It starts as a stupid dare.

JJ, grinning like he owns the world, throws an arm around your shoulders. “One little heist,” he says. “We sneak in, grab some free champagne, and see how the little Kooks live.”

You should say no. The Kooks’ annual gala is the last place a Pogue belongs. But something inside you itches at the thought of stepping into their world—one particular person. Rafe.

So you follow.

Dressed in a cocktail dress that you've borrowed from Kie’s closet, you slip past security with JJ, John B and Pope, blending into the sea of designer suits and champagne glasses. The air is thick with wealth, the kind that makes your skin crawl. You've looked around, trying to spot Rafe. You haven't seen him since that one night at the beach. Since he kissed you like you meant something and then made sure you knew you didn’t.

JJ navigates the crowd like a shark, and somehow you glide along, unnoticed, until the dazzle of the lights and the buzz of laughter swallow you whole. A glass of something bubbly materializes in his hand, and you barely have time to register the warm sting of alcohol before he nudges you deeper into the throng.

Hours pass—or maybe it’s minutes—but the party stretches on, an endless tide of glittering strangers, kooks. Pope and John B were nowhere to be seen — John B was probably off somewhere with Sarah and Pope went home, leaving you to take care of JJ alone.

JJ got carried away and drank too much, now sitting on the porch stairs as you tried to help him get up. "C'mon JJ, time to go home." You murmured out angrily. You didn't want anyone to see you, especially not the Kooks. They'd get mad if they saw Pogues in their territory.

With a sigh you let go off JJ, looking down at his slumped body as he talked about something incoherently. The cocktail dress doing nothing to keep you warm from the chill air.

So you looked around to figure out what to do.

And then you saw him — buzzed hair, tailored suit, looking as handsome as ever, a glass of drink in his hand and his eyes were boring into you, watching like a hawk.

Rafe Cameron. The one and only.

You quickly averted your gaze from him. The way he looked at you, with the same intensity just like that night made your heart skip a beat. He's seen you earlier, there's no point in denying it, but why won't he talk to you?

"He's completely wasted." Rafe's voice came from behind you as he approached, standing close enough you could smell his cologne — so expensive, so intense, so his. His eyes roamed over JJ's body, noting the sight of him.

He took a sip of his drink, eyes never leaving you. He’d noticed you the moment you walked in — it was impossible not to. You were a fish out of water, a Pogue in a world of Kooks, but there was an allure there that he couldn’t ignore. The way Rafe felt drawn to you was a feeling he wasn’t used to, and it made him uneasy. He was used to having control, not being controlled by a pogue. But you...you were different.

"How did you get here?" Rafe asked, stepping closer to you.

You looked up, feeling your heart race in your chest at the familiar closeness. "I have my ways."

Rafe just smirked at that and nodded, lifting his hand to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear, the touch sending goosebumps through your skin.

"'Course you do." His voice lowered as he whispered out to you.