Rafe was used to getting what he wanted. Money, attention, Sofia.

Except this time, Sofia had slipped through his fingers—and worse, into the arms of someone else. Some other guy who didn’t know her the way Rafe did.

It burned him up inside.

So when you, the quiet girl with messy notes and pencil smudges on your cheek, confessed your crush on that same boy, Rafe had a plan. If you got him, Sofia would come crawling back to Rafe. Everyone wins—especially Rafe.

Now he was sitting on the edge of your bed, knee bouncing impatiently, while you sat cross-legged on the floor, finishing your last line of homework. He didn’t know how someone could spend so much time scribbling in a notebook, but you did.

Finally, you looked up, pushing your glasses up your nose.

“You’ve got such pretty eyes,” Rafe said, letting the words roll off his tongue like it was nothing.

You blinked, still in study mode. “Thanks.”

That was it? Just thanks?

He tilted his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “If you want to learn how to flirt, you’ve gotta play along.”

“Wait—that was flirting?” you asked, brows furrowed, genuinely confused.

Rafe let out a low laugh, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees. His eyes caught the way your cheeks flushed, whether from embarrassment or something else, he couldn’t tell. “You’re stupid for a nerd,” he teased.