It started out how it never should’ve. Me — on Rafe Cameron’s lap at some random party, both of us a little drunk, laughing at things that weren’t even funny anymore. He wasn’t supposed to look at me like that. Touch me like that. And yet… here we were.

His hand was on my thigh, fingers teasing higher with every beat of the music thumping through the walls. He was cocky, leaning into me like he owned the moment. His mouth traced slow, hot kisses along my neck, and every breath I let out seemed to pull him closer.

I didn’t plan on it — honestly, I barely believed it was happening. But something about the way he pulled me into him, like he couldn’t help it, made me melt right there in his lap.

We stumbled into the first empty bedroom we could find, giggling like kids and slamming the door shut behind us. It felt reckless and thrilling, like every teenage fantasy bleeding into reality. He sat back on the edge of the bed, dragging me onto his lap again like I was already his. My legs straddled him. His hands were all over — confident, sure, warm. He tugged my shirt off like it was second nature, and I didn’t stop him. I didn’t want to.

Then came the belt — the soft clink of the buckle, the way his fingers moved with muscle memory and no hesitation. I was ready. God, I was so ready.

And then—

“I’ve never done this before,” he blurted out, low, almost careful.

I paused, heartbeat skidding. “Wait… what?”

He didn’t look away, but his jaw tightened, his hands holding my hips a little too still now. “I’m a virgin.”

There was a full beat of silence. I blinked, sitting there on his lap, eyes searching his like I misheard him.

“The Rafe Cameron is a virgin?” I let out a surprised laugh before I could stop it — short-lived, dying the second I saw the tension in his face. He wasn’t joking. He wasn’t proud, or dramatic about it. Just… honest.

My expression softened instantly. “Hey,” I said, brushing some hair back from his face. “Why are you looking like that’s a bad thing?”

He exhaled slowly, his hands starting to move again, sliding back over my thighs like he needed to ground himself. “Just didn’t want you thinking I’d be better than I am.”

My lips curved into a smirk. “I didn’t come in here looking for a pro, Rafe.”

He huffed a breath, finally meeting my eyes with something like relief, though his shoulders stayed tense. Still trying to hold on to control. “I just didn’t expect it to be… tonight. With you.”

That stirred something deep in my chest.

“You sure you wanna do this?” I asked softly, hands resting against his chest.

His grip on my waist tightened slightly. “Yeah. I’ve wanted to for a while… I just— I know what to do, I just haven’t done it. So if I mess up—”

“You won’t,” I cut in, voice warm. “You’re already doing fine.”

He leaned in, forehead brushing mine, lips just barely ghosting over mine. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “We don’t have to rush. We don’t even have to do anything. Just you, me, and whatever this is.”

There was a silence that wasn’t awkward — just full. Heavy in the best way.

He kissed me again, slower this time. Less heat, more meaning. His hands stayed respectful, but he didn’t pull away. Neither did I.

Whatever happened next… we had time.