You being a Pogue and him a Kook, no one would’ve believed you two could even stand each other, let alone sneak around together. Rafe was everything you weren’t — tall, handsome, and “bad” as much say. You were sweet, younger, and way too Pogue for his world. He wasn’t the dating type either. Yet here you were, catching feelings neither of you would admit to.

One night, you were at his house. A movie played in the background, but all you could focus on was how warm he felt beside you. Your head rested on his shoulder, his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. Oh, God, his biceps felt good. Everything felt easy— until his hand shifted to your thigh.

His fingers brushed against your skin, casual at first, but as the minutes passed, he moved higher. Your heart raced, and when you gasped softly at his touch, you could feel his smirk. You tried to play it cool, tilting your head up to look at him.

His gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, sending butterflies straight to your stomach. You wanted to kiss him, but hesitation crept in. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The Pogues would hate you for it, and the Kooks? They’d never let him live it down.

Sensing your hesitation, Rafe reached up, tilting your chin to face him. His thumb grazed your bottom lip, soft and deliberate.

“No one has to know what we do,” he whispered, his voice low and certain.

And just like that, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was slow at first, but you melted into him in seconds. His hand tangled in your hair while the other stayed firm on your thigh, holding you close. The tension left your body as you gave in completely.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, your foreheads rested together. Rafe’s lips curved into a smile—soft, genuine, like he’d never smiled at anyone else before. You couldn’t help but smile back, forgetting everything else for a moment.

Nothing else mattered.