SEVEN

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"So, Kelce, you got everything set?" Rafe inquires, his hand gliding through his hair in a gesture of anticipation.

The slight movement make a couple of pieces fall to the side of his face, giving it a more messy appearance.

Kelce... Kelce is his name, I repeat in my head, letting myself get used to it. I was in fact close.

"Yeah yeah, man. It's all set downstairs," Kelce responds, his voice steady, yet a subtle unease lingering beneath the surface.

That's was weird.

His words seemed confident, but his demeanor betrayed a hidden layer of uncertainty, a hint of something unresolved.

But before I could think too hard, I snapped out of my thoughts as I notice Kelce glance towards Rafe, followed by a quick nod in my direction.

I furrowed my brow, a seed of suspicion taking root in my mind:

What was that for? What silent conversation was passing between them and why is it suddenly revolving around me.

I couldn't shake the feeling that his body language was hinting at a silent debate regarding my role in their plans.

The nod felt too personal, and given the topic of their discussion, it seemed to revolve around either my readiness or my age.

I didn't need to wait long before I found out I was spot on with my theory. I saw Rafe's expression shift to one of annoyance, his eyebrows furrowing.

It was a clear indication that Rafe didn't appreciate the implication that Kelce might doubt my maturity.

But it's wasn't even my guess anymore, because suddenly Rafe laid it out plainly. "Oh, cut it out, man. She's coming."

I felt his words were laced with a protective tone, as if he was shielding his reputation from any perceived threats, which make no sense.

Like apparently, killing is all good and justified, but dating a minor is a big no-no, huh?

It was just too much of a double standard to accept, but I wasn't even allowed to voice my thoughts -only his mattered.

And don't even think about arguing with that or you may be strangled.

Kelce let out a quick chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood. "Alright, bring your girlfriend along. But hey, don't blame me if she can't handle it."

As soon as he finished his sentence, I found myself glancing over at the tall blonde to see Rafe's reaction,

and that's when it struck me just how often I catch myself doing that. It's starting to become a bad habit.

Rafe appeared visibly irritated by the comment, even though I didn't think Kelce meant it seriously—or at least, that's what I hoped.

I also noticed the way Rafe leaned against the wall, swaying slightly, a clear indication that his recent drinks were starting to affect him.

That could explain the whole pool incident, the ghost kiss.

I watched his eyes dart between Kelce and me, and I couldn't help but wonder; are Rafe better with a few drinks, or worse?

I mean, he wasn't exactly tipsy when he had that knife pointed at me, so that kind of proves it, doesn't it?

Drunk Rafe is at least a bit better, but then again, who really knows what goes on in his twisted mind when he's had a few too many.

The uncertainty and discord between them were so intense, almost touchable.

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⏰ Last updated: Nov 18 ⏰

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