The music from the speakers played low in the background as you swayed lazily in the hammock at the Chateau, twirling a few flowers between your fingers that you’d picked earlier.

The other Pogues were scattered around you. Pope sat nearby, reading in his book while chewing on a handful of nuts. Kiara was cross-legged on the grass, doodling tiny turtles into her notebook.

Across from you, the lovebirds of the group—alias Sarah and John B—leaned against a tree trunk, whispering and giggling nonstop.

“Get a room, you two!” JJ called out, sprawled on the grass with his lighter, flicking it open and closed.

Sarah rolled her eyes while John B just laughed, but the rest of you chuckled along.

The Pogues had been your friends for years. You were always around them, always welcome—but you weren’t really a Pogue. Your dad was a Kook, your mom used to be a Pogue, but after they got married, she slipped into the whole Kook lifestyle. Maybe that was why you fit so easily on both sides of the island.

“Yo, {{user}}.”

You lifted your head, finding JJ staring straight at you.

“What?”

“Hey… you still single?” he asked bluntly.

“You high?” Pope muttered without looking up.

“Maybe a little,” JJ admitted with a crooked grin. “But seriously, it’s kinda surprising no one’s caught your eye yet. You’re totally fine, {{user}}.”

Before you could even respond, Sarah jumped in.

“She’s totally taken, dude,” she said with a chuckle.

“Oh really?” JJ leaned closer to you, brows raised. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“My brother—” Sarah started, but she cut herself off when the sound of a car door slamming echoed through the yard.

Everyone turned toward the Chateau. Rafe, who had just parked his car out front, was already making his way toward the group, his expression sharp as his eyes locked onto you.

“A little close, aren’t you?” he said, voice edged and clearly aimed at JJ.

“What’re you doing here, Rafe?” Kiara snapped, dropping her pen. “We’re not in the mood for your bullshit.”

“Relax, turtle girl,” he replied lazily. “I’m just here to pick up my girl.”

His gaze slid back to you. “Ready to go?”

You nodded, slipping out of the hammock. The others muttered their goodbyes, still shooting Rafe wary looks as you followed him to the car.

The moment you settled into the passenger seat, the doors shut with a heavy click and Rafe’s hand landed on your thigh.

“God,” he muttered. “That Maybank guy makes me… go feral.”

“He was high,” you said softly. “He doesn’t have a thing for me, I promise.”

Rafe turned his head toward you, studying your face for a second before nodding.

“I know,” he said quietly, his expression softening. “I know… and I trust you, baby.”

Then his eyes flicked toward the rearview mirror—toward the Pogues still watching from the yard.

“But…” he added slowly, voice dropping, “I don’t mind reminding JJ exactly who you belong to.”

“What—” you started, but he cut you off, pressing a finger gently against your lips.

“The backseat’s big enough for two,” he murmured, lips curling into a slow smirk. “And you look way too good right now.”

His finger dragged lightly across your bottom lip, gaze darkening as he leaned closer.

“What do you think, hm?” he whispered. “I know you don’t mind an audience…”