“Rafe, would you just listen to me, for once?”

{{user}} demanded harshly as Rafe sauntered down the narrow side hall of his father’s yacht, a glass of bourbon he’d stolen from his father’s stash in his hand. {{user}} was hot on his heels; She had to jog to keep up with his long stride. {{user}}, in a last-ditch effort to get his attention, reached out and tugged hard on his shirt, forcing him to face her. They faced off, the usually-calming ocean breeze swirling around them, going unnoticed, and the gentle sway of the yacht beneath their feet barely acknowledged.

“I saw Sophia with Kelce last night at Figure Eight, and they were all over each other. I don’t know what’s so hard for you to believe about that. Or why you think I would lie to you.” She hissed, her eyes glaring daggers at him, outwardly angry but secretly desperate for him to see reason.

Rafe’s jaw clenched as he stared down at his best friend of fourteen years, his expression tense, but unreadable. She could tell he was doing his best not to lash out at her.