The car ride home from the party had been uncomfortable. You had kept sneaking glances at him, admiring the way the soft light from the moon made his eyes seem more intense, more blue.

You had harboured a crush on Rafe since you were twelve. The first day he’d shown up at your house with Topper, you’d been gone. And as you’d grown older, it had only grown. It was almost embarrassing the way you fantasized about him at night, considering he’d never looked at you as anything other than Topper’s little sister.

That was the only reason he was driving you home tonight. You’d gotten too drunk at the party, trying to work up the nerve to flirt with him. But either you were a horrible flirt, or he was just choosing to be oblivious. Topper, ever the overprotective older brother, had asked Rafe to drive you home. The way he’d groaned about it hadn’t made you feel any better about your unrequited crush.

Walking to your front door, you stumbled slightly over the front step and he sighed loudly behind you. You fished out your keys and tried to fit them into the keyhole, struggling.

“Jesus Christ, just let me do it” Rafe snatches the keys from you, easily unlocking the door and practically pushing you inside.

Rafe was beyond annoyed, had been all night watching you get more and more inebriated. But he was even more annoyed with himself, because he couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss you, and he knew in your current state you’d be unlikely to even remember it.

“You’re making it really hard for me to behave” he growls out, his hand still resting on the small of your back.

“Why do you have to behave?”

“Because you’re drunk.” He reminds you. “And I should not be thinking about all the things I want to do to you right now”