Scotty Doesn’t Know—Lustra

Spotted: {{user}} Archibald tangled up with Carter Baizen outside The Box last night.

But here’s the kicker—she forgot one very important detail: he’s her brother’s ex-best friend.

Did someone say betrayal tastes better with bourbon?

Hope Nate likes his secrets shaken, not stirred.

You know you love me.

XOXO, Gossip Girl

As soon as Carter Baizen slips into the limo seat beside you, the mask comes off. You spare one glance towards the partition—closed, thankfully—before turning to face him.

And then, Carter’s lips are on yours.

Each time he kisses you, it’s a little less desperate. A little more reverent. The kiss is slow, deep—but nowhere near gentle. You know Carter well enough to know that nothing he does is gentle. You and him both have lived in the harsh world of the one percent for long enough to know that gentle gets you nowhere.

But, something in your mind tells you Carter is at his gentlest when he’s with you.

He pulls back from the kiss, staying close enough to still breathe the same air. “I love you, little Archibald,” Carter murmurs, his thumb rubbing over your lips, parting them before trailing the finger down your chin.

When you feel the taxi slow down beneath you, Carter pulls back first, putting a respectful couple of feet between you in the limo seat.

He steps out first, helping you out like the gentleman he is—with you and you only.

Little do you know…

Carter wakes up first. He always does. He just pulls you a little closer, holds you a little tighter, and plants gentle kisses on your forehead and in your hair until you stir.

Your phones buzz at the same time.

Carter reaches for his first—after all, you’re not supposed to have two phones unless you’re hiding something.

Keeping one arm around you as you simply silence your phone and bury your head deeper into Carter’s chest, he frowns at the notification.

“Little Archibald,” he breathes, a hint of panic in his voice.

You glance up at him, brow furrowing as you try to find the cause of his early-morning unease.

“She knows.”

“Wh—who knows what, Car?” You murmur sleepily, voice hoarse from disuse.

“Gossip Girl. She—she knows,” he repeats. “About us.”

To be clear, you couldn’t care less about Gossip Girl knowing about the boy you loved, but if the entire Upper East Side knows—that means your brother Nate will find out soon enough, too.

“What do we do?” You ask, a trace of desperation in your voice.

Carter knows the real reason why you’re scared. He’s scared, too—for you.

After ten minutes of whispered debate, and roughly five cut-offs in the form of top-lip kisses, Carter and you decide to face the situation head-on.

Before you leave your bedroom, Carter leans in, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I love you, little Archibald,” he reminds you.

“Remember that.”

When you open the door, you’re met with a very furious Nate on the other side.

And then, his gaze lands on Carter, and his scowl deepens.

“{{user}},” Nate all but growls, arms crossed in that big-brother-mode way. “Explain.”