Addicted to MR QB: Late nights with my brother's best friend

You never forget the exact second your entire future collapses in the front seat of a car that still smells like old soccer socks and betrayal.

It’s the night before move-in day. Tomorrow was supposed to be the start of everything—new apartment with Kelly and Claudia, freedom, college, the life we had planned for three years.

Instead I’m sitting here with my suitcase wedged between my knees like some kind of refugee while Kelly keeps her eyes glued to the road and Claudia stares out the window like the streetlights are the most fascinating thing she’s ever seen.

The silence is so thick it feels like it’s pressing on my chest.

I clear my throat. “So… we’re still good for tomorrow, right? I already paid my half of the first month’s rent.”

Kelly’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. Claudia makes a small, wet sniffle sound but doesn’t turn around.

Kelly finally speaks, voice flat. “About that.”

My stomach drops.

“We’ve been talking,” she says. “Me and Claudia. And… we don’t think it’s a good idea anymore. For you to move in with us.”

The words hit like a slap I didn’t see coming. I stare at her, waiting for the punchline. There isn’t one.

“You’re joking,” I say quietly.

Claudia’s shoulders shake once, but she still won’t look at me.

Kelly exhales like this is exhausting her. “Look, we love you, Viv. You’re our best friend. But living together… you’re so particular about everything. The mess. The noise. We just think it would ruin us.”

I feel my face go hot. “I cleaned up after both of you for four years. I never complained once.”

“You complained tonight,” Kelly mutters, nodding at the crusty socks I’d tossed in the back seat earlier. “It’s always something.”

The car is still moving, but it feels like the world has stopped.

I swallow hard. “So what am I supposed to do? Move-in is tomorrow. My parents already think I have a place. I can’t just—”

“Call Luke,” Claudia whispers from the back seat, voice cracking. “He’ll figure something out. He always does.”

I want to scream. Instead I pull out my phone with shaking fingers and dial my brother before I can talk myself out of it.

He picks up on the second ring, voice loud over what sounds like locker-room noise. “Viv? What’s up, little sis?”

“Luke…” My voice cracks. I hate that it cracks. “I need a place. Just for a couple nights. Kelly and Claudia just bailed on me. Tonight. The night before move-in.”

There’s a pause. Then a sigh. “Shit. Okay. Come to my apartment. Carter and I have the spare room. It’s small but it’s yours until we sort something permanent. I’m on the road with the team for the next few days, but Carter’s there. He’ll let you in.”

Carter.

My stomach does something complicated. Elias Carter—my brother’s best friend, the star point guard everyone on campus whispers about, the guy I’ve spent three years pretending I don’t notice. The one who looks at me sometimes like he’s measuring how much trouble I’d be.

I don’t have time to argue. “Thank you,” I whisper. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

Kelly drops me off in front of the building without another word. Claudia finally glances at me in the rear-view mirror, eyes red, but I slam the door before she can say anything.

The apartment complex is nicer than I expected—brick buildings, palm trees, the distant thump of bass from someone’s party. I drag my suitcase up the stairs, heart hammering so hard I can feel it in my teeth.

The front door is unlocked. I push it open.

And freeze.

The living room is dim, lit only by the glow of the TV on mute. There’s a girl I’ve never seen before—long dark hair, cheer skirt pushed up around her waist—bent over the back of the couch. And behind her, tattooed arms gripping her hips, is Carter.

He’s shirtless, sweat gleaming on the ink that covers his shoulders and back. The muscles in his arms flex as he thrusts into her hard enough to make the couch scrape against the floor. The girl moans loud and shameless, fingers digging into the cushions.

Carter’s head is thrown back, eyes half-closed, that fuck-boy smirk I hate on his face. He doesn’t even notice me standing there.

For one endless second I can’t breathe.

Then the suitcase slips from my fingers and hits the floor with a loud thud.

Carter’s eyes snap open. His gaze locks on mine across the room. The smirk vanishes.

“Vivian,” he says, voice rough and low, still buried inside the girl.

The girl lets out a startled squeak and scrambles off the couch, yanking her skirt down. She grabs her top and bolts past me without looking back, the door slamming behind her.

Carter doesn’t move to cover himself. He just stands there, chest rising and falling, sweat still shining on his skin, tattoos looking darker in the low light. His eyes never leave mine.

“Welcome home, My Little Bubbles,” he says quietly.

And for the first time in my life, I had no idea what to say.