You were just putting the finishing touches on your makeup when you heard the door creak open behind you. You barely acknowledged it, focused on your reflection, adjusting your outfit in the mirror.
But Rafe? He was frozen.
Completely, utterly frozen.
His jaw literally dropped. Like in a way that would’ve been comical if he didn’t look so downright wrecked by the sight of you.
“Holy shit.”
You turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”
Rafe blinked, like he was trying to process words, but nothing came out. His eyes dragged down your body, slow and deliberate, like he was taking in every single detail and trying to memorize it. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and his hand found the doorframe, like he physically needed the support.
“What?” you repeated, starting to feel self-conscious under his intense stare.
His voice came out rough, almost strained. “You’re—fuck—you’re unreal.”
A slow grin tugged at your lips. “You like it?”
Rafe let out a low, breathy laugh, finally pushing off the doorframe and making his way toward you. His hands landed on your waist, firm and possessive, his fingers slipping just under the fabric of your dress.
”‘Like it’ isn’t even close, baby.” His voice was thick with something dark, something hungry. His eyes burned as they met yours. “We’re really still going out?”
You smirked, pushing lightly at his chest. “Yes, we are.”
He groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder dramatically. “I’m gonna spend the whole night fighting the urge to take you home.”
You just laughed, but his grip on you tightened. He lifted his head, blue eyes smoldering as he murmured against your skin, “I swear to God, if anyone looks at you too long, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”