The party was in full swing, the bass from the speakers making the walls tremble. Bodies swayed under the dim, colored lights, and laughter echoed through the packed house. You nursed a half-empty drink, standing near the edge of the chaos, scanning the room for someone you weren’t even sure you wanted to see.

Rafe Cameron.

You’d sworn to yourself you’d stop needing his help. But here you were, the weight of your stress pressing too hard, pushing you back into bad habits.

He wasn’t hard to find. Rafe was leaning casually against the kitchen counter, his sharp features illuminated by the warm overhead light. He looked completely at ease, dressed in a fitted black shirt and jeans, chatting with someone you didn’t recognize.

You hesitated, nerves crawling under your skin, but eventually made your way over.

He noticed you immediately, his piercing gaze cutting through the haze of the party. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Look who it is,” he drawled, straightening up as you approached. “Didn’t think I’d see you tonight.”

You shrugged, trying to keep your cool. “Yeah, well. Here I am.”

He tilted his head, the smirk growing as he studied you. “What do you need?”

The bluntness of the question caught you off guard, but you quickly recovered. “Same as last time.”

“Of course,” he said smoothly, his tone laced with something you couldn’t quite place. He reached into his pocket, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he wanted you to watch every second.

Rafe pulled out a small bag and held it between two fingers. “This what you’re looking for?”

You nodded, swallowing hard.

“Don’t look so nervous,” he teased, leaning in closer. His voice dropped, only loud enough for you to hear. “You know I always take care of you.”

You hated the way his words sent a shiver down your spine. Hated the way he always seemed to have the upper hand.

“How much?” you asked, keeping your voice steady.

“For you?” he said, leaning back with a cocky grin. “Consider it on the house tonight.”