He had told you he didn’t do ’exclusive’.

Which you can believe. He’s Rafe, you weren’t sure he could even tell you the definition of the word commitment.

So, you went with it. Forget that the two of you had been sleeping together for months. You’re single.

And there was a party tonight in Figure 8, which you were obviously going to attend. And you knew he’d be there too. Which is why you wore a dress that could barely be considered a piece of fabric that Sarah and Kie helped you pick out.

Your ass was definitely almost hanging out. Bending over wouldn’t be recommended.

You were beating some Kook at beer pong, your phone sitting on the table as you tossed the ping pong ball, the plastic landing in the cup.

You looked down as your phone dinged, the screen lighting up. A message from Rafe.

‘what the fuck are u wearing’

You smirked to yourself, clicking on the notification and messaging him back as the other person threw the ball back, missing your cups.

‘You like?’ ‘it was on sale’

You set your phone down, taking the ball from whatever guy had run after it and tossing it into one of the other guys cups, now down to 2 cups on the other side. You watched the guy groan before he picked up the solo cup, chugging the beer.

‘Yeah I bet’ ‘Theres barely any fuckin fabric to it’

You rolled your eyes, quickly typing out a response.

‘So you’re a conservative now?’

You put your phone down, watching as the guy threw the ball, going into one of your cups. You picked it up, chugging the liquid with a grimace at the taste. You took the ball, ignoring your screen as it lit up again.

You tossed the ball making it into one of the cups. There was one cup left for you to win. You smirked as the people around you cheered, his friends saying something about him losing to a chick.

You picked up your phone, reading the message.

‘drop your fucking attitude’ ‘if Heyward looks at your ass one more time I’m ripping him apart.’

You watched the guy throw the ball, missing your cups as you held your phone. You typed two quick messages before setting your phone down, done with the conversation.

‘Why do you even care, Rafe? We aren’t exclusive, remember?’

You took the ball, tossing it but missing, groaning softly.

You listened to JJ try to tell you angles you needed to throw the ball, his hand on your back as he gestured to the cups.

“No, you need to throw it at like, a 75 degree angle.”

“That’s no—… you’ve never even won beer pong, stop trying to tell me how to win.”

The guy on the other side of the table threw the ball, making it into one of your back cups. You shot the guy a look, taking the ball from the cup and chugging the warm beer.

You put your hand on the table, doing mental math that added up to nothing, and threw the ball, making it in and winning.

The people around you cheered, JJ immediately going to shit talk the dude at the end of the table.

You pushed through the crowd of people, wanting a drink that wasn’t warm beer, but was pulled aside.

You looked up, your eyes meeting Rafe Cameron’s irritated gaze.

“Is that what you want to be?” He practically growled, pushing you down a hallway, “‘Cause I’ll fuck you like were married tonight, baby.”