Parties had never really been Rafe’s scene. If he did go, it was for the alcohol or a line, and well, you. He was the complete opposite of you, and that’s why he liked- no, loved you. It seemed whenever he was on the verge of doing something stupid, one smile or the curl of your fingers in his calmed him down.

Perhaps not this time. He wasn’t sure yet. The Pogues had been hosting a keg party, and Rafe and Topper were there, talking, with you by his side to keep him from glaring at anyone.