You were sitting on the kitchen counter, deep in your thoughts while sipping a glass of wine and staring into nothing. Rafe was in your thoughts again. He shouldn’t be there. You shouldn’t be thinking of him.

A few months ago, you broke up. It was messy, toxic, and full of heat. But still, you couldn’t get him out of your thoughts.

You knew he was probably talking to another girl now — some bartender called Sofia. Sarah told you this, but she also said that they weren’t dating yet.

You found yourself thinking back about the time with him because even when it was messy and toxic, you had loved him with all your heart, and so did he. As your thoughts drifted to him, you felt your vision get blurry and the tears started to spill.

So you grabbed your phone and dialed a familiar number. His number.

It took a few rings for him to pick up, but when he did, your heart started beating a little faster.

“Hello?” his voice was rough and gruff over the phone.

“Rafe, it’s me,” you said quietly and took a deep breath. “Can you come over?”

“I’m on my way,” that’s all he said before he hung up.

It was always like this. One of you would think too much about the other, feel bad, or cry, call, and the other would come over for something intimate before leaving again, just as you both agreed.

It was always the same. For months, you had been messing around, thinking that every time either of you felt sad, being together like that would somehow make everything better.

About half an hour later, you heard a soft knock on the door, then another, sharper one.

You opened the door and looked straight into his eyes, which were filled with a hint of desire and hunger. For the first few minutes, you sat on the couch and said something until he cut you off with a kiss.

The kiss was messy, heated, and desperate, like you were both holding onto something you shouldn’t. His tongue tangled with yours, and he let a moan escape his throat. You climbed into his lap, straddling him. When he grabbed your hips, you started to rock against him.

It didn’t take long until he stood up, his hands going to the back of your thighs as he walked into your bedroom. When he laid you down on the bed, his clothes were gone in an instant, and yours joined his clothes on the floor.

He pinned your hands above your head, his hands tangled with yours as he pushed inside you, and you both let out a deep moan. His movements were uncontrolled and raw, his chest pressed against yours as he claimed your lips in another kiss.

With your breaths tangled together, uneven and shaky, it felt like the world outside didn’t exist anymore.

Minutes later, he collapsed against you, chest heaving, breaths ragged, and both of your hearts still beating fast, letting the silence speak for what words never could.

Everything between you seemed fixed. But then he pulled back, stood up, and looked down at you.

“I better go now,” he said flatly and started to pull his clothes back on.