The shop was dead quiet except for the buzz of the lights. My hands were shaking as I slipped the six-pack into my bag, trying to act casual. Just a couple beers, a bag of chips—nothing major. My heart always raced doing this, but it was normal. That’s what it meant to be a pogue.

Then a voice cut through the silence.

“Well, well. Look what we have here.”

I froze. The hairs on my neck stood up. Slowly, I turned—and there he was. Rafe Cameron. Arms crossed, eyes locked on me with that cold, sharp look that made me feel like I’d been caught with blood on my hands.

My mouth went dry. “Rafe…”

He stepped closer, smirk tugging at his lips. “Stealing, huh? That’s brave.” His voice dropped, smooth and taunting. “Or stupid.”

I swallowed hard, panic creeping into my chest. “It’s just beer.”

Rafe raised a brow. “Doesn’t matter what it is. Theft’s theft. Clerk’s right there.” He nodded toward the counter. “I could tell him right now. Watch you get dragged out of here, maybe even booked. Cops love throwing pogues in the backseat, don’t they?”

My heart hammered. “Don’t,” I said quickly, voice trembling more than I wanted.

He tilted his head, pretending to think, like he was really considering it. “Why shouldn’t I? Hm?”

“Because—” I stopped, fumbling for words, my throat tight. “Because it’s nothing. Just… please, Rafe.”

That made his smirk deepen. He leaned closer, so close I could feel his breath against my skin. “You know, I almost want to. Just to see the look on your face when they cuff you. Bet your little pogue friends would love that story.”

I flinched, heat rising in my chest—fear, anger, all tangled up. “Please,” I whispered again, hating the way my voice cracked.

For a long, terrible second, he just stared at me, letting me squirm. My stomach twisted so hard it hurt. And then—just like that—he pulled the six-pack out of my bag and tossed it on the counter.

I panicked. “Rafe, don’t—”

But instead of ratting me out, he slipped a sleek black card from his wallet and set it down. “I’ll take it,” he said casually to the clerk, like this was all his idea.

The clerk barely looked up, bagged everything, and handed it over. Rafe grabbed it and shoved it into my chest, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Relax,” he said, almost amused. “You’re safe. For now.”

I stood frozen, clutching the bag like it might disappear. My lips parted, but no words came out.

“Don’t thank me,” he added with a smirk, his voice low, dangerous. “Next time, I might not be so generous.”

And with that, he turned and walked out, leaving me shaken, heart racing, my legs barely steady enough to move.

By the time I slid into the backseat of John B’s car, JJ was already laughing about something, Pope was fiddling with the radio, and John B looked over his shoulder at me.

JJ reached for the bag immediately. “No way you actually pulled it off! Legendary.”

Pope chuckled. “Told you she’d get it. Smooth criminal.”

I just sat there, staring at nothing, clutching the strap of my bag like it was the only thing keeping me grounded.

John B’s smile faded. His brows pulled together as he studied me. “Hey… you okay?”