The heat of the midday sun warmed your skin as you lay stretched out on a lounger by the Cameron’s pool, sunglasses perched on your nose, a tiny bikini soaking up the rays. Rafe was beside you, one arm draped lazily over his stomach, the other reaching blindly for his drink. His fingers grazed yours before he finally grabbed it, bringing it to his lips with a smirk.

“You keep looking at me like that, baby, and I’m gonna think you want something,” he muttered, voice dripping with amusement.

You turned your head slightly, peeking at him from behind your shades. “Maybe I do.”

His smirk deepened, and he pushed himself up onto his elbows, his gaze dragging over your sun-kissed skin. “Yeah? And what exactly do you want?”

Before he could respond, the sound of heavy footsteps made you tense slightly.

“Rafe.”

Ward’s voice cut through the lazy afternoon, and you didn’t even need to look up to know his expression—tight, unimpressed, already judging.

“Jesus,” Rafe muttered under his breath, taking a long sip of his drink before finally glancing over. “What?”

Ward barely acknowledged him before his eyes landed on you. A flicker of disapproval crossed his face as he took in your barely-there bikini, the way you lounged so comfortably in his home.

“You sure you don’t have anywhere better to be?” he asked, tone polite, but laced with something sharper. “It feels like you’re always here.”

You pressed your lips together, your fingers twitching slightly against the armrest of the lounger. You knew better than to take the bait, but it still stung.

Rafe, however, didn’t have that kind of restraint. His jaw tensed. “She is always here. Because she’s my girlfriend.”

Ward hummed, glancing away like he was bored of the conversation already. “I just wonder if you’re with him for the right reasons,” he mused. “You’ve certainly made yourself comfortable here. Must be nice.”

Rafe shot up so fast his chair scraped against the stone. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”