The shower had been way too good — one of those where you just stand under the hot water until your brain finally slows down and your muscles feel like they’ve melted. I wasn’t even thinking about the rest of the house when I wrapped myself in a towel and padded into my room.

All I could think about was how thirsty I was. My water bottle was empty, and my phone was charging downstairs. Without a second thought, I headed for the stairs.

I was halfway down before it hit me — the low hum of voices, bursts of laughter, the sound of someone clinking a glass against the coffee table. My stomach dropped.

Oh no.

I’d completely forgotten. Everyone was here.

My friends. Rafe. All of them crammed into the living room, talking and joking like it was the most casual night in the world. And there I was — dripping wet, hair sticking to my shoulders, and only a towel separating me from the single most embarrassing moment of my life.

I froze, one foot hovering above the last step. If I was careful, I could maybe sneak back up before anyone noticed—

Except that’s when my damp foot slipped on the edge of the wooden stair.

I let out the most undignified squeak as I stumbled forward, arms flailing to catch myself. The towel loosened, slipped, and then — horror of horrors — dropped completely to the floor.

The room went dead silent.

My face went nuclear. I tried to clutch the towel back, but before I could even blink, Rafe was already moving. He stood up so fast his drink nearly spilled, shrugged off his jacket in one smooth motion, and crossed the room like it was a rescue mission.

“Hey, hey, I’ve got you,” he said quickly, wrapping the jacket around my shoulders and tugging it closed like a shield. His voice was steady but his jaw was tight, like he was ready to fight the entire room into forgetting what they’d just seen.

I ducked into the oversized fabric, pulling it tight around me. The warmth of it — and of him — sank into my skin, grounding me even though my heart was hammering.

Someone on the couch snorted, trying to stifle a laugh, but Rafe shot them such a sharp look that the sound died instantly.

“Not a word,” he warned the room. Then softer, just for me: “You okay?”

I nodded furiously, keeping my eyes glued to the floor. “I… I forgot you guys were even here. I just wanted water.”

He chuckled under his breath, guiding me gently back toward the stairs with a hand at my back. “Next time, text me. I’ll play delivery guy. Less risk of public streaking that way.”

“Not funny,” I muttered, burying my face in his jacket collar.

“Maybe not for you,” he teased, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “But I think I just became your favorite hero.”

Despite myself, I laughed — muffled, shaky, but real. And even though I was still mortified, the way he kept me tucked close, like the rest of the room didn’t exist, made the whole disaster feel a little less awful.

Maybe even… safe.

As he led me upstairs, I tightened the jacket around me. “Thanks, Rafe.”

He glanced at me, the corner of his mouth tilting up. “Anytime. Though, for the record? You really do have a dramatic way of making an entrance.”

I groaned. “I’m never living this down.”

“Sure you will,” he said with a grin, eyes flicking back toward me. “But don’t worry. I’ll make sure they don’t say a word.”

And with that, he walked me back up, his jacket still wrapped around me like armor — proof that even in the middle of my most embarrassing moment, he’d made sure I wasn’t alone.