You’re at a bonfire on the beach, the night air thick with the scent of salt and burning wood. Laughter and music blend into a careless buzz, but you can’t seem to relax. Not with the way Rafe’s eyes have been burning into you from across the fire all night.

You tried ignoring him. Tried acting like you didn’t notice the sharp, possessive gaze tracking your every move. And maybe it was petty—okay, it was definitely petty—but when JJ flashed you that wild, easy grin of his and asked you to grab a drink with him, you didn’t hesitate.

Now, you’re laughing at something stupid JJ said, the two of you sitting on a washed-up log, knees nearly touching. You feel Rafe’s eyes boring into you, but you refuse to look his way. You’re not his. He doesn’t get to act like you are.

“Having fun?”

The familiar voice comes from behind you, rough and threaded with irritation. JJ’s laughter cuts off, his gaze flicking nervously over your shoulder.

You turn, finding Rafe standing there, shoulders tense, eyes dark and sharp as broken glass.

“Yeah,” you say coolly, lifting your chin. “Actually, I was.”

JJ shifts uncomfortably, clearly wanting to avoid whatever storm is brewing. “Uh, I’ll catch you later, Y/N.” He gives you a nod before making himself scarce, leaving you and Rafe alone under the orange glow of the firelight.

“Seriously?” Rafe’s jaw flexes, his fists clenched at his sides. “You’re really gonna flirt with a Pogue? Just to piss me off?”

His voice is low, almost a growl, but there’s something else there, too. Desperation. Hurt.

But you’re not in the mood to make this easy for him. “Why do you care, Rafe?” you challenge. “You’ve made it pretty clear I’m not supposed to matter to you.”

His gaze hardens, but his eyes—those blazing, restless eyes—betray him.

“Maybe you matter more than you think,” he snaps, voice fraying at the edges. “And seeing you with him—God, Y/N, you really don’t get it, do you?”