The party at Topper’s house was in full swing—music loud, drinks flowing, laughter echoing through the massive space. The usual crowd was there, caught up in their routines: drinking, talking, doing lines like it was nothing. Rafe sat on the couch with Kelce and Topper, half in conversation, half lost in his own world.

Across the room, another group had settled into one of the seating areas—some girls, all throwing quick glances toward Rafe, Topper, and the rest. It was obvious. They wanted attention. Their eyes lingered too long, their laughs were just a little too loud. But one girl wasn’t playing along.

You.

You sat there, taking slow sips of your drink, eyes fixed on your phone like the chaos around you was nothing but background noise. No stolen glances, no desperate attempts to be noticed. Just… unbothered.

Rafe noticed. And it didn’t sit right with him.

It wasn’t about needing every girl in the room to fall over him—it was the principle. His ego wasn’t built for this kind of thing. So, he stood up.

A ripple of excitement ran through the group of girls. Their backs straightened, their lips parted like they were preparing for something, waiting for his attention to land on one of them.

But he didn’t stop.

Didn’t even look their way.

Instead, he walked straight to you.

You didn’t notice him at first, too focused on your screen. So, he made sure you would.

His hands landed on your shoulders, firm but slow, his fingers pressing lightly through the fabric of your top. A pause. Then, one hand slid upward, fingertips grazing your jaw before tilting your chin up—forcing you to look at him.

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. “You always this boring, or just for me?”

You scoff. “You always this desperate, or just for me?”

His grin doesn’t fade. If anything, it deepens. “Desperate?” His thumb trails along your jaw, slow. “Nah. Just curious.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Curious, ’cause I don’t give you the attention your ego needs?”

His cocky grin appears. “Atta girl.”