The sun was just starting to set as you heard the rumble of Rafe’s motorcycle pull into his driveway. Sitting on his porch, you wrapped your arms around your legs, pulling your knees up to your chin. There was no more time to second guess if coming over was a good idea or a drunken mistake. In a few seconds he’d be face to face with you. And all the tears, all the anger, all the heartbreak from your past would hang in the air between the two of you.

You can see when he notices you, his body stiffens and he pauses mid step. Shaking his head, he tightens his jaw and keeps walking. For a moment it looks like he’s going to walk past you, like he’s just going to go inside and leave you out there on his porch. But then he stops and looks down at you gesturing for you to stand up, waiting for you to say why you’re there.

“Hi. How was your day?” You want to hit yourself in the head when you say that. It’s stupid, and aloof and doesn’t in anyway convey any of your complicated emotions. It comes off flippant, and you can see he thinks so, because his eyes darken.

“My day?” He scoffs, his eyes roaming over you before settling back on your eyes. “My day was good. I spent it with Kiara.” He pauses, watching the way your eyes widen in confusion, and then he goes in for the kill. “We’ve been seeing each other”

You reel back, feeling like you’ve been hit. That hurt. You could tell yourself you had no right to be hurt, but it wouldn’t change the feeling. Of all the girls he could’ve taken up with after you, he had to pick her. The girl you’d always compared yourself to and come up short. The girl you’d always known he’d had a thing for.

“Oh. You and Kie. That’s good. That’s really good. You two are a couple. So you’re happy. You and her” you babble, not even certain about what words are coming out of your mouth right now.

He frowns, surprised by your reaction. He’d expected anger, tears. He’d said it because he’d wanted a reaction from you. He’d wanted you to scream at him, to cry to fall back into the old pattern that existed between the two of you that made him feel alive, in spite of how twisted it was. But you were quiet, stringing together a simple, slightly drunken response, that only made him feel the barest hint of guilt.

“Princess?” He asks with a scowl, stepping closer to you. His hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you closer in spite of himself. He knows he should be putting distance between you, but he also wants you close. There’s a sense of satisfaction that rolls through him when he hears the way your breath hitches from his touch.

“The whole time we were together, were you just bidding your time until you could be with her?”

His grip loosens a little on your arm, surprise flickering across his face at your question. And then annoyance, anger even, takes it’s place.

“Is that what you think? That you were a consolation prize?”