There was only one goal.

You both wanted to piss off the person who hurt you the most. Nothing else was supposed to happen. Those were the rules. No feelings, no attachments, no real friendship. Everything you did had a purpose, and nothing was supposed to get in the way.

Rafe had made it clear from the very beginning that this was about showing Sofia he didn’t care she had already replaced him. You never argued because, in the end, you had your own reasons. You wanted Kiara to believe that her choice to leave you for the Pogues meant nothing.

But after a while, something changed.

The time you spent together. The effort you put in to make it believable. To convince everyone else, and maybe even yourselves. The kisses. The way Rafe whispered sweet nothings in your ear, making you laugh like he’d just told the greatest joke. Somewhere along the way, the lines blurred. Each day, it all felt a little less fake.

“You act like touching me is physically painful. Relax.” Rafe whispered, his arm draped over yours, pulling you closer as you stood in the crowded house, surrounded by bodies, music, and the burn of alcohol.