The champagne, the glitzy dresses, the fake-ass smiles—it all made your skin crawl. But being a Kook meant playing along.

You sighed at your reflection. Emerald dress, high heels. On one wrist, a gold bracelet from Rafe for your 12th birthday. On the other, the orange-and-black wristband that matched JJ’s. Two worlds, colliding on your skin. Two choices, tangled around your wrists. And you weren’t sure which one to let go of.

Tonight was no different from the other Midsummers.

Except for the fact that you weren’t showing up alone.

Rafe Cameron had asked you to be his date, and you’d said yes. Maybe to please your parents. Maybe to prove something to yourself. Maybe, just maybe, because you wanted to see him lose his mind.

Because JJ Maybank would be there too.

Not as a guest. As a waiter.

You stepped into the country club, resting your hand on Rafe’s arm as you wove through the crowd of Kooks. The air was thick with laughter, bourbon, and the scent of expensive cologne. You forced a smile.

And that’s when you felt it.

A stare.

A slow, burning weight on your skin.

Your gaze flicked across the room, and there he was. Back against the bar, jaw set tight, blue eyes locked onto you like a warning. His shirt was unbuttoned a little too low, his bowtie completely missing—probably yanked off the second his manager wasn’t looking. He clenched the tray in his hand so hard you thought it might snap.

Rafe hadn’t noticed him yet.

But JJ?

JJ had been watching.

And then—

A figure moved through the crowd, a blur of motion, and suddenly, JJ was right there.

"Look who we have here," JJ’s voice was smooth, laced with something dangerously close to amusement. But you knew him too well. That wasn’t amusement. That was pure, unfiltered jealousy.

His eyes flicked between you and Rafe, lingering on Rafe’s hand on your waist before snapping back up to meet yours. "Havin’ fun, princess?"

You barely had time to react before Rafe tensed beside you, his grip on you tightening.

And you? you felt torn. As torn as ever.