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𝐈 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 between a sleek black Mercedes and a matte gray Lamborghini, their glossy exteriors gleaming under the driveway's lights. It was a battlefield of wealth, each car screaming for attention louder than the last. Adriana, seated beside me, was already touching up her lipstick, her fur coat draped dramatically over her shoulders.
I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, running a hand through my hair before applying another layer of Dior lip gloss. Perfect.
My denim mini skirt clung to me in all the right ways, and my cropped top revealed just enough to keep things interesting—not too much, of course. A cropped leather jacket and black boots completed the look.
Adriana stepped out of the car with her usual flair, her plain black dress fitting her like a glove and her heels clicking against the pavement as if announcing her arrival. Together, we walked up the stairs to the house, already drawing attention. People loitering outside turned to greet us with nods and smiles—faces I vaguely recognized from school or social media, but no one I cared about.
My thoughts drifted as we reached the door, wondering if he was here.
And then I saw him.
He was in the middle of the living room chaos, a bottle in his hand, head tipped back as he downed the entire thing in one go. Cheers erupted around him, the crowd hyping him up as the liquid spilled down his chin, but he didn't care. His black hoodie hung loosely on his frame, his laughter low and rough as he tossed the empty bottle aside.
My stomach tightened. He looked annoyingly good, and I hated how I noticed every little thing about him.
"King Cameron has finally shown his real side!" someone shouted, slapping him on the back.
Rafe grinned, basking in the attention. But the moment his eyes locked onto mine, it was as if the rest of the room ceased to exist.
He moved through the crowd like it was nothing, his steps slow and deliberate. Within seconds, he was standing in front of me, his height forcing me to tilt my head to meet his gaze.
"Rafe Cameron is a party animal," I teased, shoving my hands into the pockets of my skirt, hoping he couldn't see how fast my pulse was racing. "Who would've thought?"
A slow smirk spread across his face. "Not just an animal at parties, love."
My cheeks burned, but I refused to let it show. "Proof?" I shot back, keeping my tone playful.
He leaned in slightly, the smell of alcohol and his cologne making my head spin. "What was that, sweetheart?"
He'd heard me. He just wanted to tease.
Rolling my eyes, I grabbed his hand before he could get the upper hand. "I want a drink. Let's go."
I didn't wait for him to answer, tugging him toward the kitchen. And the best part? He let me.
The kitchen buzzed with activity, but my focus was on the glass of red liquor in my hand. It was sweet, the kind of drink that masked how strong it really was. I took another sip, letting the burn trail down my throat as I leaned against the counter.
Rafe, on the other hand, stood across from me, leaning lazily against the kitchen island. His dark eyes traced over me in a way that made my skin heat, though I refused to show it.
"Your tits are practically spilling out of that shirt," he said suddenly, his voice low and sharp. "If you can even call it a shirt. Just a piece of fabric."
I raised an eyebrow, watching his jaw tighten. His possessiveness was impossible to miss, and I hated how much I liked it.
"You don't like it?" I asked, setting my drink down and stepping closer, daring him.
"You look like a slut, Catalina."
His words weren't even an answer, but the hardness in his tone made me smirk.
"A good-looking slut or a bad-looking slut?" I teased, letting my gaze linger on his clenched jaw.
He exhaled sharply, his eyes narrowing. "Maybe I should keep going," I added with a shrug, pretending to glance around the room. "Perhaps another guy would talk to me without being so mean."
I turned to leave, taking one step before his hand shot out and grabbed my arm. He pulled me back so quickly I nearly stumbled, and suddenly, we were chest to chest.
"Sucks to be him," Rafe said darkly, his voice steady and low. "You're talking to me. And don't act like me being mean doesn't make you hot and flustered. You're an open book to me, Catalina."
His words sent a shiver through me, but I refused to let him win. Laughing softly, I leaned in close, just enough to whisper, "You wish."
The tension between us crackled, so thick it was almost tangible. But before it could go any further, Adriana's voice cut through the moment.
"There you two are!" she called, her heels clicking on the tiled floor as she strode in with Lucas trailing behind her.
I stepped back, adjusting my top casually, refusing to let her—or Rafe—see how breathless I felt.
"Do you guys want to play truth or dare?" Adriana asked, her eyes flicking between us suspiciously before landing on me.
Before I could answer, she grabbed my hand, yanking me toward the living room.
"Adriana," I started, but she was already dragging me into a circle of people lounging on plush cushions, laughing and drinking.
