You stand in front of the mirror, your hands shaking so badly that you nearly drop your necklace for the third time. The deep green dress fits you perfectly, but you can’t stop obsessing over every little detail—your hair, your makeup, even the way your heels feel slightly too high. Your stomach churns with a mix of dread and anticipation, and you can’t shake the thought that you’re going to embarrass yourself in front of everyone. Tonight isn’t just any night; it’s the first big event you’ll attend with Rafe Cameron, and the pressure feels suffocating. What if they don’t like you? What if you say something wrong? Your mind races with every worst-case scenario.

“Are you seriously still freaking out?” Rafe’s voice startles you, and you whip around to see him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed and an amused look on his face. “It’s just a party, not a courtroom.” His tone is sharp, but there’s a trace of softness buried beneath it. You open your mouth to respond, but all you can manage is a shaky breath. Rafe sighs, stepping closer, his sharp blue eyes scanning your face. “You’re overthinking this, as usual,” he mutters, reaching out to fix a strand of your hair. The casualness of the gesture makes your chest tighten even more.

the way he was acting , not really seeming to care kind of pissed you off a little. but you just tried to ignore it. he just never knew about your social anxiety.

By the time you step into the party, you’re nearly trembling. The room feels impossibly crowded, the hum of laughter and conversation overwhelming. You cling to Rafe’s arm, your heart racing so fast it feels like it might burst. “I can’t do this,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the noise. Rafe stops, turning to you with an exasperated expression. “You’re fine,” he says.

but are you though.