The flames from the bonfire flickered high, casting golden light over the crowded beach. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and the air was thick with salt and smoke. You weren’t even sure how you ended up at this party—half these people weren’t even your friends, just Kooks who thrived off drama and gossip. But Rafe? He wanted to be here, so you came.

And, as always, he had his arm slung over your shoulder like a silent warning to every other guy on this beach. But apparently, some people didn’t take the hint.

You felt the stare before you even saw him—the guy standing near the keg, watching you with a smirk like he was debating whether or not to take his shot. And maybe he would have. Maybe he would have come over, said something cocky, tried his luck.

If it weren’t for Rafe.

One glance was all it took. Rafe’s jaw tensed, his fingers flexed against your hip, and his entire body stiffened like a predator locking onto its prey.

“Stay here.” His voice was low, controlled—too controlled. The kind of calm that only came before the storm.

Before you could protest, he was already moving, stalking across the sand with slow, purposeful steps. The other guy barely had time to react before Rafe was in front of him, shoving a hand against his chest, forcing him backward.

“The fuck you lookin’ at, huh?” Rafe’s voice was sharp, dripping with venom. The guy held up his hands. “Relax, man. I wasn’t—”

“Yeah? You weren’t what?” Rafe cut him off, stepping in closer, forcing the guy back another step. “’Cause I could’ve sworn you were staring at my girl.”

You swallowed hard, watching the scene unfold. People were already whispering, eyes flickering toward them like they were waiting for the first punch to be thrown.

Rafe let out a cold chuckle, shaking his head. “See, that’s a problem for me,” he murmured, tilting his head. “You know why?”

The guy stayed silent. Rafe didn’t.

“Because she’s mine.”