Carter unsurprisingly, gets black coffee.

“Jesus,” Cassie mutters when he says it. “Are you okay?”

Carter grins. “What, too boring for you?”

Cassie tilts her head. “I mean, it’s kind of a serial killer vibes order, but hey, you do you.”

I groan, grabbing my drink and heading for an open table before Cassie can say anything else embarrassing.

We settle into a corner table, the occasional hiss of steaming milk filling the space between conversations from other tables. I’m just about to take a sip of my drink, trying to mentally prepare for normal small talk, when Cassie leans forward, locking eyes with Carter like she’s about to conduct a goddamn investigation.

“So.”

Carter lifts a brow, not remotely fazed. “So?”

Cassie rests her elbows on the table, fingers laced together like a lawyer about to cross-examine a witness. Horror curls up my spine. I know that look. I shoot her a warning glance, yet she ignores me. “You and Haven have been talking for, what? A year?”

Carter nods, blowing on his coffee. “Just about.”

Cassie hums slowly, like she’s filing that information away for later. “And in all that time, you never thought to send her a picture of yourself?”

I groan. “Cass—”

Carter’s mouth quirks in amusement. “I figured she’d see me eventually, I’m not really the picture taking type.”

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