Page 20 of No Save Point

It doesn’t work. Because the second I step into my room, shutting the door behind me, the silence that follows is loud, pressing, impossible to ignore.

I exhale slowly, dragging a hand through my hair, my reflection catching in the mirror across the room. I look… tense. Like I just walked away from a fight instead of a conversation I already knew was coming, one I should have been more prepared for, one I should have had the second I knew Haven was coming here.

I stare at myself for a long second, then shove the thought away, moving toward my dresser, pulling open the top drawer.

I need to focus. I need to get ready. Dinner. Haven. That’s what matters right now. I grab a fresh T-shirt, black and fitted, one that doesn’t look like I just pulled it out of a laundry pile but isn’t so put together that it seems like I actually tried. Jeans next, clean but comfortable, something neutral, something easy.

I don’t let myself think too much while I move, don’t let myself dwell on the fact that she’s still in town. That she’s here, just a few minutes away, probably waiting, probably not even thinking about this the way I am.

Probably not wondering what she’s actually walked into. I pause, pressing my hands against the dresser, staring down at the wood like it might give me an answer I don’t already know. Because she should know. She should already know.

About Tate. About what I’ve been deliberately keeping from her. But I haven’t told her. And that’s on me. I know why I didn’t. How do you even explain this? How do you casually drop into conversation that the guy she’s been rival gaming with for months, the one she argues with, the one she goes head-to-head with every time they’re on the same server… is my twin. My older-by-two-minutes, chaos-fueled, mask-wearing asshole twin.

I rake my hands through my hair, blowing out a slow breath. I should have told her before she got here. Now it’s just another lie by omission, another thing waiting to unravel the second Tate decides he’s done keeping quiet, the second he gets bored of this game and flips the whole board. I don’t know when that’ll be. But I know it’s coming. Haven’s gonna hate me for it. I shut the drawer harder than necessary, straighten up, square my shoulders.

Not tonight. Not yet. Tonight, I take her to dinner. I pretend everything is fine. And I pray that Tate stays the hell out of my way.

By the time I grab my keys and head out the door, the sky is a deep, inky blue, the last traces of daylight fading beneath the glow of streetlamps. I slide into the driver’s seat, exhaling slowly, forcing my pulse to steady, my mind to focus.

This is just dinner. I grab my phone, tapping out a quick message before I can let myself overthink any of this.On my way, sweetheart.

I drop the phone onto the passenger seat, pull out of the driveway, and start heading toward the Airbnb. The streets are quiet, the town slipping into that slow rhythm it always falls into after dark, the kind of silence that makes everything feel heavier. Then my phone buzzes. I glance over at the screen, see her name, and reach for it at the next stoplight.

Haven:Cool. Also, heads up, Cassie’s leaving tonight.

I blink. Cassie’s leaving. Tonight. The words sit heavier than they should, pressing into my chest, sending a ripple of something I can’t quite name down my spine. This changes things. Because this means it won’t be the three of us anymore, it’ll just be Haven and me. No best friend watching over her, keeping me in check. Just us. And that’s… fuck. It’s terrifying. And it’s exciting as hell.

I grip the wheel a little tighter, my jaw tightening, my pulse kicking up a notch as I press my foot to the gas. I don’t know what this means. But I do know one thing. Whatever happens next? It just got a hell of a lot more interesting.

9

Haven

Cassie is sprawled across the bed once again, her phone in one hand, lazily flipping through whatever social media chaos is keeping her entertained, while I pace the length of the small Airbnb bedroom, my fingers gripping my phone like it might spontaneously combust in my palm.

I swallow hard, exhaling through my nose, trying to ignore the way my pulse has been pounding a little too hard since I read Carter’s text. Since I realized this is actually happening. “I—uh, he’s on his way,” I say finally, voice a little tight and uneven.

Cassie doesn’t even look up. “Shocker.”

I shoot her a glare, my nails tapping against the back of my phone. “No, I mean—like, he’s actually on his way right now.”

She sighs like she’s dealing with a child. “Yes, Haven. That’s what ‘on my way’ typically means.”

I groan, dropping onto the edge of the bed, my knee bouncing, my brain running a full-on marathon in my skull.

Cassie finally looks at me, brows raised, taking in the absolute disaster I’m becoming. She sighs, locking her phone. “Okay. What’s the damage?”

I frown. “What?”

She waves a hand at me. “You’re spiraling. Let’s get it all out now so you don’t freak out in his car and make this weird.”

I groan, flopping back onto the mattress. “I’m not going to freak out.”

Cassie snorts. “You’re five seconds away from a full existential crisis.”

I let out a slow breath, staring at the ceiling. “It’s just… real now.”

Cassie tilts her head. “And that’s bad because..?”

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