The summer sun kissed your skin as you walked into the Kildare Country Club, excitement bubbling in your chest. You’d been seeing Rafe for weeks now, and while nothing was official, there was something unspoken between the two of you. He understood you in ways that felt surprising, given who he was—a kook, Ward Cameron’s son, and someone your brother would lose his mind over if he found out.

Still, you couldn’t help but be drawn to him. It was in the stolen glances, the way he’d smirk at your jokes, and how he’d brush his hand against yours like he was testing the boundaries of something bigger. So, when you decided to surprise him at the club, it felt right.

But the moment you stepped into the clubhouse lounge, you froze. Rafe’s voice carried over the clink of glasses and laughter. “I don’t want her,” he said, and your heart stuttered.

“She’s John B’s sister, man,” Topper’s voice chimed in. “That’s a big enough red flag, bro. You’ve got to be out of your mind.”

Rafe chuckled lowly. “She’s just something to distract myself with, y’know? I wouldn’t date a pogue. Come on.”

The words hit you like a physical blow. Your chest tightened, and suddenly, it was hard to breathe. You turned quickly, slipping out unnoticed.

Back home, the Pogues found you in your room, muffled sobs breaking through the door. You refused to tell them what happened, brushing it off with vague excuses. But Sarah saw the way your eyes stayed puffy and red. She pieced it together, her anger at Rafe overshadowed only by her concern for you.

She texted him, the message curt: You need to fix this. Now.

Rafe arrived an hour later, his chest heaving with unspoken worry. Sarah met him at the door, her arms crossed, eyes narrowed in judgment.

“Where is she?” he asked, his voice tight with urgency.