You didn’t even realize it.

You were curled up on the couch at the Chateau, sun-dazed and half-listening as Pope and JJ argued about who cheated at poker last night. Sarah sat cross-legged on the floor near you, leaning against Cleo while Kiara scrolled through her phone. Everything was chill—until JJ’s gaze landed on you.

He squinted. “That hoodie’s not yours.”

Your heart did a weird skip.

You looked down. The oversized navy hoodie hung off your frame, the sleeves too long, the fabric worn in and warm with a scent that wasn’t yours—clean soap and something darker. Rafe.

Shit. You forgot you were still wearing it.

“It’s just… a hoodie,” you mumbled, pulling at the sleeve.

“No, no, no,” Sarah said, sitting up straighter. “Where’d you get that? That is not your style.”

Kiara looked over. “That’s, like… Kook expensive.”