The countdown to midnight was deafening, the party at the Cameron mansion in full swing. People laughed, cheered, and clinked champagne glasses, filling the grand room with an electric energy. You weren’t exactly in the party mood, though, and leaned against the railing of the patio overlooking the ocean, trying to get some air.

“Figured you’d be sulking out here,” Rafe’s voice cut through the night, smooth yet laced with the usual smugness.

You rolled your eyes before even turning to face him. “Happy New Year to you too, Rafe. Aren’t you busy entertaining your fan club?”

Rafe smirked, stepping closer, the scent of alcohol strong on him. His blazer was slightly crooked, and his hair was a mess, as if he’d run his hands through it too many times. “They’re boring. You, on the other hand…”

“Save it,” you cut him off, crossing your arms. “Why are you out here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorted, leaning against the railing beside you. “Don’t tell me no one asked you for the midnight kiss? Tragic.”

“Like I’d let anyone here kiss me,” you shot back, though your cheeks betrayed you by warming slightly.

He tilted his head, looking at you with a drunken mix of amusement and intrigue. “Not even me?”

You scoffed. “I’d rather kiss a fish.”

“Cold,” he muttered, but his grin didn’t waver. He took a step closer, invading your space. “But you’re still standing here talking to me, aren’t you?”

The sound of the countdown began, the partygoers shouting together. “Ten… Nine…”

“Go find someone else to bother, Rafe,” you warned, though your tone lacked its usual venom.

“Six… Five…”

He smirked, looking down at you as if daring you to push him away.

“Three… Two…”

Before you could respond, his hand was on your waist, and his lips crashed against yours as the clock struck twelve. The cheers and fireworks went off behind you, but your brain short-circuited as Rafe pulled you flush against him, his mouth dominating yours.

When he pulled back, his lips curled into a smug grin.