With a sigh, Rafe leaned against the counter across from you. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass before taking a slow sip, his eyes never leaving you. He felt how you shifted under the heat of his gaze, like he was making you nervous. He smirked, he enjoyed watching the effect he had on you. You’d never admit it to him, but the way your body reacted, betrayed you.

You nervously took a slow sip from your cup, grateful to have something to do with your hands. You didn’t understand why Rafe Cameron affected you like this. Boys never got to you this way. Boys were for fun. They flocked to you, and it was all easy and meaningless. But when Rafe looked at you, it felt charged. It felt like if you went there with him, you’d be in danger of falling. Like it would mean something, and that scared you. You pushed your hair behind your ear absentmindedly.

Rafe’s eyes moved to your neck when he caught the movement of your hand. He narrowed his eyes, zeroing in on a mark on your soft, perfect skin. Was that a hickey? He wanted to lean closer, he wanted to press his fingers against the mark. More than anything he wanted to push you against the counter, press his lips over the mark and make a mark of his own.

Jealousy. It burned hot and bright inside him, and he gripped his glass so hard his knuckles turned wet. Who had touched you? Who had you let get that close to you? Didn’t you knew he was the one that should be marking you and making you his? He glares at the offending mark and before he can stop himself, he finds himself opening his mouth to demand answers.

“You have a hickey” he growls out, and you reach up to the spot on your neck, your hand resting lightly against it.

“I..uh, yeah. I guess I do” you reply, tossing your hair and fixing him with a confident stare. You drop your hand from your neck, and it’s quickly replaced by his fingers as he traces the outline.

“Did you enjoy it?” He asks, his fingers still moving over your skin in a way that unsettles you.

“I..” you shake your hand, indicating it was just okay. “It was fine.” Fine was probably overselling it. You hadn’t enjoyed the encounter upstairs that had led to the hickey.

“You shouldn’t settle for fine” he says firmly, spitting out the word fine like it personally offends him. He trails his fingers down your neck before dropping them and staring intently into your eyes.

“If you ever want more than fine, you know where to find me”