Page 34 of No Save Point

“Carter,” I murmur, just as soft.

His hand snaps up, grabs mine, his fingers curling tight around my wrist, like he’s holding on for dear life, like he’s trying to anchor himself before he drowns completely. His chest rises too fast, too hard, his body trembling, voice barely above a whisper, words barely holding together— “I don’t know how to do this Haven, any of this.”

I blink. I wasn’t expecting that. Of all the things he could have said, of all the ways he could have reacted, all the possible explanations for why he’s been sitting here acting like I’m about to detonate in front of him, that was not what I thought he was going to say. His grip on my wrist is tight, his fingers curled around my skin like he’s afraid I’ll pull away, like he needs me to stay right here, but at the same time, his entire body is practically vibrating with tension, like he’s waiting for something to go wrong.

I stare at him, my mind trying to catch up, trying to process what he just admitted.

He doesn’t know how to do this? Not because he’s nervous. Not because he’s worried about ruining our friendship. But because… holy fuck, is Carter a virgin?

The way he’s looking at me right now, barely keeping it together. I exhale, slow, deliberate, grounding myself, keeping my voice soft when I finally respond. “You’ve never—”

Carter’s jaw flexes, his chest rising sharply, his fingers twitching around my wrist. Before I can even finish the sentence, he closes his eyes, exhales hard, and nods once. The confirmation hits me straight in the chest. Carter is twenty-four, drop-dead gorgeous, stupidly charming, the kind of guy who could have had anyone if he wanted. But he hasn’t, he’s been waiting. For what? For who? For something real? For something right? For someone who actually matters? My pulse pounds, my breath catching in my throat, my mind racing because I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do with this information. But what I do know? I don’t want him to regret telling me. I don’t want him to think for a second that this changes anything.

And I definitely don’t want him to think I don’t want him just because he’s never done this before. I tilt my head, watching the way his lashes flutter, the way he’s still gripping my wrist like I might bolt now that I know the truth. Keeping my voice soft, steady, letting the words sink in before he has the chance to panic, “That just makes me want you more.”

His eyes snap open his breath completely fucking stalling, and I watch the exact moment his world tilts off its axis.

16

Carter

Oh, fuck. Did I just… did I seriously just admit that to her?

The realization hits like a slow-motion catastrophe unfolding in my brain, every single alarm going off at once, my entire system screaming at me that I should have kept my mouth shut. This is not how I thought tonight would go, not how I pictured meeting Haven for the first time in person, not how I expected to be sitting here, watching her watching me, her fingers still resting on my wrist, her eyes still locked onto mine like she’s trying to figure out what the hell to do with me now that she knows.

She moves, not pulling back. Her hand slides up my arm, like she’s exploring, like she’s testing the way my body reacts to hers, mapping out the shape of me like she has every right to. I let her, I can’t stop myself. Because I want this… God, I want this, I want her, and I don’t know how to handle the fact that she’s here, that she’s touching me like she wants me too, that she isn’t running for the hills now that she knows how completely fucking unprepared I am for any of this.

My pulse is a hammer in my throat, my breathing completely uneven, my body already going too warm.

Her fingertips press into my bicep, slow, dragging down toward my wrist again before skimming back up, testing, feeling, learning.

And I can barely fucking process it. I should be enjoying this, should be letting myself sink into it, letting myself actually feel the fact that Haven is touching me, tracing me, memorizing me like she wants to know what I feel like beneath her hands.

But instead, all I can think about is Tate, who is upstairs. Tate, who has never had to deal with this, who doesn’t hesitate, who doesn’t overthink, who isn’t sitting here completely wrecked because a girl is touching him for the first time. Tate doesn’t have this problem, he wouldn’t be sitting here in complete fucking panic mode, wouldn’t be trying to ignore the fact that his body is reacting too fast, too eager, wouldn’t be struggling with the sudden pressure of Haven’s hands moving over his skin.

Tate would know exactly what to do next. I squeeze my eyes shut for half a second, dragging in a breath, trying to force myself to stop thinking about it, stop comparing, stop making this something it doesn’t need to be.

This is about Haven. Who’s still watching me, still touching me, still looking at me like she isn’t put off by any of this, like she wants to keep going, like maybe she’s enjoying this just as much as I am.

I force myself to focus, to feel the weight of her palm pressing against my forearm, to process the way she’s studying my reactions, gauging my body’s response, letting herself explore like she’s discovering something new, something she wants to keep exploring. And it’s fucking killing me. Because this is new. This is the first time someone has looked at me like this, touched me like this, made me feel like this. And I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to do next. I need to say something. I need to stop sitting here like I’ve been hit by a fucking freight train, like my entire world didn’t just tilt sideways the second Haven put her hands on me, like I’m not on the verge of completely combusting because I don’t know how to handle any of this.

But my throat is tight, my body locked up, my brain still short-circuiting at the fact that she isn’t pulling away, that she’s still touching me, still looking at me like she wants me just as much as I want her. And I can’t take it anymore.

“I—” I swallow hard, dragging in a breath, my words stuttering before they even form, my pulse pounding so hard I can feel it in my fingertips. “I don’t—fuck, Haven, I don’t know what I’m doing, at all.”

Her hands still, her fingers flexing slightly where they rest against my arm, her eyes find mine, like she knows this is serious, like she knows I’m two seconds away from spiraling. “You don’t have to.”

I shake my head, letting out a rough, humorless laugh, dragging my hands through my hair, shifting slightly like that’s going to help shake the heat crawling up my neck, the tension riding my shoulders, the sheer fucking panic still clawing its way up my spine. “I just—I didn’t think it’d be like this,” I admit, voice uneven, barely holding together. “I didn’t think I’d—fuck, Haven, I didn’t think I’d have to figure this out with you.” Shit, I want it to be with her, did I just sound like a complete asshole?

Her expression shifts, “Carter,” she murmurs, her voice gentle, like she needs me to hear her. “I’m not expecting anything from you. There’s nothing you have to prove.”

I let out another shaky exhale, my fingers curling into fists against my thighs. I want to let this be enough, let her words settle in, let myself relax into the fact that she’s here, that she’s not pushing, that she’s not expecting me to magically know what the fuck I’m doing.

But I don’t know how. Because all I can think about is how I’ve never done this before, never let anyone close enough, never let myself have this. Now that I want her? I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to do next. I drag in another sharp breath, forcing my hands to unclench, my fingers flexing against my thighs like that’s going to help me sort through the mess of emotions clawing their way to the surface.

But it doesn’t help. Nothing fucking helps. I can’t let her think for even a second that I don’t want this too. I tilt my head back, closing my eyes for half a second, letting my pulse even out, letting the words gather on my tongue before I finally let them go. “I want this.”

I feel her still beside me, feel her breath catch just slightly,. So I keep going. I have to, because if I don’t say this now I never will.

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