You and Rafe were never a thing. Not officially, at least.

It was all about the hooking up, stolen kisses in crowded bathrooms, and whispered promises that didn’t mean much.

But somewhere along the way, it started feeling like more.

The way he’d make sure you got home safe, how he’d stare at you like you were the only girl in the room, and the unspoken rule that you were exclusive. It wasn’t just a hookup anymore, at least not to you.

That was the problem.

You weren’t supposed to catch feelings. You agreed it was casual, just for fun, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

You were sitting on Rafe’s couch, trying to figure out how to say this. He was in the kitchen pouring drinks like he didn’t have a care in the world, while you were overthinking every little thing.

You were glad for the alcohol—you were definitely going to need it.

When he finally came back, handing you a glass of wine, you didn’t even take a sip. You just blurted it out.

“Rafe, I don’t want this anymore. I want something serious.”

He paused, wine glass halfway to his lips, before letting out a cold laugh. But when his eyes flicked back to yours and he saw you weren’t joking, his expression shifted.

“Like.. a relationship?” he asked, his tone dripping with disbelief.

You swallowed hard, nodding.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just leaned back. When he finally spoke, his voice was low. “Are you ready to cry? Cause I’m no good.”

You blinked. “No good?”

He sighed and downed his drink in one go, his jaw tightening as he set the glass on the coffee table.

“I’m an awful guy, and I’m always away.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words died in your throat.

“I’m trying to say…” He trailed off, his blue eyes serious. “I’m a piece of shit. Believe in this.”

You froze, not knowing what to say.

His words hit hard. You’d heard it before. “He’s trouble. He’ll ruin you.” But you’d always brushed it off. They didn’t see the side of him that you did.

But now? You weren’t sure what to believe.