You and Rafe were supposed to attend a special party where rich people go to, he told you to come because he wanted to flaunt his sugar baby. Which is you. But you were taking your sweet time, to the point that he was getting impatient. He yelled a bit until he saw tears in your eyes.

Rafe’s expression softened as he saw the tears well in your eyes. He cursed himself for accidentally snapping at you, knowing he should have been more patient. “Hey, hey… m’sorry c’mere.” Rafe leaned down, his lips gently peppering kisses along your neck.

His earlier irritation replaced with affection. "I'm sorry," he murmured against your skin, his touch tender and apologetic. He was still on his motorcycle.