The music was deafening, thumping through the warm summer air as you stepped onto the beach. It was already packed, Kooks everywhere, obviously. This was Topper’s party, after all. But the Pogues were here too, of course they were. They never could stay out of trouble.

You were cool with most of them. You didn’t care much about the whole Kooks versus Pogues thing. It was pointless drama. The only person here you truly hated was Rafe.

You couldn’t even remember exactly when the hatred started. Maybe it was when he destroyed your brand-new bike when you were six and laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen. Maybe it was the way he always had to win. Or maybe it was just him, his cocky smirk, that arrogant walk, the way he acted like he owned the world.

Whatever it was, the feeling was mutual. You couldn’t stand him, and he made it abundantly clear the sentiment was returned.

You stood off to the side, half-shadowed by a palm tree, sipping a drink that had long since gone warm. Watching. The fire crackled in the distance. The beach pulsed with movement and noise. That’s when JJ approached, shirt half-unbuttoned, hair a mess, and a tipsy grin plastered across his face.

“Hey, beautiful,” he slurred, leaning just a bit too close.

You turned your head toward him, eyebrow raised. “You’re drunk.”

JJ grinned, unfazed, and rested his hand on your hip. “Not drunk enough to miss how absolutely gorgeous you look tonight.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

He winked, clearly pleased with himself, but the moment was short-lived. John B’s voice called his name from somewhere down the beach, and with a lazy wave goodbye, he disappeared into the crowd again.

You turned back to your drink, content with the brief distraction, when a voice behind you pierced through the night like a cold gust of wind.

“That’s what we’re doing now? Flirting with Pogues?” Rafe said, leaning against a palm tree a few feet away. “Didn’t know you were taking applications to join them.”

You didn’t turn around. You just took a slow sip from your cup.

“Didn’t know you were stalking me tonight,” you shot back. “New hobby?”

He chuckled, dark and soft. “Relax. I was just passing by.”

“Of course you were.” You turned to face him, crossing your arms. “You always seem to ‘just pass by’ when I’m around.”

He smirked, pushing off the tree and stepping closer. “Maybe you’re the one following me.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Trust me, Rafe, I’d rather get hit by a truck than follow you anywhere.”

He was closer now, close enough that you could smell his cologne: expensive and irritatingly good. His gaze scanned your face, lingering a beat too long.

“You looked real cozy with JJ,” he said casually. Too casually.

You didn’t respond right away, just raised your eyebrows, feigning surprise. “Was that… jealousy?”

He scoffed. “Please.”

“Because it sounded a lot like jealousy.”

“Because it’s pathetic,” he snapped. “Hanging off some idiot. He doesn’t give a shit about you.”

You took a slow step toward him. “But you do?”

His jaw clenched. He looked away for a brief second before returning his gaze to you. He didn’t answer at first.

There it was. That flash in his eyes. The part of him he tried to hide, the part that was almost soft, vulnerable.

“I just think you shouldn’t talk to him that often, okay?”

“That’s funny,” you said. “For someone who claims to hate me, you sure spend a lot of time watching who I talk to.”

He stared at you, hard. “I don’t hate you.”

Your breath caught, not because of what he said, but because of how he said it. Like it hurt. Like he’d been trying to convince himself otherwise for a while now.

You blinked, and he looked away, jaw tight.

“I just wish I did.”