Page 44 of The Gaybor War

Carter studies me as if solving a puzzle. "You usually narrate them."

Ah, there it is. The crack. My silence is getting under his skin.

Before I can respond, Candace gasps. We both turn. Then Kiki screams, "WHY IS THERE A FLOATING DIAPER⁠—"

The moment shatters. Carter laughs. A real laugh, surprised and unguarded. I feel it settle in my chest like a dare.

The pool gets cleared. Again. Someone yells about chlorine levels. Someone else insists it’s "just a little kid pee" as if that’s a measurable unit. Towels are grabbed. People scatter toward chairs and shade and drinks that suddenly feel necessary.

Carter and I end up by the beverage table. Alone. Briefly.

He reaches for the cooler at the same time I do. Our hands collide—knuckles, fingers, heat. It’s not accidental. But not entirely intentional either.

"Sorry," he says immediately.

I don’t move my hand. Neither does he.

"It’s fine," I say calmly, as if my pulse isn’t doing something deeply unhelpful.

Up close, he smells of soap and sunblock. No performance. No excess. Just him. His sunglasses are off now, eyes exposed and searching my face as if he’s trying to solve a problem he doesn’t want the answer to.

He swallows. "I didn’t mean to—" He stops. Restarts. "The other night."

I wait.

He exhales. "I shouldn’t have sent you away like that."

Oh.

I let my fingers slip free, deliberately gentle. "You’re allowed to change your mind. You’re also allowed to keep it."

He nods, relieved and disappointed all at once. "I know."

Silence tickles my ears. Too many things left unsaid crowd the space.

"I just…" He trails off, jaw tightening. "I’m not great at this."

"I know," I say softly.

That’s when his eyes flick to my mouth. Just once. That’s all I need.

Someone calls his name. Candace, maybe. Or Shania. The spell breaks. He steps back, already closing himself off again, putting the armor back on piece by piece.

"I should—" he starts.

"Go," I finish for him. "I know."

He hesitates. Then quietly says, "You look… nice today."

It’s not smooth. It’s not practiced. It’s sincere.

I can’t hide my smile. "So do you, Carter."

He leaves, and I stare as he goes. And as the afternoon hums back to life around me, one thing is very, very clear: He’s thinking about me.

Which means the war phase is officially over… Mostly.

Now it’s a waiting game.