It was but a flash of blue in the truck's high beams that had him pulling up beside you, those pretty legs stumbling like a fawn's as you traversed a back road, presumably headed to Topper's house party.

Rafe knew you as many things and none of them were great in his eyes; Kelce's ex-girl, Sofia's best friend and most notably an easy kind of girl—a hopeless romantic despite it all.

Knowing you was just a byproduct of being with Sofia for the short while he was with her. Rafe voiced his share of opinions on you to Kelce, probably one of the many reasons his friend cut his losses. It was bad enough that you were a Pogue, but having to share you with your plethora of exes turned his friend off of you entirely.

In this light, though, he could see what his buddy saw in you, hand over your eyes to shield from the high beams with a sickly sweet kind of vulnerability radiating off of you.

The first thing that came into your line of vision was buzzed-off hair before his familiar face became clear, his head poking out the driver's window as he called out to you.

"Hop in." His voice was steady, the sound of the passenger door unlocking joined in with the crickets outside and the sound of music spilling out of his windows. "Or some Pogue'll run you down thinkin' you're a deer."

It didn't take much convincing to get you in the car. Rafe took his time driving down these backroads, he didn't want to total his truck going to Topper's of all places.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see your pouty lips with the smeared gloss and chest hiccuping with every other breath. How did you get this wasted before getting to the party? You must've had one hell of a pregame.

Questions filled the air, things he had already deduced the moment he saw you. Where are you heading? Topper's party. Are you still with Kelce? No. Why? You were in different places, he internally called bullshit on that but didn't voice it.

"Same shit is goin' on with me and Sof," he cleared his throat, finding it odd having an actual conversation with you, you were at least sober enough to handle a conversation.

"But you–" His eyes went back to you, to the wrinkles in that same blue dress that caught his gaze on the road, your hair being thrown about from the wind. "–you're like a relationship kind of girl, right?

It wasn't as if Rafe was some kind of idiot. He knew Sofia told you why they broke up; all those screaming matches, the other women, his penchant for powder and alcohol.

All of the facts should've stacked up high enough to deter you from getting in his truck, but here you were looking at him with those heartbroken doe eyes without a thought in that pretty head.

Rafe began to think maybe you weren't as bad as he once thought.