PANDORA!

[pqndxra]

WELCOME TO PANDORA NATION!

PANDORA! 9TEEN SHE/HER CLUB CLASSICS FUNCTION FANATIC SIMP FOR THE INSANE

GPS!

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INFO!

REQUESTS! are OPEN!

feel free to chat or request! I encourage constructive criticism on all my works but pls don’t be mean or I’ll cry (jk…)

Strikes in the gps mean it’s hasn’t been created yet! coming soon!

credit goes to @zyafics for layout inspo!

[pqndxra]

are you another part to party 4 u?🫶

Yes! There’s one more chapter on it way :)

I’m really shit at writing smut so bear with me on this guys

And if anyone had any tips or anything pls lmk im actually suffering!

[pqndxra]

having him fix the car she had instead of buying a brand new expensive car is the most beautiful thing ever… like it’s so thoughtful…😩😩 kissing ur brain

Kissing you back babe coxoxoxo

I first thought about him buying a new car but He knows how hard she works to save up for stuff obvi, so buying her a new car would kinda just piss her off?

Bc if that was me I would be like ‘wtf that was my car’

[pqndxra]

PARTY 4 U!

PREV CHAPTER 11 NEXT

w/c: 4.1k

SYNOPSIS

Rafe had charm, wealth and a reputation that would turn heads wherever he went. He had never even heard of the word no - until he met her. The one woman he couldn’t buy, couldn’t charm and couldn’t stop thinking about. Now, he’s willing to risk everything to have the one thing he can’t seem to touch. You.

CONTENT

swearing, all characters are over 18 (Reader is 20, Rafe is 21), kinda angst, Rafe gets emotional, Sofia being nosy, kissing, basically grand theft auto

A/N!

omg one more chapter left guys!! I was gonna write some smut, but I genuinely dk how without physically cringing at myself. But TRUST when i say next chapter will get more pg 18 ;)

The next day came and went.

You kept your phone face-up on the kitchen counter the whole morning, checking it every couple of minutes, which you told yourself was just habit and not because you were waiting for anything in particular. 

You made coffee. You read a few chapters of the book you'd been meaning to finish for three weeks. 

By 7 in the evening, you'd accepted it.

He wasn't coming.

Riley found you on the back porch when she got home from a shift, and the look on her face told you she already knew.

"Don't," you said.

"I'm not saying anything."

"Good."

She sat down beside you anyway, tucking her feet under her on the old porch chair, and for a while you both just watched the neighbour's cat pick its way along the fence with grace.

"Maybe something came up," she offered, eventually.

"Maybe," you said “hasn’t stopped him before”

You didn't talk about it again.

The next couple of days were fine. You were completely fine. 

You worked a morning shift at the club, did some spring cleaning that you’ve been putting off for months, went for a run along the water on Wednesday evening because you needed somewhere to put all the restless energy that kept building in your chest whenever you let yourself think about it.

It was fine.

You were fine

You'd told him you really liked him and then walked out of his bedroom and apparently that had been enough to close the whole thing down, which was fine. 

You'd survived worse. you could survive Rafe Cameron deciding things were too complicated after all.

The part that kept nagging at you, the part you couldn't quite settle, was that you'd been so sure. 

Not in a naive way, not in a things-always-work-out way, but in the specific way of having watched someone look at you all night like you were something worth looking at. 

You didn't usually get that wrong.

But then people surprised you. That was the other thing you'd learned.

So, You pushed it down and went to work.

Friday night at the country club meant a late shift, and a late shift meant a particular kind of exhausting that was mostly social rather than physical. 

You were on your feet for ten hours regardless, but it was the sustained pleasantness that got you by the end of it, the relentless politely smiling at people who barely registered you as a person.

You were thirty minutes from the end of your shift when Sofia appeared beside you at the bar.

"Quiet night for you," she observed, reaching past you for the drink glasses.

"I've been busy," you said, keeping your voice even.

"Mmm." She plucked a lime wedge with two fingers. "No visitors?"

You looked at her.

"I'm just making conversation." Her expression was perfectly pleasant in the way that had nothing to do with pleasantness. "Trouble in paradise?"

"Sofia—"

"I'm being serious. You've seemed a little—" she tilted her head slightly, faking concern, "—flat, this week. I just wondered if everything was okay."

"Everything's fine," you said.

"Right. It's just, Rafe Cameron doesn't exactly have the best track record for follow-through, and I know you two were—" she paused delicately, "—talking, or whatever it was."

You turned back to the counter. "I have tables to check on."

 "I mean, come on.” Her voice followed you. “I know it felt like something, but—" another pause, perfectly weighted, "it was probably too good to be true, right?"

You stopped.

"I actually don’t think its any of your business.” you said pleasantly.

Her expression flickered. She opened her mouth, closed it, and then turned back to her own section with the slightly stiff posture of someone who hadn't gotten the reaction they were looking for.

You went back to your tables and didn't think about it.

Twenty-five minutes later you were cashing out your last table, running through the mental checklist of everything you needed to do before you could leave, when the front doors opened.

You heard it the way you always heard things at the end of a long shift, slightly delayed, filtered through exhaustion. Footsteps crossing the entryway. The particular sound of the door swinging back into its frame.

You looked up.

Rafe stood in the doorway.

He was wearing a plain dark shirt, no jacket, hands in his pockets, and he looked slightly uncertain in a way you'd never really seen on him before in this building, where he usually moved through the space like it was built around him.

His eyes found yours immediately. Like he'd already known where you were.

The professional part of your brain kicked in before anything else could.

"Sofia." You didn't look away from him. "Can you take this one? Table four needs their check."

Sofia appeared at your elbow almost immediently and went very still for approximately half a second when she clocked who'd walked in. “Of course!”

You don’t move from your place at the bar, tapping the screen on the register almost robotically. From the corner of your eye, you see Rafe walk pass Sofia dismissively before coming to a stop in front of you

"Sofia will show you to your table." you said. Your voice came out steady, which you were grateful for.

"I'm not here for a table."

You look up at him "Okay," You held his gaze. "But I’m finishing up. Sofia can help you with whatever you need until then."

Something shifted in his expression. "I'm here to see you."

The words landed in the quiet between you.

You didn’t reply, only looking at him for a long moment. The uncertain posture of his shoulders, the way he was watching you with something careful in his eyes that he wasn't bothering to hide.

"Give me five minutes," you said.

It was closer to ten by the time you'd finished your closing tasks, collected your things, and pushed out through the staff exit into the car park. The night was warm and still, the kind of late summer evening that lingered even after dark.

Rafe was waiting outside, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He straightened when he saw you.

"Hey"

"Hey"

You took a deep breath and scanned the car park nervously. Your posture stiffened as You frowned. "Where’s my car?"

"Come with me" he said. "Please"

The confusion must have shown on your face because he just tilted his head slightly in the direction of the path that ran around the side of the building and towards the marina. After a moment you followed him, mostly because you couldn't think of a good reason not to.

The Marinas car park was quiet at this hour, half-empty, lit by two overhead lights that flickered slightly at the edges. You came around the corner and stopped.

Your car was parked under the nearest light.

Except it wasn't your car, not the way you remembered it.

The side mirror was intact, straight and new and fitted properly. The passenger window, the one that had scratches and cracks along the edges, sat flush and clean in the frame. The bodywork was smooth, no tape, the paint even and whole and not a scratch on it. The headlights were replaced. The tyres were new.

You stood and stared at it for a long moment.

"What—" you said.

"I know."

"What did you—" You walked toward it slowly, like it might not be real up close. You ran your hand along the side panel, the smooth unbroken paint under your fingers. "How did you—"

"Riley gave me the spare set of keys. Took me a while to get it working" He was a few steps behind you, voice careful. "She didn't tell you, obviously."

"Obviously," you said faintly.

"I found a place that could do the bodywork and the mechanical stuff. It took a few hours. That's—" He paused. "It was falling apart"

You turned to look at him.

He was standing with his hands in his pockets again, watching you with that same nervous expression from inside, and for a moment you just looked at each other across the quiet car park.

"Rafe," you said. "I’ll pay you back."

"You're not paying me back."

"It would've cost — this would've cost a lot—"

"You're not paying me back," he said again, steady and final.

You turned back to the car. Your chest felt strange and full in a way you didn't quite have words for.

"I don't know what you want me to do" you said quietly. "You can't just—" You stopped. Started again. "You can't buy me off."

"I'm not." He said it immediately, no hesitation. "That's not — that's not what this is."

"Then what is it?"

He was quiet for a moment. When you looked back at him, he was looking at the car rather than at you, jaw slightly tight, like he was choosing his words with more care than usual.

"I'm not good at this," he said. "The—" he made a gesture that seemed to encompass something broader than the car park. " the whole Saying things. Properly."

"Rafe—"

"Topper told me it was some random Pogue's car," he said. "That's what he told me. I didn't know it was yours. I wouldn't have—" He stopped. "It doesn't matter what I would or wouldn't have done, because I was different then, and I can't actually promise you anything about who I was at seventeen. But I know that if I'd known it was yours I would have—" Another pause. "I would have handled it differently."

You said nothing.

"It's a really late apology," he said. "A bad one, probably. I know it doesn't fix anything, and I know it's not” he paused “I know it doesn't mean the same thing now that it did then. But I didn't know how else to do it."

The overhead light flickered once.

"I really like you," he said, quieter now. "I know my name comes with a lot of things attached that aren't—" He exhaled. "I'm not trying to buy you off. I'm trying to tell you that I'm serious about this. About you. And I didn't know how else to say that without—" He gestured at the car.

You looked at him for a long moment.

His hands were still in his pockets. He looked like he was prepared for you to hand this back to him, to tell him it wasn't enough or it was too much or he'd gotten it wrong.

"You fixed my car," you said slowly.

"Yeah."

"As an apology."

"And because—yeah. Mostly that."

Something in your chest that had been sitting cold and heavy for the better part of a week quietly shifted.

"It's a terrible apology," you said.

Something flickered in his expression. "I know."

"It's also the best apology anyone has ever given me, which is either a good thing or a very sad reflection of my life."

The corner of his mouth moved. "I'll take it."

You turned back to look at the car, your hand still resting on the panel. The paint was smooth under your palm. New headlights. Fixed mirror. A car that looked like it was cared for, like it mattered.

"You didn’t know" you said. Not a question this time.

"No," he said. "I really didn't."

You nodded, mostly to yourself

"You should have just come over," you said eventually ”I spent three days thinking I'd scared you off."

"You didn't scare me off." He said it like the idea genuinely hadn't occurred to him. "I was trying to do something right for once. I'm not—" he exhaled quietly. "I'm usually not great at that."

"At doing things right?"

"At doing things right without making them worse first."

You were quiet for a moment. The car park settled around you, just the flicker of the overhead light and the distant sound of the club and the warm still night.

"Okay," you said.

"Okay?"

"Okay," you repeated, turning to look at him properly. "But next time you're trying to apologise, you could also just—text me. Or come over. Or literally anything that doesn't involve me assuming the worst."

"Noted," he said, and he was almost smiling now. "For the record, I basically had to fight Riley for the keys"

"For the record," you repeated, "this is insane."

"I was motivated."

You looked at him. He looked back.

Slowly, you closed the distance between you, and when you stopped in front of him he was very still, like he was being careful not to move too fast in any direction.

You reached out and took the front of his shirt in your hand, loosely, the same way you had three nights ago in his bedroom except this time you didn't step back.

"I really like you too," he said. "For the record."

His exhale was barely audible. His hand came up to your jaw, careful, 

"What now?" you asked.

"Ball's in your court," he said.

You looked at him. He looked back, easy and unhurried, like he had nowhere else to be and wasn't pretending otherwise.

You gulped, hesitating before you admitted the thing you'd been turning over in your chest for days.

"I don't know how to be enough for you," you said.

His expression shifted.

"everyone knows it" You kept your voice level. "You’re five steps ahead, and I'm five behind, and I don't—" You exhaled. "I can't keep up. I don't know how to exist in your world without feeling like I’m holding you back, like everyone's waiting for me to do something that proves I don't belong there." You looked at the space between you. "I don't know how to be enough for you"

Rafe made a short sound that was almost a scoff, and your stomach dropped, because there it was, there was the moment where—

"God," he said, and shook his head.

You braced yourself

"Holding me back?" He said it like the idea was genuinely baffling. "You think that's what I—" He stopped, jaw tightening slightly, and when he looked at you again something in his expression was unguarded in a way you didn't see often. "You pull me back."

You went still.

"I need to be pulled back.  Five steps forward is too much and I can't—" He gestured slightly, imprecise, like he was reaching for words he didn't usually use. "You slow it down. You make me think before I do something stupid. You make me want to." He held your gaze. "I don't need someone who can keep up. I like that you don't. I love that you don't."

The word landed quietly between you.

He seemed to register it a beat after you did, but he didn't take it back. Just looked at you steadily, like he'd meant it and he knew it and that was that.

You didn't say anything.

Instead you took his face in both hands and kissed him, in the middle of an empty car park under a flickering light, with nobody watching and nowhere to be and no performance required from either of you.

He kissed you back like he'd been waiting 

his hand slid around your waist and pulled you towards him, your body pressed against his. 

You pulled him back and He pulled you forward 

When you finally stopped, foreheads resting together, his hands stayed at your waist like they belonged there.

"Y’know" he said after a moment, quiet and slightly sheepish. "I threw the party for you."

"I know," you said.

A beat. "You knew?"

"You’re not subtle. Despite what you think" You leaned back to look at him properly, mouth curving. "It was very obvious."

"I was not obvious."

"Rafe. Twelve hours notice"

He opened his mouth, then closed it. "It was a spontaneous thing! you happened to be invited—"

"It just so happened to be on my day off?"

"That's — those are two unrelated events—"

"Drove to the cut"

"I was being a good host—"

"You were waiting," you said warmly.

He looked at you for a long moment with an expression that was trying very hard to be dignified and not quite getting there. "Yeah, it was obvious" he said finally.

You laughed, and the sound of it felt easy and clean in the warm night air.

"Come over," you said. "Follow me back. I'll drive slowly so you can keep up."

"Ha."

You kissed him once more quickly, just because you could, and then stepped back toward your newly fixed car. "Don't get lost."

"I know where you live" he called after you.

"I know you do."

Your house was empty when you got back,You unlocked the front door and Rafe followed you inside 

"Are you hungry?" you asked, turning to him in the kitchen doorway. Your hands randomly shuffling objects around like they didn't know what to do with themselves. "I can make something, I mean it's late but I could probably—"

"You've fed me every single time I've been here," he said, amused. "You cook when you're nervous."

"That's not—" You stopped. "That's not entirely true."

"Let me."

You stared at him. "Let you what?"

"I can cook."

"Rafe."

"Why is that surprising?"

"Because you grew up with private chefs."

He gave you a look that was somewhere between offended and conceding the point. "I can cook a few things."

"Name one."

"Pasta."

"Plain pasta?"

"My pasta," he said, moving past you into the kitchen with a confidence that you suspected was at least eighty percent performance, "and I know how to grate cheese now"

You leaned against the doorframe, watching him open a cabinet like he'd been in this kitchen a hundred times. "This I have to see."

"You're going to be very embarrassed about your lack of faith," he said, pulling out a pan.

"Am I?"

He turned to look at you over his shoulder, and something in the way he was looking at you made the last of the evening's tension dissolve completely.

"Come here," he said.

You went.

The pan stayed on the counter.

His hands found your waist and yours found his jaw. The kiss started slow and easy and then became something else, something with more weight behind it, all the things that had been building quietly for days finding their direction at once.

you pushed against each other, stumbling back until his back hit the edge of the counter

"Rafe," you said against his mouth.

"Mhm?"

You didn’t reply, leaning up once again to connect your lips. You lightly pulled him backwards, leading him down the hallway and towards your room. 

He followed, his hands wandering over your waist, and towards your hips. He hummed against your mouth when you kicked your door open and pulled him inside

He pulled away, just inside the doorway and looked at you, giving you the same unhurried patience he'd been giving you all night, the question in it quiet and clear.

You reached back and pushed the door softly shut.

TAGLIST!

@rafeysangelbaby @https-suzuki @cokewithcameron @jinxatdawn @lobot0mies4sale @sunsn0w @silkylovey @wiredswanxoxo @ssugartalkin @lynst91

[pqndxra]

party 4 u is AMAZING! u single handed my just brought back life to the rafe cameron au

Ugh I love you

I’m honoured! #BRINGBACKRAFECAMERONAUS

I have to admit I wasn’t sure whether I should continue P4U bc I honestly had no idea where it was gonna go

but seeing msgs like this genuinely makes me melt

I WILL NOT DISAPPOINT GUYS!!

[pqndxra]

ur writing is so good please never stop n i’ll never stop reading it

Thank you sm twin

I love you 🫶

[pqndxra]

PARTY 4 U!

PREV CHAPTER 10 NEXT

w/c: 4.5k

SYNOPSIS

Rafe had charm, wealth and a reputation that would turn heads wherever he went. He had never even heard of the word no - until he met her. The one woman he couldn’t buy, couldn’t charm and couldn’t stop thinking about. Now, he’s willing to risk everything to have the one thing he can’t seem to touch. You.

CONTENT

swearing, all characters are over 18 (Reader is 20, Rafe is 21), Partying, drinking, Rafe kinda being emotionally constipated, topper being a dick, reader talking about how Rafe used to be mean to her in highschool, beer pong, one small kiss, shitty writing, lmk if I missed any

A/N!

i was planning on posting this for Valentine’s Day, but obviously im not good with updating on time

thank you sm to sister from another mister @katefinallyreads-blog for helping me with this chapter.

The party had hit that perfect sweet spot

everyone was buzzing with just enough alcohol to be loose and happy, the music was exactly right, and the energy felt electric. 

You'd been at Tannyhill for a few hours now, and somewhere between the second drink and watching Riley make heart eyes at Kelce across the pool, you'd stopped being nervous and started actually having fun.

Real, genuine fun.

Rafe hadn't left your side since he'd gotten you that first drink, and you weren't complaining. He kept finding excuses to touch you — a hand on the small of your back when guiding you through the crowd, fingers brushing yours when handing you a fresh drink, his arm slung casually around your shoulders when you stood talking to people you barely knew.

It felt natural. Easy. Like maybe you did belong here after all.

"Beer pong!" someone shouted from across the yard, and suddenly there was a surge of movement toward the tables that had been set up near the pool.

"Oh, we're playing," Riley said immediately, grabbing Kelce's hand. "Come on, we need to defend our title."

"What title?" Kelce asked, amused.

"The title I just decided we have. We're undefeated."

"We've never played together—"

"Undefeated," Riley repeated firmly, already pulling him toward the tables.

You looked up at Rafe, eyebrow raised. "Should we?"

"Absolutely." He held out his hand, and you took it without hesitation. "But I should warn you, I'm actually pretty good at beer pong."

"Oh, are you?" You grinned. "Because I should warn you. I'm terrible."

"Even better. Low expectations mean I look like a genius when I carry us to victory."

"Your confidence is astounding."

"I prefer to think of it as realistic self-assessment."

By the time you made it to the beer pong tables, Riley and Kelce were already setting up, arranging cups with the kind of focus usually reserved for much more important tasks. Another couple, a girl you vaguely recognized from the country club and her boyfriend — stood on the opposite side, looking equally determined.

"Okay, house rules," the boyfriend announced. "Re-racks at six, four, and two. Redemption allowed. Bounces count for two but can’t be swatted."

"Got it," Rafe said, rolling up his sleeves. He turned to you, his voice lower. "Okay, strategy time. You take the close shots, I'll take the long ones."

"What if I miss the close shots?"

"Then you’ll have to leave." He said it with such a straight face that it took you a second to realize he was joking.

"Wow. So supportive."

"I'm nothing if not honest." But he was grinning, and when he handed you the first ping pong ball, his fingers lingered on yours just a moment too long to be accidental.

The game started, and you were right, you were pretty terrible. Your first shot bounced off the rim of a cup and went sailing into the pool. Your second didn't even make it to the table.

"Okay, maybe not close shots," Rafe said, wincing. "Maybe just — here, let me show you."

He moved behind you, his chest pressed against your back, his arms coming around to guide yours into position. "You're throwing too hard. It's all in the wrist — light, easy, just a little arc—"

You were supposed to be focusing on his instructions, but all you could think about was how warm he was, how he smelled like expensive cologne and beer, how his breath tickled your ear when he spoke.

"—and then just release. See?"

"Mmm-hmm," you managed, hoping you sounded more coherent than you felt.

"Your turn. Try it."

He stepped back, and you immediately missed his presence. You tried to replicate what he'd shown you, the light arc, the easy release—

The ball sailed through the air and landed directly in the center cup with a satisfying plop.

"Holy shit!" you yelped, jumping slightly. "Did you see that?"

"That's my girl," Rafe said, and the casual way he said it

my girl

it made something warm unfurl in your chest.

The opposing couple groaned good-naturedly, fishing the ball out of their cup and drinking. 

Riley and Kelce cheered from the sidelines where they were waiting for their turn, and suddenly you were actually invested in winning this stupid game.

Rafe, it turned out, was not exaggerating about his beer pong skills. He sank shot after shot with an ease that was frankly unfair, trash-talking the other team with a grin that was more playful than mean.

And whenever you made a shot — which started happening more often once you got the hang of it. he'd celebrate like you'd just won the lottery.

"Okay, okay, redemption round," the girl said when Rafe sank their last cup. "We get one more chance"

"House rules," Rafe confirmed, stepping back to give them room.

They missed. Both shots. And suddenly you and Rafe were the winners, high-fiving with probably too much enthusiasm for a backyard beer pong game.

"Victory tastes sweet," Rafe declared, slinging his arm around your shoulders.

"You did all the work," you pointed out.

"Not true. You provided moral support and also like, three cups."

"Three whole cups. I'm basically a professional."

"Basically," he agreed, and the way he was looking at you, fond and amused and something else, something softer, made you forget that you were standing in the middle of a party surrounded by people.

Riley and Kelce took your place at the table, immediately falling into an argument about strategy that seemed to be more flirting than actual disagreement. 

You and Rafe drifted away, finding a quieter spot near the edge of the yard where the music was less overwhelming.

Rafe was easier to be around than you'd expected. Less of the polished, untouchable Figure Eight heir and more just... him. 

Laughing at your terrible wingman strategies, pretending to take notes when you explained your "twenty minute check-in protocol" for Riley and Kelce, passing you drinks without making it weird.

"Having fun?" Rafe asked, and there was something almost vulnerable in the question, like your answer really mattered to him.

"Yeah," you said honestly. "I really am. This is—it's really nice, Rafe. Thank you for inviting me."

"Of course. I mean, I threw the—" He stopped himself, seeming to reconsider. "I'm glad you're having fun."

You were standing near the edge of the pool, watching two guys you vaguely recognised argue about something that was definitely not worth arguing about, when Rafe's phone buzzed and he glanced down at it with an expression you couldn't quite read.

"Everything okay?" you asked.

"Yeah." He pocketed it. "Topper. I'll be two seconds."

"Take your time," you said easily, and watched him slip into the crowd.

You turned back to the pool, swirling what was left of your drink, feeling pleasantly settled before you decided to top up your cup before Rafe got back. You made your way inside, weaving through the crowds of people.

thats when you heard it

The music was loud, but not loud enough. And Topper's voice carried in a way that suggested he'd had several more drinks since the last time you'd seen him.

"—just saying, what are you doing? Like, what's actually going on with you two?"

You went still.

"Top, drop it—"

"I'm serious, Rafe. She's a Pogue. You could do so much better, come on. I thought you were over this whole—"

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying what everyone's thinking—"

"I said shut up. And I mean it."

Rafe's voice was flat and final in a way that clearly ended the conversation, and you heard Topper mutter something else before the music swelled and swallowed whatever came next.

You made your back to the pool, your empty cup long forgotten about.

She's a Pogue. You could do so much better.

You'd heard variations of that sentence your whole life. In the way store clerks on Figure Eight tracked your movements a beat too long, in the way certain girls had looked at you at Riley's party before deciding you weren't worth acknowledging. 

You were used to it. You were fine with it. The Cut was home and you loved it and you didn't need anyone's approval, least of all Topper Thornton's.

But standing here, at Rafe Cameron's party, in an outfit Riley had personally assembled, with Rafe's hand having been on your back for the better part of an hour—

You could do so much better.

The words settled in your chest like something cold and heavy.

You forced a smile when a girl you half-recognised from highschool appeared beside you, launching into enthusiastic conversation about something that you responded to on autopilot, because it was easier than standing alone with your own thoughts.

Rafe found you like that.

Surrounded.

Three people he vaguely knew from various parties, all leaning in, all clearly charmed, and you were laughing at something one of the guys had said

some tall guy from the golf club who kept finding excuses to touch your arm when he made a point.

Rafe stood at the edge of the group for approximately four seconds before deciding he hated him.

He told himself this was a normal reaction. Anyone would find this annoying. It wasn't about jealousy, it was about—

The guy touched your arm again.

Okay. It was about jealousy.

He was moving before he'd consciously decided to, crossing the space between them with what he hoped was a casual, unhurried expression and not the expression he was actually making, which based on Kelce's sudden snort from somewhere to his left, was probably not good.

You saw him coming. Something shifted in your expression, just briefly,something he couldn't read and then you smiled, but it was the slightly more guarded version, the one that was a fraction smaller than the real one, and Rafe noticed the difference immediately even though he didn’t understand how 

"There you are," he said, sliding into the space beside you with what he hoped was easy confidence.

"Here I am," you agreed.

The golf club guy clocked Rafe's presence and did a fairly obvious reassessment, his posture shifting just slightly. Smart.

"We were just talking about—" he started.

"I want to dance" Rafe ignored him and turned to you

You looked at him. "You do?"

"Don't you?"

There was a beat. Something flickered across your face that was either amusement or annoyance or possibly both, and then you turned back to the group with a small smile. "I'll catch up with you guys later."

You let him steer you toward the makeshift dance floor by the pool, and for approximately thirty seconds everything was fine, and then you turned to face him and there it was again, that slight careful quality in your expression that hadn't been there an hour ago.

"Who was that?" Rafe asked, because he apparently had no self-control.

"Nick" you said

"He kept touching your arm."

"Did he?" Your tone was light but your eyes were doing something he couldn't decipher. "Didn't notice."

"Right."

"Rafe." You tilted your head slightly. "Did you just come over here because some guy was talking to me?"

"I came over because I said I'd be two seconds and it was more like ten minutes."

"Uh-huh."

"And because he wouldn't stop touching your arm."

Something shifted in your expression. For a second you looked like you might laugh, and Rafe felt some of the tightness in his chest ease

He watched you for the next song, trying to figure out what he was reading in the tension of your shoulders, in the way you were smiling just slightly less freely than before. Something had changed in the ten minutes he'd been gone and he couldn't work out what.

Then, because the universe apparently thought he needed more problems tonight, the golf club guy reappeared.

He materialised beside you with the confidence of someone who genuinely didn't understand social cues or simply didn't care about them, leaning in close to say something near your ear over the music.

Rafe was next to him in approximately half a step.

"She's good," he said, planting himself between you with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Thanks."

The guy looked at him for a long moment, clearly running some internal calculation, and then he smiled tightly and stepped back. "Cool party, man."

"Thanks," Rafe said, with exactly the same energy.

He turned back to you.

You were watching him with an expression that was somehow simultaneously exasperated and something softer underneath it.

"He was in your space."

"I was handling it."

"I know."

You looked at him for a moment before sighing

 Rafes eyes searched your face for a second, trying to find something, anything, that could tell him what’s been obviously bothering you. 

When he found nothing, he softly grabbed your arm, getting your attention “Can we talk somewhere quieter?”

He took you around the side of the house, away from the pool and the music and the press of people, through the back door and up the stairs before he'd really thought about where he was taking you. It was just quieter up here. Easier to breathe.

His bedroom door was unlocked. He pushed it open and gestured you in with a slight self-consciousness he didn't usually feel about his own space.

You stepped inside, looking around with curious eyes. He watched you take it in.

the desk still scattered with some leftover paperwork from last summer, the general organised chaos of someone who'd grown up in a big house and never quite learned to be tidy.

"Sorry about the—" he started.

"It's fine," you said, and you genuinely seemed unbothered. 

You drifted toward the bookshelf, trailing a finger along the spines, and then your attention snagged on something on the lower shelf and you crouched down to pull it out.

A yearbook. Kildare County High, from what Rafe could see from across the room.

"Oh my god," you said, more to yourself than to him, flipping it open. A small smile crossed your face. "I completely forgot about this"

"Yeah." He came and leaned against the shelves beside you. "You dont have one?"

"Yeah, I lost it a while ago" You were flipping through the pages now, the smile widening slightly. "I forgot what you looked like back then."

"Don't," Rafe warned with an embarrassed smile

"You had hair."

"I'm aware."

"You look so young." You were laughing now, properly, the guarded quality from downstairs temporarily forgotten, and it was so much better than watching you smile politely at people who didn't deserve it.

You flipped a few more pages, and then your attention shifted to a framed photo on the shelf beside the yearbook. You reached out and picked it up without asking, which he found he didn't mind at all.

He knew which photo it was before you turned it over. Him and his dad, standing in front of the car. Rafe was maybe sixteen in it, grinning in the way he didn't do much anymore.

"Is that a Porsche?" you asked.

"Yeah."

"That was your first car?"

"It was just—"

"If you say 'it was just a Porsche' I'm leaving."

He felt his mouth twitch. "It was a used one."

You turned to look at him with an expression that was perfectly flat. "A used Porsche."

“…My dad used it… he had two and he wasn't using—" He stopped, because you were already looking away, and there it was again. That cooling. The insincere smile replacing the real one.

"Yeah," you said quietly, setting the photo back. "Of course."

Something in your voice made him go still.

"Okay," Rafe said slowly. "What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"You've been—" He tried to find the right word. "You've been somewhere else for the last hour. I don't know where, but it's not here."

You were quiet for a moment, looking at the photo of him and his dad with the Porsche. The sixteen-year-old version of him who hadn't thought about much beyond the weekend.

"I overheard Topper," you said finally.

Rafe closed his eyes briefly. "What did you hear?"

"The usual." Your tone was light, but it wasn't. "Pogue, you could do better, thought you were over this. The Standard." You glanced at him sideways. "He's not wrong about the first part."

"He is, actually."

"Rafe—"

"He's wrong," Rafe said firmly. "And he needs to mind his own—I'll talk to him."

"It's not just tonight," you said. You turned to look at him properly then, and something in your expression told him this was the actual conversation, the one that had been waiting underneath everything else. "You and your friends. At school."

He looked at you.

"Do you remember my car?" you asked.

A beat. "Your—"

"It wasn't much." The corner of your mouth curved in a way that wasn't quite a smile. "It wasn't a Porsche. It was a '98 Civic with a cracked side mirror and a passenger window that stuck if it rained. My dad was saving for years before he gave it to me" You paused. "Junior year. Someone keyed it, sprayed it, smashed the headlights, slashed the tyres. Left it in the clubs car park to rot"

Rafe was very still.

"I caught him with someone who wasn’t Sarah" you said, and your voice was steady, carefully steady, in a way that told him exactly how much effort that was costing you. "Topper threatened me to keep it quiet, to know my place, and I figured—" You stopped. Started again. "I figured because it was your sister getting cheated on that you wouldn’t back him up on this. But, I assumed topper left out some details"

The silence was absolute.

"I spent a long time being angry about it," you said. "But then i realised time moves on whether i was angry or not, so i got over it. But then tonight Topper said Pogue and suddenly I was seventeen again standing in a car park and I—" You exhaled. "I should go."

"Wait—"

"I'm not—I'm not doing this to make you feel bad, I just—" You turned to look at him properly “I think i just needed you to know how much it affected me”

He watched your expression as it moved through something complicated, something he couldn't fully track. The careful composure cracking slightly at the edges.

The space between you was very small. He could see the moment the weight of it landed, really landed, the way your shoulders dropped a fraction, the way your eyes went briefly bright before you blinked it back.

He didn't think about it. He just moved.

His hand came up to your face and he kissed you, and for one suspended second you kissed him back — soft and full of apologies he couldn’t verbalise, your hand curled into the front of his shirt like you needed something to hold onto. 

And then you pulled back.

Not far. Just enough. Your hand still loosely gripping his shirt, your forehead resting against his, eyes closed for just a moment before they opened and found his.

"Not right now, Rafe." Your voice was quiet but certain.

He stayed where he was, close, his hand still at your jaw.

"You can't just do that," you said, "and think it'll make me forget."

"I'm not trying to make you forget anything."

"Then what are you trying to do?"

He didn't have a good answer for that. He'd kissed you because he hadn't known what else to do with everything that was sitting in his chest, which was probably not a defence that was going to land well right now.

"I’m sorry" he said again, because it was the only thing he was certain of.

"I know" you said. And something in the way you said it told him that you actually did, that this wasn't a brush-off, that the door wasn't closing. "i just need a minute"

He let his hand drop. Stepped back. Gave you the space you were asking for even though every instinct was pulling the other direction.

"Okay," he said.

You looked at him for a moment longer, something searching in your expression. Then you crossed to the door, and just before you reached it you paused.

"I really do like you rafe" you said, not looking at him. "Despite everything. I still really like you"

And then you were gone, and Rafe was standing in his own bedroom looking at a photograph of himself at sixteen, and something was building in his chest that had nowhere to go.

He found Topper at the drinks table.

Of course he did.

Topper turned when he heard his name, drink halfway to his mouth, and whatever was in Rafe's expression made him put it back down.

"Rafe—"

"The car," Rafe said.

Something moved across Topper's face. Quick and complicated and gone almost immediately, replaced by the casual blankness Rafe had seen him use before when he was buying time.

"what—"

"Don't." Rafe stepped closer, keeping his voice low because he was aware there were people around them "The car. Junior year. You told me it was some random Pogue's car."

"It was a Pogue's—"

"It was hers." The words came out quiet and flat and absolutely final. "You knew it was hers. You let me—" He stopped, jaw clenching. "She saw you with someone. And you needed to make sure she didn't say anything."

Topper was quiet.

Which was the only answer Rafe needed.

He hit him once, clean and decisive. The fist connected with Toppers jaw with a loud crunch

Topper staggered back into the drinks table, sending two plastic cups skittering sideways, and the people nearby scattered with the practiced ease of people who'd seen enough Rafes fights to know when to clear out.

"What the hell—" Topper started.

"We're done tonight," Rafe said. "We're probably done for a while." He stepped back, breathing through it. "You should go."

With that, he stalked back outside. Shoving other people out of the way without a glance before wandering around the garden ike a ghost.

Kelce found him around the side of the house, sitting on the low garden wall, hands hanging between his knees, staring at nothing in particular.

"I heard," Kelce said simply, sitting down beside him.

"Did you know?" Rafe asked.

A pause that lasted a beat too long.

"Kelce."

"I didn't know the whole story," Kelce said carefully. "I knew the car was from the Cut. I thought- everyone kind of figured you knew whose it was. That it was connected to her somehow." He exhaled. "I should have said something. I didn't, and that's on me."

”So, she knew what we did but she still lets you chat up her best friend?” Rafe rubs his jaw 

Kelce huffs out a laugh, shaking his head “We spoke about it before, when I first met Riley. She was pissed, obviously. She knew it was mainly topper if anything, I think a small part of her was hoping the rest of us were just going along with it.”

Rafe said nothing for a long moment.

"She left," he said finally.

"I know. Riley went after her." Kelce paused. "She'll tell her."

"Tell her what?"

"That you didn't know." Kelce looked at him sideways. "You didn't, did you?"

"No." The word came out rough. "I didn't."

They sat in silence for a moment, the noise of the party filtering around from the other side of the house.

"I've been—" Rafe stopped. Started again. "I've been trying to be better. Actual better, not just—" He made a gesture that didn't really mean anything. "And she's been carrying that around and I've just been showing up at her house and acting like everything was fine—"

"Rafe." Kelce's voice was even. "You couldn't fix something you didn't know about. That's how it works."

"Someone should have told me."

"Yeah," Kelce agreed. "They should have."

Another silence.

"Topper's probably icing his jaw," Kelce offered.

"Good."

"...Yeah, probably fair." Kelce was quiet for a moment. "Give her tonight. Riley will talk to her. And tomorrow, when she's had some time, you can—" He shrugged. "You know where she lives."

Rafe looked out at the dark stretch of garden, the party noise distant now, the lights strung through the trees softer from here.

He did know where she lived.

They walked there hand in hand at 2AM, ate pasta and kissed on the couch 

He'd driven there this morning at nine o'clock with a half-formed excuse about being in the neighbourhood.

Tomorrow he'd fix it.

You were already in your pyjamas when Riley got home.

The light was off. You'd been lying in the dark for approximately ten minutes staring at your ceiling and running the evening back through your head in a loop that wasn't making you feel better.

You heard the front door, then Riley's footsteps, then the pause outside your door.

"I'm awake," you said.

She came in and sat on the end of your bed in the dark, which was a very Riley thing to do.

"He didn't know," she said.

You were quiet.

"I mean it," Riley said. "Kelce said everyone assumed he knew it was your car. But he didn't. Topper just told him it was some random—" She stopped. "Rafe punched him."

You turned your head to look at her in the dark. "What?"

"When you left. He confronted Topper about it and punched him." Riley's voice was carefully neutral in a way that meant she was trying very hard not to editorially comment. "Kelce was very matter-of-fact about it."

You stared at your ceiling again.

"He didn't know," Riley said again, quietly.

The thing was, some part of you had already known that. 

But knowing something and feeling it were different things, and you'd spent the entire walk home with the feeling part catching up.

"He's going to come over tomorrow," Riley said. It wasn't a question.

"Probably."

"Are you going to let him?"

You thought about the photograph of him at sixteen, grinning in front of a car he'd been given by a man who had two. 

You thought about him at the party tonight, his hand at the small of your back, pouring you a drink with his hands hovering uncertainly over the bottles because you'd said surprise me.

You thought about ‘I'm just glad you made it.’

"Yeah," you said finally. "I think I am."

Riley was quiet for a moment. Then she lay down beside you on top of the covers, shoulder to shoulder, both of you staring at the ceiling in the dark.

"For what it's worth," she said, "Kelce said he's been 'a complete idiot' since the day he met you."

"I know. You told me."

"I'm just saying." A pause. "He really didn't know."

"I know," you said again, softer this time.

Outside, a car passed on the street, headlights sweeping briefly across the ceiling.

He really didn't know.

You let out a slow breath.

Tomorrow, then.

TAGLIST!

@rafeysangelbaby @https-suzuki @cokewithcameron @jinxatdawn @lobot0mies4sale @sunsn0w @silkylovey @wiredswanxoxo @ssugartalkin @lynst91

[pqndxra]

Hey guys! I’ve got a few more ideas for different fics and was just wondering which ones you guys would be more interested in!

Obviously I’ll finish P4U before I’ll even think of publishing another fic otherwise I’d get distracted and would ever finish it lol

But if anyone had any requestions and/or ideas please lmk

Pick a Fic!

Stiles Stilinski x Heretic!reader

Kai Parker x reader

Wally Clark x Ghost!reader

Rafe Cameron x FWB!reader

Voting ended onFeb 1

The Stiles Stilinski one would follow the plot of Teen Wolf but the rest would be more AUs!

ILY!!

[pqndxra]

PARTY 4 U!

PREV CHAPTER 9 NEXT

w/c: 6.9k

SYNOPSIS

Rafe had charm, wealth and a reputation that would turn heads wherever he went. He had never even heard of the word no - until he met her. The one woman he couldn’t buy, couldn’t charm and couldn’t stop thinking about. Now, he’s willing to risk everything to have the one thing he can’t seem to touch. You.

CONTENT

swearing, all characters are over 18 (Reader is 20, Rafe is 21), Partying, drinking, a lot of panicking and stressing, unorganised reader, Ruthie and Topper, Reader and Rafe only interact nearing the end of the chap, Rafe being adorable, Great Gatsby mention! shitty writing, lmk if I missed any

A/N!

You guys defo deserve a double update for waiting on me for so long lol

But we are finally at ‘party 4 U’ part of the series so yay! And I hope you guys notice how I kinda make Riley and Kelce perfect for each other 😉 Pls lmk what you think of this chapter and if there is anything I can do to make it better or anything! ILY

You were currently on your hands and knees, one arm stretched under your bed frame, fingers grasping blindly at whatever lint and mystery items had accumulated in the dark abyss beneath your bed

"Where the fuck are they?" you muttered, your voice muffled against the floor

Your room looked like a bomb had gone off in a clothing store. Jeans draped over your desk chair, shirts scattered across the floor, dresses you hadn't worn in months suddenly pulled from the depths of your closet and discarded in wrinkled heaps

Your initial outfit choice, a cute white top with your favorite denim shorts, had seemed perfect. Easy, casual, like you hadn't spent the entire afternoon stressing about what to wear to a party (that you were almost a hundred percent sure your highschool crush had thrown specifically for you)

Except now you couldn't find the shorts.

"Riley!" you called out, your voice taking on a slightly desperate edge. "Have you seen my denim shorts?"

When she doesn’t reply, you slap your palms onto the wood beneath you “RILEY!”

”What!?” You can hear almost hear the eye roll in her voice, followed by drawers opening and closing

“Have you seen my shorts!? The good ones?”

There was a pause from Riley's room across the hall, "Which good ones?" She calls back "You have like, four pairs"

"The vintage Levi's! The ones with the-" you grunted, stretching further under the bed, your shoulder protesting at the angle, "-the ones with the frayed hems!"

Another pause. This one longer. More ominous.

"Oh," Riley said, her voice drops with the specific ‘Riley’ tone that immediately made your stomach drop. "Those shorts"

You straightened yourself from under the bed, sitting back on your heels, already knowing you weren't going to like whatever came next. "Riley. Where are my shorts"

Riley appeared in your doorway, one eye perfectly lined with eyeliner while the other remained bare. She was wearing a grungy tank top and a denim mini skirt that somehow looked effortlessly put together despite the fact that you'd watched her try on at least six different outfits in the past hour

"They're in the wash" Riley said, wincing apologetically

"What?"

"You wore them for Lydia’s party, Remember? She split Malibu on them and You asked me to throw them in with my laundry?"

The memory came flooding back, Lydia’s fake cackle she only uses when a rich touron makes a shitty joke, her leaning over you to grasp his arm only to pour half her drink over your lap. You'd definitely asked Riley to wash them. You'd also definitely forgotten about that 

"Fuck" you groaned, flopping backwards onto your floor dramatically, staring at your ceiling "Fuck, fuck, fuck. I hate my life"

"It's not that bad-"

"It's not that bad? Riley, those shorts make my ass look great!" You gestured wildly at the carnage surrounding you "I’ve had this outfit planned for three hours! I’m not going.”

"Okay, first of all, you've been planning this outfit since Rafe showed up at our door this morning," Riley corrected, moving into your room and carefully navigating the minefield of discarded clothes. "Second of all, you’re going. you're just spiraling. I can see you spiraling"

"I'm not spiraling" you lied "I just- I had a plan. The white top with the shorts looked casual but hot, like I tried but not too hard, and now-"

"Now you'll wear something else that looks casual but hot," Riley interrupted, sitting down on your floor beside you "It's really not the end of the world."

"It feels like the end of the world" you muttered stubbornly, you knew you sounded ridiculous but right now you couldn’t bring yourself to care

Riley was quiet for a moment, and when you glanced over at her, she was looking at you with that expression, the one that said she could see right through your bullshit 

"This isn’t about the shorts" she said finally

"It's absolutely about the shorts"

"Uh-huh" Riley stood up, surveying the disaster zone that was your room. "So the fact that you've tried on literally every piece of clothing you own has nothing to do with the fact that Rafe Cameron drove all the way to the Cut this morning just to personally invite you to this party?"

"He wanted to invite you too" you pointed out weakly.

"He only invited me because you said you wanted me there. He came here for you" Riley started picking through the clothes on your floor, examining different pieces with before throwing them back onto the floor "And correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't he specifically ask for your number?"

"oh my god ‘would it be over kill if I brought pancakes?’ What the hell is wrong with me" you groaned, covering your face with your hands "Who actually jokes like that? It’s not even funny"

"Okay, we're definitely spiraling now" Riley held up a black top, considered it, then tossed it aside "Babe, listen to me. Rafe Cameron threw a party, a whole party, on a random Thursday night. He drove to our house at nine in the morning to invite you personally. He asked for your number. He texted you. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"That he's polite?" you tried

Riley stared at you "Rafe Cameron? Polite?"

"Okay, fine, he's not known for being polite-"

"He likes you, you idiot" Riley was holding up another pair of shorts, dark washed ones that you'd been avoiding because they felt too dressy "He very clearly, very obviously likes you. So maybe stop stressing about wearing the perfect outfit and just... relax?"

You sat up, pulling your knees to your chest "What if I'm reading this all wrong? What if he's just being friendly? What if-"

"Stop," Riley said firmly "Stop doing the thing where you talk yourself out of something before it even has a chance to happen"

"I'm not-"

"You are. You always do this." Riley came to sit beside you again, the shorts still in her hand "Look, I don't know Rafe super well, but I know Kelce. And according to Kelce, Rafe has been, and I quote, 'acting like a complete idiot' since he saw you at my party"

That made you pause "He said that?"

"Direct quote. Apparently Rafe hasn't shut up about you" Riley grinned "So unless you've secretly been performing hexes or something, I think it's safe to say the interest is mutual"

You wanted to believe her. God, you wanted to believe her so badly it almost hurt. But there was still that voice in the back of your head, the one that whispered that this was Rafe Cameron, Figure Eight royalty, the guy who could have anyone he wanted. Why the hell does he want you?

"What if I fuck it up?" you said quietly

Riley's expression softened "Then you fucked it up. But what if you don't? What if you go to this party, wearing literally anything because the boy clearly doesn't care what you're wearing, and you have an amazing time?"

"You make it sound so simple"

"Because it is simple. You're the one making it complicated" Riley stood up, pulling you up with her "Now come on. Let me work my magic"

"You have magic? And you never told me?" You looked at her skeptically

"Trust me. I have magic" Riley confirmed, already moving toward your closet with purpose "You’re about to give yourself an aneurysm. I'm taking over."

"Riley-"

"Nope. No arguments. This is an intervention" She started pushing through your clothes, pulling items out and examining them with the focus of someone on a mission "Do your makeup and trust me"

You did as you were told, sitting at your vanity/desk while also watching Riley work through your heaps of clothing

There was something oddly calming about letting someone else take control, about not having to make the decision yourself. Riley pulled out a baggy white, off the shoulder t-shirt, The black graphic printed on it matched perfectly with your new shorts

"This" she said decisively, holding it up "With these Shorts" She tossed the dark wash denim at you.

You caught them, looking down at the outfit uncertainly "Isn't this too dressy?"

"It's a party at Tannyhill, not a boneyard bonfire. This is perfect, dressy enough to show you made an effort, casual enough that you're not trying too hard" Riley was already back in your closet, emerging with a pair of your boots. "And these, because they're cute and they go with everything"

You held the clothes against yourself, looking at your reflection in the mirror that hung on the back of your door. It was simple. Clean. The kind of outfit that wouldn't look out of place at a Figure Eight party but still felt like you

"I don't know-" you started

"Trust me" Riley said firmly. "When have I ever been wrong?"

She had a point. Riley had amazing taste, and she knew you well enough to know what would make you feel comfortable while still looking good

"Okay” you hesitantly agreed "Okay, fine. I'll wear it"

"Perfect. Now get dressed while I finish my eyeliner. We need to leave in an hour"

"An hour!" You spun around to face her "I still need to do my hair!"

"It's plenty of time. You're already showered, your makeup looks good, you just need to get dressed and it literally takes you 20 minutes to do your hair" Riley was already heading back to her room "And no changing the outfit! I'm confiscating everything else!"

"You can't confiscate my clothes!"

"Watch me!"

Despite everything, you found yourself smiling. This was why you loved living with Riley, she knew exactly when to push and when to pull back, when to let you spiral and when to snap you out of it

You changed quickly, pulling on the top and shorts, zipping up the boots. When you looked at yourself in the mirror, you had to admit Riley was right. The outfit worked. You looked like yourself, just... a slightly more put-together version

An hour later, you couldn’t put help but think Riley knew you better than you knew yourself, It did indeed take you 20 minutes to do you hair, now all you had to do was put on all your jewellery

You were just applying the finishing touches to your outfit when Riley reappeared in your doorway, both eyes now perfectly lined, her hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders

"See?" she said, looking you up and down approvingly "I told you. You look hot."

"I look okay" you corrected, but you were smiling

"You look hot" Riley insisted "Rafe Cameron is going to take one look at you and forget how to speak"

You only roll your eyes in response, smacking your lips together. You glanced around your room for your phone, only to be met with the chaos you created only an hour earlier.

"I’m bringing the champagne, it’s been in there for years and we need to get rid of it" Riley takes a few steps back, pulling out her phone to read the messages you assume Kelce has sent her

"Okay, we really do need to leave though. Kelce just texted asking if we're coming. Rafe’s freaking out" she draws out the end of her sentence with a teasing tone before making her way to the kitchen

You sighed, turning towards your bed and swept through the random piles of clothes in hopes you would find your phone beneath the mess. When you finally found it lying on top of the duvet, you joined Riley in the kitchen where she was waiting with a bottle of the old champagne in her.

"Okay" you said "Okay let's do this"

"That's my girl" Riley grinned "Now come on"

You grabbed your phone and your keys, following Riley out of the kitchen and towards the front door

As you both made your way out to the car, the evening air warm and promising, you felt some of your anxiety finally start to ease. Riley was right, you needed to stop overthinking everything and just let yourself enjoy this. Enjoy the party, enjoy seeing Rafe, enjoy whatever might or might not happen between you

Because at the end of the day, what was the worst that could happen? So you liked a guy, and maybe for whatever reason he liked you back. That wasn't scary

Okay, it was a little scary

But it was also exciting

"You're thinking too loud again" Riley observed as she started the car

"Sorry" you said, smiling despite yourself

"Just remember, worst case scenario, the party sucks and we leave early and we take edibles on the way home"

"That doesn't sound like a worst case scenario"

"Exactly" Riley said, pulling out onto the street "So there's literally nothing to worry about"

You leaned back in your seat, watching the familiar streets of the Cut pass by as Riley drove toward Figure Eight. Toward Tannyhill. Toward Rafe

Riley was still talking, something about her plan to casually bring up common interests between her and Kelce, but you were only half listening. The other half of your mind was preoccupied with wondering what Rafe was doing right now. If he was nervous too. If he was thinking about you the way you'd been thinking about him

You quickly checked your phone, seeing there were a couple of notifications but none of them were particularly important. None from Rafe 

Before you could second guess yourself, you opened Rafes contact, Planning on sending just a quick casual text saying that you and Riley were on your way. But before your fingers could even touch the keyboard, You were reading the text rafe had already sent you. 

That you had already unknowingly opened. 

An hour ago.

Looking forward to the pancakes. Any idea when they're getting here?

“Oh shit” 

“What? What happened” 

“I accidentally left Rafe on opened” You groaned, staring at the phone. 

Riley just chuckled “it’s fine, he’s probably busy with hosting duties, hasn’t checked his phone”

As she turned onto the road that would take them toward Figure Eight, you took one more deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies that had taken up permanent residence in your stomach

This was fine. Everything was fine. You looked good, you were going to a party, and Rafe wanted you there. That was enough

It had to be enough

Because if you thought about it any harder than that, you might actually talk yourself into turning around and going home, and you'd already come this far

Riley reached over and squeezed your hand once, brief but reassuring, and you squeezed back

"Ready?" she asked as Tannyhill came into view, already glowing with lights and clearly full of people.

"Ready," you lied

But as Riley parked the car and you both climbed out, checking your reflections one last time in the side mirrors, you realized that maybe you were ready. Or at least as ready as you were going to be

"Lets do this!" Riley said with a grin

"You mean let's go wingman you and Kelce?"

"That too," Riley agreed easily. "But mostly I meant you and Rafe."

Before you could protest, Riley was already walking toward the party, and you had no choice but to follow.

This was it. No turning back now.

You took one more breath, smoothed down your top, and walked into the party.

Rafe Cameron was not the type to stress about parties. He'd thrown dozens of them, hundreds, probably, if he really counted all the impulsive gatherings that had somehow ended with half of Figure Eight passed out on his lawn. 

Parties were easy. You got some booze, turned on a playlist, and let people do whatever the hell they wanted. Simple.

So why was he currently standing in the middle of Tannyhill's backyard, staring at the speaker like it had just ran over his dog

"Dude, you good?" Topper asked, appearing at his elbow with a beer already in hand despite the fact that people had barely started arriving

"Yeah, fine" Rafe said automatically, then immediately second-guessed himself. Was the music too loud? Not loud enough? Was this even the right kind of music?

He pulled out his phone for the fifteenth time in the past hour, thumb hovering over your contact. He'd already typed and deleted four different messages, each one feeling more pathetic than the last

Hey, you coming? Too desperate

Party's starting Too casual, like he didn't care

Let me know when you're close Too presumptuous, what if you weren't coming at all?

Looking forward to seeing you Absolutely fucking not

"You're doing that thing again" Topper observed, taking a long sip from his beer

"What thing?"

"That thing where you stare at your phone like it's gonna explode. You've been doing it all day"

"I'm not-" Rafe started, but Topper just raised an eyebrow "I'm just checking messages"

"Uh-huh. Does this have anything to do with why you randomly decided to throw a party on a Thursday night with like, five hours notice?"

"It's Friday tomorrow, and I don't know what you're talking about" Rafe muttered, shoving his phone back in his pocket. Then, because he couldn't help himself, he pulled it back out and typed quickly before he could overthink it:

Looking forward to the pancakes. Any idea when they're getting here?

He hit send before he could delete it for the fifth time, then immediately regretted everything. pancakes. Jesus Christ. 

His phone stayed silent. No three little dots indicating you were typing. No immediate response. Nothing.

"Fuck" he muttered

"Okay, seriously, what's going on with you?" Topper pressed "You're being weird. Like, weirder than usual"

"Nothing's going on. I'm fine. Everything's fine" Rafe ran a hand over his buzz, scanning the growing crowd of people filtering into the backyard. No sign of you yet. Maybe you weren't coming. Maybe he’s been coming on too strong and now you thought he was a complete idiot and-

"Is this about a girl?" Topper's face lit up with the kind of glee that made Rafe want to punch him "Oh shit, this is definitely about a girl"

"It's not-"

"It is! Dude, you threw a party for a girl? That's like, actually kind of romantic. In a weird, Gatsby way"

"I didn't throw a party for-" Rafe stopped himself, because that was exactly what he'd done and they both knew it "You read Gatsby?"

Topper just shrugged “No. But Sarah used to talk about it non-stop. It was actually kinda annoy-“ He stopped himself when Rafe glared at him

"-Anyways, Who is it? Is it someone I know?" Topper was practically bouncing now, and Rafe was seriously reconsidering their entire friendship, for the 50th time this week

Before he could tell Topper exactly where he could shove his questions, Kelce appeared with a grin that immediately put Rafe on edge

"What's going on? Why does Top look like Christmas came early?"

"Rafe's in love" Topper announced, like he was sharing breaking news

"I'm not- fuck off," Rafe snapped, but his ears were burning and he rubbed his jaw in an attempt to hide the redness on his cheeks

"No Way! Really?" Kelce's grin sarcastically, oblivious to the fact Topper was actually stupid "Who's the lucky girl?"

"Shut up. Topper's drunk and talking out of his ass"

"I've had one beer!"

"Then you're just stupid"

Topper clutched his chest in mock offense, but before he could fire back, Ruthie appeared seemingly out of nowhere, latching onto Topper's arm with a possessiveness that made everyone uncomfortable

"Topper! There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you," she said, her voice pitched high and whiny "Come dance with me"

"Uh, I was just talking to-" Topper started, but Ruthie was already pulling him toward where people were congregating near the pool

"It'll just be a minute! Come on!"

Rafe and Kelce watched as Topper was dragged away, his expression somewhere between resignation and mild panic.

"Twenty bucks says he brings her up within five minutes of getting back" Kelce said

“One hundred percent" Rafe replied. His phone was still silent in his hand, the message marked as 'read' but with no response. His stomach twisted uncomfortably. Maybe you weren't coming after all

People kept arriving, the party filling up exactly the way Rafe had expected. Music pumping, drinks flowing, the usual Figure Eight crowd doing their usual Figure Eight things. It should have been fine. It was fine

Except he couldn't stop checking the driveway every thirty seconds like some kind of psycho

"So," Kelce said, drawing out the word in a way that made Rafe immediately suspicious "Riley mentioned she might be coming tonight."

Rafe's attention snapped to him. "Riley? Your girlfriend "

"She's not my- we're just friends"

"Sure you are" Rafe smirked despite his anxiety "She coming alone?"

"I don't know, why?" Kelce's eyes narrowed "Oh. OH. This is about-"

"Don't."

"It is! Dude, are you serious right now?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're such a shit liar" Kelce was fully grinning now, the asshole "This whole party is because-"

"I throw parties all the time," Rafe interrupted, defensive "This is a normal thing I do. There's nothing weird about it"

"Uh-huh. And you stress about the music at every party?"

Rafe froze "I'm not stressed about the music"

"Dude, you've changed the playlist like six times. I've been watching you"

"That's creepy"

"You're deflecting"

Rafe pulled out his phone again, like somehow in the thirty seconds since he'd last checked, you might have responded. Still nothing. He tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest

"She's not texting back" he admitted before he could stop himself, running his hand against his head once again

Kelce's expression softened slightly "I'm sure she's just getting ready or something. Riley takes forever to get ready. If they're coming together-"

"If?" Rafe's head jerked up "What do you mean 'if'?"

"I mean I don't know for sure-"

"You said she was coming"

"mentioned. Not confirmed" Kelce held up his hands "But knowing Riley, she'd drag her even if she wasn't planning to come. Those two are attached at the hip"

Rafe wanted to feel reassured by that, but his mind was already spiraling. What if you'd changed your mind? What if you'd realized this morning that he was pathetic and desperate and-

"Okay, you need to stop thinking so loud," Kelce said "It's making me uncomfortable"

"I'm not-"

"You're doing that thing with your jaw. You're gonna crack a tooth if you keep clenching it like that"

Rafe consciously relaxed his jaw, then immediately tensed it again when Topper reappeared, looking frazzled and vaguely exhausted despite only being gone for maybe ten minutes

"I can't do this" Topper announced, grabbing someone's abandoned beer off a nearby table and downing half of it in one go

"Do what?" Kelce asked, though he already knew

"Ruthie. She's- I don't know, man. She's a lot" Topper ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up at odd angles "Like, I thought it would be casual, you know? Just hanging out. But she's already talking about making things official and meeting her parents and I'm just like, we hooked up twice. Twice!"

"You should probably tell her that," Rafe said distractedly, still scanning the crowd

"I tried! But then she starts talking about how good we are together and how everyone says we make such a cute couple, and I just-  don't know how to…" Topper broke off, taking another long drink "She's literally planned out our next three dates. Three! I didn't even know there was a first date!"

"Sounds rough, man" Kelce offered, but he was clearly trying not to laugh

"It is rough! And the worst part is, she's not even-I mean, she's nice and everything, but" Topper lowered his voice, leaning in conspiratorially. "I don't even think I like her that much. Like, as a person. Is that bad? That feels bad."

"Probably something you should have figured out before you hooked up with her" Rafe muttered, then immediately felt like a hypocrite because he was one to talk about thinking things through

"Thank you for that incredibly helpful insight, Rafe," Topper said sarcastically "Really appreciate it"

They fell into silence, Topper looking miserable, Kelce looking amused, and Rafe looking at his phone again. Still nothing. It had been over an hour since he'd sent the message. Over an hour of radio silence

Maybe this whole thing had been a mistake. Maybe he should just-

The music shifted to some rap song, and Rafe's anxiety suddenly pivoted to a new target. The music. Fuck, the music was all wrong

You liked to dance, he'd seen you at Riley's, completely lost in the music, moving like nobody was watching because nobody had been, except him. obviously. 

But this playlist was shit. This was music people talked over, not music people actually danced to

"What kind of music does she like?" Rafe blurted out, interrupting what appeared to be Topper's passionate rant about Ruthie

Topper just blinked "What? Who? Ruthie?"

"Not you" Rafe turned to Kelce "Riley. What kind of music does Riley like? Like, to dance to?"

Kelce's grin was immediate and teasing "Why do you want to know?"

"Just answer the question"

"This is adorable"

"Kelce."

"I'm serious, this is the cutest thing I've ever seen you do. You're trying to impress her with the music?"

"I'm not trying to impress anyone. It’s just, the music's shit. I'm fixing the music" Rafe could feel his face heating up again, which only infuriated him more "Are you gonna help or not?"

"Oh, I'm absolutely going to help" Kelce said, pulling out his phone with barely contained glee "But only because this is the most entertainment I've had in months"

"I hate you"

"No you don't" Kelce was already scrolling through something "Okay, so Riley's really into like, older stuff. Lots of 2000s, maybe some 80s. Anything with a good beat that you can actually move to, not just-" he gestured vaguely at the current Playboi Carti song, "-whatever this is"

"Be more specific"

"Dude, I don't have her Spotify. I'm not a mind reader" Kelce looked up, his expression shifting to something almost genuine "But real talk? She'll dance to anything if she's having a good time. Just put on something with energy, something fun. Don't overthink it"

Don't overthink it. Right. Because Rafe was definitely capable of not overthinking things right now

"Wait, who are we trying to impress with music?" Topper asked, apparently having caught up to the conversation

"No one" Rafe said quickly

"Top, are you serious? Who else would he throw an entire party for?" Kelce stared at Topper with raised eyebrows

"Oh my god, you did throw a party for a girl!" Topper's eyes were wide "Who is it? Do I know her?"

"It doesn't matter because she's not even-" Rafe started, then stopped himself before he could finish that sentence. Before he could admit that you probably weren't coming, that he'd scared you off with his obvious desperation

"She's not even what?" Kelce pressed

"Here yet" Rafe finished lamely with a small sigh "She's not here yet"

"But she's coming?" Topper asked

"I don't know. Maybe. She said she would, but" He pulled out his phone again. Still nothing "I don't know."

Kelce and Topper exchanged a look that Rafe didn't like one bit

"What?" he demanded

"Nothing" they said in unison, which only pissed him off more

"It's just-" Topper started

"We've never seen you like this" Kelce finished "It's kind of-"

"Pathetic?" Rafe supplied bitterly

"I was gonna say sweet" Kelce said "But sure, we can go with pathetic if you want"

Before Rafe could tell them both to shut the hell up, the music cut out abruptly, leaving a momentary silence before someone, probably fucking Ruthie, actually, yelled about getting it back on

"I should" Rafe gestured toward the speakers scattered around his house. "I need to fix this"

"You mean you need to curate the perfect playlist for your girlfriend" Kelce said, that infuriating grin still plastered on his face

"I'm going to punch you"

"No you're not, because then I won't help you, and you clearly need help"

Kelce was right, unfortunately. Rafe did need help. He needed help with the music and the party and the fact that his brain wouldn't shut up about whether or not you were coming and what it meant that you hadn't responded

"Okay, come on" Kelce said, apparently taking pity on him "Let's go fix your playlist before people start leaving"

They made their way toward where Rafe's phone was connected to the speakers, Topper trailing behind them while simultaneously texting someone, probably trying to fend off Ruthie, based on his expression

"Alright, give me your phone" Kelce said, holding out his hand

"Why?"

"Because you're stressed and you're going to fuck this up. I'm taking over"

Rafe reluctantly handed over his phone, watching as Kelce scrolled through his Spotify with increasing disbelief

"Dude, your music taste is depressing as hell"

"It's not-"

"You have a playlist called 'Angry Driving'. That's concerning"

"Give it back"

"Not until I fix this disaster." Kelce's fingers flew across the screen "Okay, we're gonna do a mix. Some stuff that's good for dancing, some stuff that's just good party music. Nothing too slow, nothing too aggressive. We want fun, energetic, but not-" He flayed his free hand around in a circular motion

"Not what?" Rafe asked impatiently

"Not trying too hard. You want it to feel natural, like you didn't completely restructure your entire Spotify for one specific person"

"I didn't-"

"Rafe. Bro. We've been over this. You're a terrible liar"

The music started back up, something with a better beat that immediately felt more right. People gravitated back toward the makeshift dance floor near the pool, and Rafe felt some of the tension in his shoulders ease slightly

"See?" Kelce said, handing the phone back "Better already"

It was better. The energy of the party shifted, people actually moving instead of just standing around. But Rafe barely noticed, his attention caught by movement near the back entrance to the house

His heart jumped, but it was just some girl from his econ class last year, laughing with her friends as they headed toward the drinks table

Not you.

"She'll show" Kelce said quietly, patting Rafe on the back like a sad dog and Rafe realized he'd been staring at the entrance like an idiot. Again.

"What if she doesn't?"

"Then she doesn't, and you deal with it. But stressing about it isn't gonna make her appear any faster"

Rafe knew that. Logically, he knew that. But logic didn't seem to be working very well for him tonight

"I'm gonna get a drink" he announced, needing to do something with his hands that wasn't checking his phone for the hundredth time

"Good idea. Maybe relax a little" Topper suggested

"Easy for you to say" Rafe muttered, but he headed for the drinks table anyway

He'd just grabbed a beer when Topper appeared at his elbow again, Ruthie thankfully absent

"She's texting me about going on a boat day tomorrow," Topper said without hesitation "A boat day, Rafe. She's already planning tomorrow and it's not even midnight."

"That sounds-"

"Suffocating? Yeah" Topper grabbed his own drink. "I need to end this. Like, tonight. Before it gets any worse"

"So end it" Rafe said uninterested, popping the cap off his beer

"It's not that simple!"

"It literally is. You just say 'hey, I don't think this is working out' and then you walk away. People do it all the time"

"When have you ever done that?" Topper challenged with a raised eyebrow 

Rafe opened his mouth, then closed it, Topper had a point. Rafe's usual method of ending things was to just... stop responding until the girl got the hint. Which, now that he thought about it, was probably why he was so stressed about you not responding to his text

Karma was a bitch

"Okay, fine, I'm not the best example" Rafe conceded. "But you should still-"

He stopped mid-sentence, his attention snagged by someone entering through the side gate. His heart rate kicked up immediately, but again, not you. Just Kelce, talking to some guys from the golf club

"Stop doing that!" Topper exclaimed "I can feel your anxiety dude, it’s making me anxious"

"I'm fine"

"You're really not"

They stood in silence for a moment, both nursing their drinks, Topper looking miserable and Rafe feeling miserable, which was a great combination

"Can I ask you something?" Topper said eventually

"Can I stop you?"

"Probably not" Topper turned to face him fully "This girl, whoever she is. Is she worth all this?"

Rafe didn't even have to think about it before nodding "Yeah"

"You really like her, huh?"

"Yeah" Rafe said again, quieter this time "I really do"

It felt like a turning point, admitting it out loud. Like he was making it real, tangible, something he couldn't take back. 

And maybe a few months ago, that would have terrified him. But right now, standing at his own party surrounded by people who didn't matter to him, waiting for the one person who did matter to him

It felt good.

Really good.

"Then she'll come" Topper said with surprising certainty "If she said she would, she will. Just give her time"

Rafe wanted to believe that. He really did. But as the minutes ticked by and the party continued without you, doubt started creeping in with increasing intensity

He tried to distract himself by making rounds, talking to people, playing the host. But his mind wasn't in it. He kept losing track of conversations, his gaze drifting toward the entrance every few seconds, his phone burning a hole in his pocket

By 9:45, Rafe had convinced himself you weren't coming. The pancake text had been too much, or maybe you'd just realized you had better things to do than hang out at a party with him

"Dude, you need to chill," Kelce said, appearing suddenly with Riley in tow

Rafe's attention zeroed in on her immediately. "Is she-"

Riley's face broke into a knowing smile, "She's here. Somewhere, lost her as soon as we came in"

The relief and excitement that flooded through Rafe was almost embarrassing, he quickly realised he was grinning a bit too widely and imediently replaced it with a small smile "Oh. Okay. Cool."

"Very cool" Riley said, her teasing smile widening "She was stressing about what to wear forever. It was kind of adorable"

That shouldn't have made him feel as good as it did. The idea that you'd been stressing about this party, about seeing him. The same way he'd been stressing about seeing you

"Why didn’t she reply" he asked, trying to sound casual

Riley's expression shifted to something almost apologetic "Funny story-"

But Rafe didn't hear whatever she was about to say, because suddenly Kelce was grabbing his arm, spinning him around, and there you were

Standing near the entrance to the backyard, scanning the crowd with an uncertain expression, looking so beautiful it actually made his chest hurt and Rafe's brain completely short-circuited

Your here

For some reason, that was the first coherent thought that managed to push through the static in his head

"She didn’t realise she had opened it" Riley supplied helpfully, following his gaze "she must of opened it while running round the house trying to find a pair of shorts"

But Rafe barely heard her, because your eyes had found his across the crowd, and you smiled, that real smile, the one from Riley's party, the one from the hangouts in your kitchen. And suddenly all the anxiety and uncertainty he was feeling was forgotten

He should go over there. He should definitely go over there. Right now.

"Dude, go" Kelce said, giving him a light shove

Right. Going. He could do that. Except his feet seemed to have forgotten how walking worked, and his brain was still trying to process the fact that you were actually here.

"Rafe" Kelce said, his voice amused "Breathe"

Rafe took a breath, then another one, then forced his legs to move

You met him halfway, weaving through the crowd with an ease he definitely didn't feel, and then you were right there, close enough to touch, looking up at him with those eyes that made him forget how to form sentences

"Hey" you said

"Hey" he managed back. Smooth. Real smooth

"Sorry I'm late. And sorry about the text" You laughed, a little self-conscious. "I was all over the place, I didn’t realise you texted. I know you said don’t bring drinks but I felt bad, so Riley dug this out the cupboard. It really old, like really old, But its better than nothing, so I- " You cut yourself off, realising you were rambling and lifted up the champagne bottle “champagne"

"That's okay," Rafe said, and he meant it "I'm just- I'm glad you made it"

"Yeah?" Your smile widened slightly "you thought I’d bail?"

"I-" He felt his face heat up "I mean, yeah, but, you're-" He was absolutely butchering this "Let me get you a drink"

"Okay" you said, still smiling in a way that suggested you found his awkwardness endearing rather than pathetic, which was something

He led you toward the drinks table, acutely aware of your presence beside him, the way people's eyes followed you as you moved through the crowd. Some of them probably knew you from the country club, others might have recognized you from school, but Rafe found he didn't care about any of that. The only thing that mattered was that you were here

"So what do you want?" he asked when they reached the table, gesturing at the spread of options "We've got pretty much everything"

"Surprise me" you said, abandoning the champagne on the table

Rafe's hands hesitated over the bottles. Surprise you. What did that even mean? Something strong? Something fruity?  

"Rafe" you said gently, and he looked up to find you watching him with amusement "I'm not picky"

He grabbed a half empty bottle of vodka, twisting the cap off, and poured some of it into two empty plastic cups, filling the rest of it up with lemonade. He handed you one. Your fingers brushed his as you took it, and he tried very hard not to think about how much that brief contact affected him

"Thanks" you said, taking a sip. Then you looked around, taking in the party properly "This is, wow. You really went all out, huh?"

"It's not that big of a deal" Rafe said automatically, even though it absolutely was "Just a standard party"

"Uh-huh. A standard Thursday night party that definitely wasn't planned for any specific reason"

He couldn't tell if you were calling him out or just teasing again. Maybe both. "I told you, I like being spontaneous"

"Right. Spontaneous" Your eyes sparkled with something that might have been mischief  "I haven’t heard this song in a while"

Rafe's stomach dropped "is it bad?"

"Nothing! It's good. Really good, actually" You were definitely teasing now "surprisingly good"

"Surprisingly good?" he asked hesitantly, but he could feel his ears burning

You only nodded with a smile before taking another sip of your drink, looking like you were trying very hard not to laugh at him “So where's Riley? I lost her as soon as we got here"

"Probably with Kelce" Rafe said, grateful for the subject change "They're around somewhere"

"Perfect. Operation Wingman is officially in effect" you grinned "I'm thinking we give them about twenty minutes, casually check in and if they aren’t making out by 11, we intervene"

"What kind of intervention are we talking about?"

"I don't know, I'm making this up as I go. Maybe we just casually mention how great they'd be together? Or we could lock them in a closet"

"That seems extreme"

"Love is extreme, Rafe"

He laughed despite himself, some of the tension finally easing from his shoulders. This was good. This was normal. Just two people having a conversation at a party. He could do this

"Come on" you said, nodding toward where people were dancing "We should probably scope out the situation. Do some assessments"

"Assessments" Rafe repeated, his grin showing his amusement

"What? I'm taking this very seriously" you were smiling again, taking his hand in yours and leading him to the pool area. 

Oh my god. 

The contact almost made him faint.

He followed you toward the pool area where most people had congregated, trying not to focus too much on the way the colored lights reflected off your hair, or how you moved through the crowd with easy confidence, or how you looked back at him every few steps like you were making sure he was still there

He watched you scout the area for Riley and Kelce, your expression focused and determined in a way that was somehow both adorable and attractive

But as you turned back to him with a grin, squeezing his hand to pull him closer so you could point out where you'd spotted Riley, Rafe found himself thinking the same thing he had been thinking all afternoon

He really, really liked you

TAGLIST!

@rafeysangelbaby @https-suzuki @cokewithcameron @jinxatdawn @lobot0mies4sale @sunsn0w @silkylovey @wiredswanxoxo @ssugartalkin @lynst91

[pqndxra]

PARTY 4 U!

PREV CHAPTER 8 NEXT

w/c: 3.2k

SYNOPSIS

Rafe had charm, wealth and a reputation that would turn heads wherever he went. He had never even heard of the word no - until he met her. The one woman he couldn’t buy, couldn’t charm and couldn’t stop thinking about. Now, he’s willing to risk everything to have the one thing he can’t seem to touch. You.

CONTENT

swearing, all characters are over 18 (Reader is 20, Rafe is 21), Rafe is an actual sap, Sharp objects mention! shitty writing, lmk if I missed any

A/N!

I’m not even gonna try and make an excuse… I’m so so sorry guys. But I’ve got like 3 more chapters written out so I’ll be sm more consistent

Also! I can’t find some accounts on the tag list so if you have changed your user or I’ve missed you out pls lmk so I can tag the proper accounts!

Rafe Cameron had never been the type to overthink. In his world, you saw what you wanted, and you took it. Simple. Clean. No questions asked. But as he sat in his truck outside a modest house on the Cut at nine in the morning, he was beginning to realize that maybe- just maybe, he’d been lying to himself about the whole “not overthinking” thing.

Because this? This was definitely overthinking.

He’d circled the block twice already, which was ridiculous. He was Rafe Cameron. He didn’t circle blocks. He didn’t second-guess himself. And he certainly didn’t throw last-minute parties just because someone happened to have a day off work.

Except that’s exactly what he was doing.

The party idea had hit him sometime around two in the morning when he couldn’t sleep, his mind inexplicably wandering to the day he saw you at Rileys. The way you smiled- it wasn’t the polite, practiced smile you wore at the country club, but it was real

You weren’t performing for anyone, you weren’t checking to see who was watching or trying to impress anyone

You were just dancing. 

For yourself. 

There was something magnetic about that kind of freedom, that complete lack of self-consciousness. While everyone else had been dancing at each other, you had been in her own world. No matter how hard he tried, Rafe couldn’t forget that night

4 AM, he’d convinced himself that throwing a party was a perfectly normal, a not-at-all-suspicious thing to do

6 AM, he’d already texted half of Figure Eight

8 AM, he was showered, dressed, and sitting in his truck

But now he was outside your house, trying to remember how normal humans knocked on doors

“Just knock” he muttered to himself, hands gripping the steering wheel. “It’s not that fucking hard. People knock on doors all the time”

But what if you weren’t awake yet? What if he woke you up and you answered the door pissed off? What if-

“Jesus fucking christ, Cameron” he said, finally pushing the truck door open before he could talk himself out of it for the third time

The walk to the door felt longer than it should have, the morning air was already humid, promising another scorching Outer Banks day.  Rafe could feel sweat starting to prickle at the back of his neck whether it was from the heat or the nerves he didn’t know

He raised his fist, hesitated, then forced himself to bring it to the door. Three solid knocks. There. Done. No taking it back now

For a few agonizing seconds, nothing happened. Rafe stood there, hands shoved in his pockets, trying to look casual and not at all like someone who’d been sitting in his truck for the past twenty minutes 

He was about to knock again- or maybe just get back in his truck, go home and forget this ever happened. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard movement from inside the house

The door swung open, and there you were

You were wearing an oversized t-shirt that hung off one shoulder and a pair of gray joggers that looked like they’d seen better days. Your hair was pulled back and away from your face, well most of it was anyway. You looked comfortable. You looked like you had just rolled out of bed

and god did you look absolutely beautiful. So beautiful that Rafe had to remind himself to breathe

“Rafe?” You blinked up at him in surprise “What are you doing here?”

“Hey,” he his voice cracked, trying to act casual but probably missed by a mile. “I, uh…I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by”

Your eyebrow arched slightly, a small knowing smile made its way to your face while you crossed your arms teasingly “You were in the neighborhood? On the Cut?”

Okay, so maybe that excuse was weak as shit.

“Okay, fine,” he admitted, rubbing his jaw “I wanted to ask you something, but I realized I don’t have your number…” is voice got quieter

Your smile widened, and you stepped back from the door, gesturing for him to come in before walking towards the kitchen area

Rafe stepped inside, and immediately his senses were flooded with a warm and buttery aroma, his stomach grumbled and he groaned. As if he couldn’t embarrass himself even further

You chuckled slightly, looking over you shoulder towards him as he shut your font door “hungry?”

“What is that smell?” he asked, following you deeper into the house

“Pancakes” you answered over your shoulder, leading him toward the kitchen. “I haven’t made myself a big breakfast in a while, thought id treat myself on my a day off”

The kitchen was just as cozy as he remembered, but now with morning sunlight streaming through the window over the sink he was able to take in small details, the slightly crumpled ‘bucket list’ stuck to the fridge, the discoloured cupboard handles worn from years of use

 The counters were a mess, there was flour scattered across the surface, ingredients dotted around the room, a mixing bowl in the sink, a carton of eggs sitting open next to the stove. And on the stove itself, was a pan with what looked like the most perfect pancake Rafe had ever seen

You moved to the stove with ease, flipping the pancake with a quick flick of your wrist and Rafe nearly fainted on the spot

“So what did you want to ask me? Must be important if you drove all the way out here”

“Oh! Right, yeah,” Rafe said, leaning against the counter and trying to figure out how to make this sound slightly less pathetic than it actually was “So I’m throwing a party tonight. At my place. Nothing huge, just some people hanging out, you know. And I thought, I mean, since you have the day off and everything - maybe you’d want to come?”

You plated the golden pancake onto the plate beside you, a smirk playing on your lips and Rafe had the uncomfortable feeling that you could see straight through him “A party huh? What’s the occasion?”

“Yeah, well, you know how it is” he said, trying to aim for nonchalant (key word: trying) “Sometimes you just gotta be spontaneous”

“Uh huh.” You teased while you poured more batter onto the pan “And this spontaneous party just happens to be on my day off?”

“Pure coincidence” Rafe gruffly and a little too quickly

You let out a light laugh, and the sound of it made something warm unfurl in Rafe’s chest

 “Sure…’ you tease “I appreciate the invitation, i’ll think about it. You want some pancakes while you’re here?”

“Oh no, that’s okay,” Rafe said automatically “I don’t want to impose or anything”

You suddenly turned to look at him, pointing your spatula, offense plastered on your face “I’m sorry? Is my cooking not good enough for you anymore, Cameron?”

“What? No, I didn’t-”

“Because I’ll have you know these are the best pancakes on the entire island” you continued, fighting back a smile “Multiple people have told me so. There have been awards”

Rare physically deflated in relief at your now playful tone “Awards for pancakes?”

“Obviously fake awards that I made up, but still” you muttered, plating the new pancake and sliding it in front of him along with a fork you swiped from the draw “sit down. You’re eating pancakes.”

Rafe found himself obeying without protest, awkwardly sliding onto one of the bar stools. You pushed a syrup bottle toward him and grabbed your own plate, taking the seat next to him. Your body sat sideways towards him, knees brushing the side of his thigh

“There” you smiled, cutting into your own fluffy pancake “I hate eating breakfast alone”

Rafes lips tilted upwards slightly while he cut a piece of his pancake and took a bite, and holy shit you werent kidding

They were fluffy and perfectly sweet, with just the right amount of butter and syrup He groaned in awe without meaning to

“See?” You said beamed “Told you! Best on the island”

“Shit, you weren’t lying. Might actually have to get you an award” Rafe admitted, taking another bite “These are really good”

They ate in comfortable silence for a few moments, and Rafe found himself relaxing despite his earlier nerves

He suddenly thought about the other night, the dark but comforting ambience of cooking pasta at 2am, watching shitty 2000s movies, and steamy kisses on the worn sofa. And now he was again, sitting in you kitchen, eating pancakes, with morning sunlight warming the room. It felt domestic in a way that should have scared him but somehow didn’t

“So about this party,” you began, breaking the silence “What time?”

“Probably around 8:30?” Rafe said. “People will show up whenever, you know how it goes”

“And by people, you mean half of Figure Eight?”

“Pretty much,” he admitted with a grin. “Topper’s coming, obviously” you rolled your eyes at that.  “And I think Kelce mentioned something about bringing some people. Should be good”

Your eyes lit up at that. “Wait, is Kelce bringing Riley?”

“Riley?” Rafe tried to place the name “That girl he’s been hanging around with?”

“Yes! Oh my god, this is perfect!”

Rafe watched your excitement with an amused smirk. “Riley? Your roommate?”

“Yeah! so cute together. I’ve been trying to figure out how to get them in the same room without it being obvious, and this is literally perfect.” You turned to him with a grin “I’m going to wingman so hard tonight”

“You’re really invested in this, huh?”

“Someone has to be! Left to their own devices, they’d just make eyes at each other from across rooms forever without actually talking. It’s painful to watch.” You pointed her fork at him. “You should help me.”

“Me? I’m not a wingman.”

“Please, you’re Rafe Cameron. Half of being you is convincing people to do things they wouldn’t normally do”

“I feel like that’s not exactly a compliment”

You laughed “you know what i mean. It got us here, didn’t it?”

Rafe found himself smiling despite himself “Okay, fine. But if this blows up in their faces, I’m blaming you”

“Deal” she said, offering her hand for him to shake.

He took it, her hand warm in his, and held it maybe a second longer than necessary. When he let go, she didn’t comment on it, just went back to her pancakes like nothing had happened

They fell into easy conversation after that. She told him about the book she was reading, some thriller that she kept him updated on even though he’d never expressed particular interest in reading. He found himself listening anyway, watching the way her face animated when she talked about something she was passionate about.

“So she looks into the dollhouse, and the floor was made out of teeth! It was Amma the whole freaking time!” You said, gesturing with her fork for emphasis “Like, the whole time! ”

“That’s horrifying” Rafe said, and he meant it

“Right?” She paused “You should read it.”

“Me? I don’t really do the whole reading thing.”

”you can’t read?”

Rafe gave her a playful eye roll which you chuckled at

“Come on, you’d love it. It’s dark and twisty, lots and lots of morally gray characters. Very your vibe”

“My vibe is morally gray characters?”

“Is it not?” You raised an eyebrow at him, challenging, but there was no judgment in her voice

A year ago, maybe even six months ago, he would have blown up at that. Would have gotten defensive, insisted he was perfectly fine. But something about the way you said it, like you saw it but made it feel less like an accusation

“Maybe,” he shrugs but didn’t elaborate

They moved on to other topics, you asked about his plans for the fall, and he found himself telling you about the plans Rode made for him about taking over Cameron development

”you looking forward to it?” 

“I don’t know” he admitted, surprising himself “but its what Ward wanted, so I guess it doesn’t matter”

“Of course it matters,” You frowned, biting of another piece of pancake “It’s your life, Rafe. You should get to decide what you do with it”

When he didn’t respond, you glanced up at him. Watching as he mindlessly tore shuffled bits of pancake around the plate

“I think you’d be good at whatever you decided to do. You’re smart, even if you try to hide it sometimes. And you’re determined. When you want something, you go after it.”

Rafe looked up at you “ and how would you know?”

“Because I’ve seen it” you shrugged “You’re not as hard to read as you think you are”

He wanted to ask what else you had seen, what else you had figured out about him in their scattered, small conversations throughout high school up until now. But before he could work up the courage, you were already standing up, and gathering their empty plates

“More pancakes?” 

“I shouldn’t” Rafe said, even though part of him wanted to say yes just to stay a little longer

“You sure?”

“I’m good, thanks.” He checked his phone and was surprised to find it was already past ten. He’d been here for over an hour, and it had felt like no more than fifteen minutes “I should probably get going anyway. Still got some stuff to set up for tonight”

“the party” she said, loading the plates into the dishwasher. “I’m guessing people don’t turn up as soon as it starts”

“Yeah, people start showing up round 9, 9;30”

“Cool, I’ll bring Riley, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, of course” Rafe said, standing up. “The more the merrier, I guess”

He followed you back to the front door, suddenly reluctant to leave. But he had things to do, last-minute party things that he definitely hadn’t thought through when he’d decided to throw this together

You opened the door for him, leaning against it with a soft smile “Thanks for stopping by, haven’t had company in a while, it was nice”

“Yeah,” Rafe agreed, meaning it more than he probably should. “It was nice”

He was halfway down the front steps when he remembered. The whole reason he’d been sitting in his truck having a crisis. He turned back quickly, catching you before you could close the door

“Wait! can I get your number?”

You paused, that knowing smile made its way back onto your face “My number?”

“Yeah, I mean-” Rafe shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to look casual “Just so I can send you the address for tonight. My place can be hard to find if you’ve never been there”

You held back a chuckle, TannyHill, the biggest house on the island was hard to find? Sure…

“Uh-huh” you drew out the syllables “kinda blends in with all the other mansions”

He pursed his lips and gave you a stiff nod

You pulled out your phone anyway, unlocking it and handing it to him silently. Rafe suddenly sprung into action, almost tripping over one of the steps before clearing his throat and taking the phone from your hands almost sheepishly

He typed in his contact information, trying not to let his hands shake from the stupid adrenaline rush this was giving him. It was just a phone number. People exchanged phone numbers all the time. This wasn’t a big deal

Except it felt like the biggest deal. Ever.

He handed your phone back and immediately felt his own buzz in his pocket as she sent him a text. He saved your contact, trying not to think too hard about the fact that he now had a direct line to you whenever he wanted

You tucked your phone back into your pocket, your smirk now widened into a grin that you couldn’t contain no matter how much you tried “Now you can send me that very necessary address that I definitely couldn’t find on my own”

“I’ll send it later” Rafe said, fighting back the same smile

“Looking forward to it” 

You both stood there for another moment, neither quite ready to say goodbye. He went to turn away fist but decided against it, turning back to you with a hesitant expression

“So I’ll see you tonight?” he finally said

“Yeah, definitely. Is it BYOB?”

“Not for you”

“I’m holding you to that” you promised with a laugh

“Please do”

You  pushed off the doorframe, giving him a small wave “Drive safe”

“Always do” he lied, because they both knew his driving was actually kind of terrible

He made himself turn and walk back to his truck before he could find another excuse to stay. As he climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine, he could see you still standing in the doorway, watching him with that soft smile that made his chest feel tight

He lifted his hand in a final wave, and you returned it once more before stepping back inside and closing the door

Rafe sat there for a moment, engine running, staring at the modest house that somehow felt more like home than his own place ever had. His phone burned in his pocket, and he immediately pulled it out to see her contact information staring back at him, just her name and number, simple and straightforward, but to him it felt like the most important thing in the world

He should go. He had a party to prepare for, people to text, supplies to buy. He had approximately nine hours to make this hastily thrown-together party look like something he’d been planning for weeks, and he couldn’t do that sitting in his truck staring at a paint-chipped door

But as he pulled away from the curb, already mentally typing out the text he’d send you later (just the address, obviously, nothing more) Rafe suddenly come to terms with something he had been avoiding this entire time

He was in trouble. Big trouble.

Because somewhere between the first party, the 2AM pasta date and the way you let him in for breakfast with no hesitation, he’d realized something terrifying.

 Rafe really, really liked you.

Not in the casual way he’d liked other girls, the way that faded as soon as they weren’t in front of him anymore,This was different. This felt important. Like it mattered

But Rafe Cameron had never been good at handling things that mattered.

However, As he drove back toward Figure Eight, already having had planned what he’d say in that text later, he found himself thinking that maybe, just maybe, he wanted to try. For you, he wanted to try being someone who could handle this Someone who could take this fragile, new thing between them and not fuck it up completely

His phone buzzed again, and he glanced at it at a red light. Texts from you, just a simple: 

would it be overkill if I brought pancakes?

It’s actually concerning how much I over estimate portions fml

Rafe smiled, a real genuine smile that he couldn’t have hidden if he tried, and typed back:

wouldn’t be against it

Yeah, he was definitely in trouble. But as he drove through the summer morning with her text still on his screen and plans already forming for tonight, Rafe found that he didn’t mind nearly as much as he thought he would.

For once, trouble felt like exactly where he wanted to be.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

TAGLIST!

@rafeysangelbaby @https-suzuki @cokewithcameron @jinxatdawn @lobot0mies4sale @sunsn0w @silkylovey @wiredswanxoxo @ssugartalkin @lynst91

[pqndxra]

PARTY 4 U!

PREV CHAPTER 7 NEXT

w/c: 5.3k

SYNOPSIS

Rafe had charm, wealth and a reputation that would turn heads wherever he went. He had never even heard of the word no - until he met her. The one woman he couldn’t buy, couldn’t charm and couldn’t stop thinking about. Now, he’s willing to risk everything to have the one thing he can’t seem to touch. You.

CONTENT

swearing, all characters are over 18 (Reader is 20, Rafe is 21), TOPPER, Sofia being a cunt, Rafe being down bad again, lowkey bullying, Barry mentioned! shitty writing, ITALICS ARE HIGH SCHOOL FLASHBACK, lmk if I missed any

A/N!

hey.....

You hadn't meant to see it. You'd just been heading to your locker after staying late in the library when you heard familiar voices coming from the empty chemistry classroom. The door was cracked open just enough to reveal Topper Thornton pressed against some junior girl who definitely wasn't Sarah Cameron

Your first instinct was to back away quietly, pretend you'd never seen anything. But then you thought about Sarah, sweet, trusting Sarah who'd been nothing but kind to you whenever you crossed paths

You were almost past the door when Topper's voice stopped you cold

"Shit." He'd spotted you through the crack, and now he was pushing the blonde away, running his hands through his disheveled hair. "Shit, shit, shit"

The junior (some girl you recognized from your AP History class) looked between you and Topper with wide eyes "Is everything okay?"

"It's fine," Topper said quickly, his voice tight with panic. "Just... you should go. I'll text you later"

She grabbed her backpack and slipped past you without making eye contact, clearly wanting no part of whatever was about to happen

Topper stepped fully into the hallway, closing the classroom door behind him. His face was flushed, his polo slightly wrinkled, and there was lip gloss on his collar that definitely wasn't Sarah's

"Look," he started, his voice taking on that smooth, persuasive tone he used when he wanted something "What you just saw-"

"I saw you cheating," you interrupted, adjusting your bag's strap and crossing your arms, your bangles jingling at the motion. "Pretty clearly"

His jaw clenched "It's not- it-it's complicated, okay? Sarah and I, we've been having some issues and-"

"So you thought you'd work them out with Emma Morrison?"

"Jesus, keep it down," Topper hissed, glancing nervously down the hallway toward the main office where the odd student or two stalked past "Look, I know how this looks, but-"

"It looks like you're cheating," you said bluntly "Because that's what you were doing"

Topper's face was drained of color, but he forced his voice to stay level. "You don't understand. Sarah's been... distant, busy with family stuff or whatever... This thing with Emma, it's not even anything"

"'Thing with Emma?' You've done this before?" Your eyes widened and you recoiled in disgust "Fucking hell, Topper"

"L-look! It was just... a few times, okay? It doesn't mean anything. Sarah never has to know"

The casual way he said it made your blood boil "She deserves to know"

Topper stepped closer, his expression shifting from pleading to threatening "No, she doesn't. You're not going to tell her"

You could only scoff "Dude, are you kidding?"

"Think about it," Topper cut you off, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You really want to ruin me and Sarah over some meaningless hookups? This would destroy her"

"Topper, I'm not gonna sit here while you give Sarah a STD"

"Don't be a bitch." Topper snarled, his mask finally slipping completely "You're a Pogue"

"Ouch," you sarcastically held a hand to your heart, feigning offense "Low bar."

"You're jealous. Sarah is happy. You want to make her as miserable as you are"

"This has nothing to do with jealousy. It's basic human decency. Something you clearly know nothing about"

Topper laughed, a harsh sound that echoed in the near-empty hallway "Decency? You want to talk about knowing shit? Know your place"

"Sarah's my friend," you said firmly

"Your friend?" Topper's voice was full of disbelief "Sarah Cameron doesn't have friends like you. She has charity projects. She feels sorry for people like you because her daddy taught her to be kind to help"

You forced yourself not to react "Damn, you're just making shit up now"

"Am I? When's the last time Sarah hung out with you outside of school? When's the last time she invited you to Tannyhill? You're nothing more to her than a good deed. To feel good about herself"

"Even if that were true," you said, your voice steady despite the way his words were cutting into your chest, "she still deserves to know that her boyfriend is a cheating piece of shit"

Topper's face went red "Fine," his voice turning cold and calculated "You're even stupider than I thought. I can make your senior year hell”

"Nice threat. I'm shaking"

"Not a threat. I'm promising you," Topper said, stepping so close you could smell his sickening cologne mixed with Emma's vanilla perfume "Stay out of my business"

Topper stared at you for a long moment, something dark flickering in his eyes. "You'll regret this," he said finally. "I'll make sure everyone at this school knows exactly what kind of person you really are"

He pushed past you roughly, his shoulder slamming into yours as he stormed toward the main entrance. You stood there for a moment, your heart pounding, knowing you'd just probably committed social suicide

But as you thought about Sarah, you knew you'd made the right choice

Some things were worth the consequences.

After school, Topper found Rafe Cameron exactly where he'd expected; on his boat, beer in hand, staring out at the water with that brooding expression that seemed permanently etched on his face.

"Dude," Topper called out as he climbed aboard. "You're not gonna believe what just happened"

Rafe didn't even glance up, his blue eyes slightly unfocused "What?"

"Some guy was talking serious shit about you"

That got Rafe's attention. His expression darkened as he set down his beer. "What guy?"

He couldn't exactly tell Rafe the truth, that he'd just had it out with you. Rafe had always been... different when it came to you. He'd never admit it, but Topper had seen the way his friend's eyes followed you around school, the way he went quiet when you were mentioned.

"Some Pogue," Topper lied smoothly "Overheard him at the marina, talking about seeing you with Barry"

Rafe's jaw tightened. "So what?"

"Said he was gonna go to Ward" Topper watched as Rafe's shoulders tensed. "Trying to get some hush money out of him."

"Who?" Rafe's voice was dangerously quiet now

"I don't know his name, but I saw his car. Piece of shit Ford, parked over at the club earlier"

Rafe stood up abruptly, pacing the small deck "So what?"

"Maybe we should pay his car a little visit. Get some cans, use that shitty club you want to get rid of"

For a moment, Rafe hesitated Topper held his breath, worried that his friend might actually ask more questions

But then Rafe's expression hardened into something cold and familiar

"Yeah," Rafe said finally "Let's do it."

The sun had fully set by the time you finished your shift and made your way to where you'd parked your car. You mentally cursed as you rolled your shoulders, trying to get rid of the ache settling in your bones. But then you rounded the corner and saw your car

The windshield was spider-webbed with cracks. Both side mirrors hung at odd angles, barely attached. Deep scratches ran along both sides of the car along with an array of colors splattered onto the silver metal, and someone had kicked in the driver's side door. Your headlights were smashed, glass scattered across the gravel

"What the fuck?" you whispered, your shoulders squaring defensively as you approached the destruction

A piece of paper was tucked under what remained of your windshield wiper. With trembling fingers, you pulled it out and unfolded it

Know your place.

The handwriting was unfamiliar, but the message was clear

Your mind immediately went to Topper, but this seemed extreme even for him. As if summoned by your thoughts, you heard familiar laughter echoing from the direction of the marina. Male voices, multiple people

You followed the sound with quiet steps, your heart pounding with a mixture of rage and dread. As you got closer to the club's patio, the voices became clearer

"Jesus, I think there's glass in my shoe"

"Bro, I got paint on the seats-"

"Cameron, did you get the cameras wiped?"

The blood drained from your face. Rafe. Rafe had been involved

You crept closer, staying in the shadow around the corner until you could see them clearly. Topper, Kelce, and Rafe, all sitting on the patio chairs, passing around a bottle of whiskey, laughing about what they'd done to your car

Your dad's car, technically. The one he'd bought used three years ago and had been so proud of because it was the first car he'd ever been able to buy without financing

"Think we got the message across?" Kelce was asking.

"Oh, definitely" Topper replied, and you could hear the smug satisfaction in his voice. "Some people need to learn the hard way"

Rafe laughed, and the sound felt like a knife twisting in your chest. "Next time maybe Pogues think twice before talking shit"

You'd heard enough. More than enough

Moving as quietly as possible, you made your way back toward the parking lot, your mind racing. They were about to learn that you weren't intimidated that easily

It took you twenty minutes to find what you needed. Topper's boat. It was a pristine 35-foot cabin cruiser that probably cost more than what most people make in a year. It was his pride and joy, the thing he bragged about at every party, the symbol of his status and superiority

Not for much longer.

The water was cold and dark, but your anger kept you warm as you located the hull and got to work. By the time you surfaced, you could already see water beginning to seep in, covering the polished wooden floors. It would be slow at first, but by morning, Topper's precious boat would be sitting on the bottom of the marina

Topper was bound to figure out it was you.

He was an entitled ass, but he wasn't stupid. And apparently, the marina had security cameras that showed a figure diving in and hovering around the sides

It took him less than a day to put two and two together

But instead of confronting you directly, Topper did what rich kids always did when things didn't go their way

He went to his daddy.

And his daddy went to Ward Cameron.

You found out about your father's termination the same way he did, a phone call at seven in the morning from Ward's assistant, informing him that his services were no longer required by Cameron Development, effective immediately

"I don't understand," your father kept saying as he hung up the phone "I've been with the company for eight years. Never any complaints. Why would they-"

You knew why. The guilt was eating you alive.

And as the weeks passed and your family's savings dwindled, as your mother picked up extra shifts and your father's pride crumbled a little more each day, the knowledge sat in your stomach like a lead weight

This was your fault. Your moment of petty revenge had cost your family everything

The worst part was seeing Rafe and his ass-lickers at school, acting like nothing had happened. Rafe would nod when your paths crossed in the hallway, might even smirk like you shared some kind of inside joke

You wanted to hate him. God, you wanted to hate him so badly it physically hurt. But late at night, when you couldn't sleep because you could hear your parents whispering worriedly in the next room about mortgage payments and college funds, you found yourself remembering the way he'd looked at you sometimes. Those brief moments when his cocky facade would slip and you'd catch him watching you with something that looked almost like longing

Were you that stupid?

The question tormented you, but you never got answers. Because three months later, when your father finally found work in Charleston, he started staying later at the job site. Until one day he left for work and simply never came home. No call, no text, no explanation

Word traveled fast on this island, especially bad news. And you had no doubt that your very public blowup with Topper Thornton yesterday had already made its way through the Figure Eight gossip mill

You barely slept last night, knowing the damage was already done. The wound he'd torn open was still raw and painful in the harsh light of morning

Riley had tried to convince you to call in sick, to give yourself another day to recover from the humiliation. But you couldn't afford to miss work, not when you were already on thin ice. Besides, hiding would only make things worse. Better to face the whispers and stares head-on

You checked your reflection in the rearview mirror one more time, making sure your concealer had hidden the dark circles under your eyes. Then, with a deep breath that did nothing to calm your racing heart, you got out of the car and walked toward the employee entrance

The moment you stepped inside, you felt it. The weight of attention, the burn of eyes tracking your movement across the room. Conversations that had been flowing naturally just moments before seemed to freeze as you passed, resuming in hushed whispers once you were out of earshot

"Oh, you're in" Sofia's voice traveled from behind the main bar, sweet as honey but sharp as broken glass. She was already perfectly put together despite the early hour, her hair arranged in effortless waves and her makeup flawless. "I wasn't sure we'd see you today after yesterday's... performance"

You forced yourself to meet her gaze steadily as you smoothed out your shirt "Morning, Sofia. I'm ready to start"

"Oh, I'm sure you are” Sofia's smile was all teeth, predatory and satisfied "I'm surprised management didn't say anything to you. Making scenes in front of the members is usually enough for someone to be fired"

The words sent a spike of anxiety through your chest, but you kept your expression neutral. You couldn't give Sofia the satisfaction of seeing how she affected you. Instead, you began your opening routine, checking inventory and preparing the bar for the day's service

"Of course," Sofia continued, apparently not done with her psychological warfare, "I suppose having the right connections can make all the difference. Amazing how quickly problems disappear when someone decides to make a few phone calls"

You paused in your inventory count, her words sinking in

Sofia kept pressing, moving closer "I would have thought you'd be more grateful. After all, it's not every day that someone like you gets a second chance after crashing out like that"

The word hung in the air. Sofia was trying to bait you into reacting, trying to get you to lose your temper again so she could run to management. You could see it in her eyes, the anticipation, the way she was practically vibrating with excitement

But before you could formulate a response that wouldn't get you fired, another voice cut through the tension

"Sofia" Rafe's voice was quiet but carried an edge of warning. "Back off"

You looked up to see him approaching the bar, his expression dark as he fixed his gaze on Sofia. She immediately shifted, her predatory smile melting into something more innocent and confused

"Rafe! I didn't see you come in" Sofia's tone was completely different now, light and welcoming. "I was just catching up with-"

"I heard" Rafe interrupted, his voice still low and steady.

Sofia's cheeks flushed pink, whether from embarrassment or anger, you couldn't tell "I don't know what you mean. I was just-"

"You were just leaving" Rafe said, and though his tone was conversational, there was hardness beneath the words "Weren't you?"

For a moment, Sofia looked like she might argue. Her eyes flicked between you and Rafe, and you could practically see her weighing her options. Finally, she seemed to decide that discretion was the better part of valor

"Of course" she said, her smile becoming brittle "I've got a lot to do anyway" She gathered her things with sharp, efficient movements "Rafe, we should catch up later. Maybe dinner?"

"Maybe," Rafe replied noncommittally, but his attention was already focused elsewhere

Sofia left, leaving awkward silence in her wake. You resumed your inventory with renewed focus, hyperaware of Rafe's presence but determined not to acknowledge it. You couldn't afford to be seen engaging in personal conversations during work hours, especially not after yesterday's incident

"I can handle her myself you know"

"You okay?" Rafe asked quietly, ignoring your previous statement before sliding onto one of the bar stools.

You didn't look up from your clipboard "I'm fine. Just working."

"That's not what I meant"

This time you did glance up, meeting his eyes briefly before returning to your task "I have a job to do, Rafe. You should probably go find your friends or something"

"My friends are assholes" he said bluntly, causing you to pause in your counting

"They're your friends" you pointed out.

"Doesn't make them less of assholes" Rafe drummed his fingers against the bar top. "Look, about yesterday-"

"There's nothing to talk about" You moved to the other end of the bar, hoping he'd take the hint and leave "It happened, it's over, and I need to work"

But Rafe didn't leave. Wouldn't. And you didn't know whether that excited you or annoyed you

Instead, he just moved to a different stool, maintaining his position at the bar while you worked around him

It was infuriating but kind of comforting at the same time. He wasn't trying to have a conversation, he wasn't demanding your attention, but his presence was a steady, reassuring constant as you tried to block out the whispers and stares of the club's members

The lunch rush began around noon. You threw yourself into the familiar rhythm of taking orders, mixing drinks, and serving tables. It was easier to ignore the pointed looks and hushed conversations when you were busy, when you had concrete tasks to focus on rather than your own discomfort

Club members obviously had to talk about it, not even caring if you were close enough to hear You bit your tongue and prepared their drinks with steady hands, reminding yourself that their words said more about them than they did about you. But each comment, each pointed look, each whispered conversation felt like another small cut, death by a thousand paper cuts until you felt raw and exposed

Through it all, Rafe remained at the bar. He ordered food when the lunch menu became available, nursed a single beer for hours, and occasionally made polite conversation with other members who stopped by But his presence was clearly intentional, a silent statement of support that you weren't sure how to interpret

Around two o'clock, Topper and Kelce finally made their appearance. You tensed immediately, your hands stilling on the glass you'd been polishing as they approached the bar area. Topper looked drained, his usual pristine appearance slightly disheveled, and there were dark circles under his eyes that suggested he'd had as rough a night as you had

"Hey," Kelce said, his tone attempting levity but falling flat "How are you doing?"

You didn't respond, focusing instead on arranging bottles behind the bar. But Topper was staring at you with an expression you couldn't quite read, part guilt, part defiance, part something that might have been regret

"Look-" Topper started, but you cut him off

"Don't." The single word was quiet but carried absolute authority "Just don't even try"

Topper's jaw worked like he wanted to argue, but he decided against it. Instead, he tapped the table awkwardly and stalked off toward the pool area, Kelce trailing behind him with an uncomfortable laugh

The afternoon wore on in much the same fashion. You worked steadily, serving drinks and clearing tables while hyperaware of every whispered conversation and sideways glance. The initial intensity of the attention began to fade as the day progressed, gossip had a short shelf life among the country club set, and there were always new scandals to dissect. But the underlying current of judgment remained, a constant reminder of your precarious position in this world of privilege and power

Rafe never left his post at the bar. He worked on his laptop for a while, made a few phone calls, and had brief conversations with various members who stopped by. But his attention kept returning to you, watching for signs of distress or discomfort 

It was both touching and frustrating 

you appreciated his concern, but his constant vigilance only served to highlight how out of place you were in this environment

Around four o'clock, Sarah Cameron made an unexpected appearance. Rafe's younger sister looked around the club with barely concealed disdain before making her way to the bar, her expression softening when she saw you

"Hey," she said simply, sliding onto the stool next to her brother, not paying him any mind. "How are you holding up?"

The kindness in her voice nearly made you sob. Sarah had always been different from the rest of her family, more grounded and genuine despite her privileged upbringing. Her concern felt real in a way that made your throat tight with emotion

"I'm fine," you managed, though your voice was slightly hoarse from hours of forced professional pleasantness

"No, you're not," Sarah said matter-of-factly. "And that's fine, I mean, what happened was insane"

"Sarah-" Rafe warned, once again trying to jump to your rescue, but she held up a hand to silence him

"I'm serious. Half the people whispering about you today are just embarrassed that they didn't do anything to stop it"

You looked up at her, disbelieving "Really?"

"Really. Mrs. Chen was just telling my dad this morning that she would have thrown her drink in Topper's face"

Despite everything, you felt a small smile tug at the corners of your mouth. Mrs. Chen was notorious for her proper demeanor and strict social protocols. The idea of her approving of drink-throwing was almost flattering

"Besides," Sarah continued, "anyone with half a brain knows that Topper's been spiraling lately, His parents' divorce is getting messy, and he's been taking it out on everyone around him. You just happened to be a convenient target"

The information didn't excuse Topper's behavior, but it did provide some context. Not that it made his words hurt any less

Sarah stayed for another twenty minutes, chatting easily about neutral topics and helping to normalize the atmosphere around the bar. Her presence seemed to give other members permission to treat you normally again, to stop treating you like a fascinating disaster and start seeing you as a person doing her job

Thank the lord for the Camerons

After she left, the whispers and stares continued to diminish. By five o'clock, the lunch crowd had mostly cleared out, leaving behind the usual regulars who spent their afternoons drinking and gossiping by the pool. The intensity of the morning's scrutiny had faded into background noise, and you began to hope that the worst of it was over

But Rafe still remained by the bar, now openly watching you work with an intensity that made you increasingly uncomfortable. Every time you glanced in his direction, his eyes were on you, studying your face like he was trying to read your thoughts

"You don't have to babysit me" you said finally, unable to stand the silence any longer. "I'm not going to have another breakdown"

"I'm not babysitting you" Rafe replied. "I'm just... here"

"Why?"

The question hung in the air between you, loaded with all the complexity of your situation. Rafe was quiet for a long moment, his fingers tracing patterns on the condensation from his beer bottle

"Because I want to be," he said finally. "Yesterday was fucked up. Should've stepped in sooner. And you shouldn't have to deal with this shit alone"

"I can handle it myself. I don't need someone here," you said quietly.

"Doesn't mean you should have to"

The words were so simple, so matter-of-fact, but they hit you with unexpected force. You'd been taking care of yourself for so long that the idea of someone wanting to share that burden seemed almost foreign. Dangerous, too, because wanting help and not getting it hurts worse than never having the option at all

The next few hours passed in a strange sort of companionable silence. You worked steadily, preparing for the dinner service and helping the evening shift get set up. Rafe continued his vigil at the bar, occasionally making conversation with other members but never straying far from his post

As closing time approached, you began your end-of-shift routine with a mixture of relief and exhaustion. The day had been emotionally draining, a constant battle between maintaining your professional composure and dealing with the fallout from yesterday's confrontation. You were ready to go home, to collapse on your couch with Riley and try to process everything that had happened

"Long day" Rafe observed as you counted down your register.

"Yeah" you agreed, not trusting yourself to say more.

"Your shift's almost over"

It wasn't a question, but you nodded anyway "Just need to finish cleaning up"

You completed your closing tasks with practiced ease, hyperaware of Rafe's continued presence but trying not to think too hard about what it meant. When you finally clocked out and gathered your things, you half-expected him to have disappeared. But he was still there, waiting patiently as you prepared to leave

The employee parking lot was pretty much empty when you walked to your car, the sun hanging low and stretching shadows across the gravel

Part of you hoped Rafe hadn't followed you out here. You'd been replaying the way you'd snapped at him all night, cringing at how you'd let yourself snap at Rafe when he was just trying to help

You wondered what you would even say to him. Do you brush over it and pretend it never happened? Or do you just get on your knees and beg for forgiveness before whatever this infatuation he has with you ends?

Because no matter how much you didn't want to admit it, you were still the same girl from high school

"Wait," an all-too-familiar voice echoed throughout the lot, causing you to pause before turning around with a tight smile

He was standing a few feet away, his expression uncertain in a way that seemed at odds with his usual confidence. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of everything that had happened over the past two days settling between you like a physical presence

"I wanted to apologize," the words tumbled out before you could stop them "For yesterday, for how I acted, what I said. I was upset and I took it out on you, and that wasn't fair"

Rafe's eyebrows shot up in surprise "You're apologizing to me?"

"Yes. It was unprofessional, and I said things-"

"Stop" Rafe stepped closer, his expression intense

"But-"

"No, I'm telling-"

"Let me apologize, Rafe!" you exclaimed, rolling your shoulders before sighing "You were just trying to help. I wasn't being fair"

Rafe shook his head "You didn't do anything wrong"

His voice made something tight in your chest begin to loosen. The guilt and humiliation swirled through your head

"I could have handled it better. Should've," you corrected quietly.

"Maybe," Rafe ran a hand through his hair, a gesture you were beginning to recognize as a sign of his own discomfort "But anyone else would've done the same. Some even worse"

You only stared at him. It was a foreign concept, the idea that you had the right to defend yourself, that your feelings mattered as much as anyone else's

"Thank you again," you said finally "For today, I mean. For making Sofia back off, for... for staying. I know you probably had better things to do"

Rafe's expression softened "Nowhere else I wanted to be"

The simple statement hit you with unexpected force, and you found yourself blinking back tears you hadn't realized were threatening

"And thank you for saving my job," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. "Sofia said... she implied that someone made phone calls, pulled strings"

"Talked to management," Rafe shrugged. "Made sure they knew Topper was the problem, not you. And yeah, I might've mentioned that the Camerons pay a shit-ton to be members there." He gave a slight shrug. "They're not stupid. They know which side to take"

You stared at him in shock "You threatened to pull your family's membership?"

"Stated facts, Let them draw their own conclusions," Rafe corrected with a slight smile

The magnitude of what he'd done for you was nothing short of overwhelming. Country club memberships were symbols of social status. For Rafe to risk his family's standing over your job security was almost incomprehensible

"Why?" you asked, echoing your earlier question but with different weight behind it now

Rafe was quiet for a moment, his gaze seemed to become distant, aimed toward the ground in front of him as if he was deep in thought before his attention diverted back to your face

"I care about what happens to you."

The admission hung in the air between you, fragile and precious and terrifying all at once. You wanted to respond, to tell him that you cared about what happened to him too, that his presence today had meant more to you than he could possibly know. But the words stuck in your throat, too big to voice

Instead, you did something that surprised both of you

you stepped forward and hugged him.

He froze for a split second, clearly not expecting it, his arms hovering awkwardly at his sides. Then something in him relaxed and his arms came up around you, one hand settling on your back, the other at your lower back. He held you carefully, like he was afraid you might pull away. His chin rested on top of your head and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding

"Thank you" you said again, because it was the only thing you could trust yourself to say without revealing too much.

"Stop thanking me" Rafe said softly. "I meant what I said last night"

You nodded, not trusting your voice to remain steady if you tried to speak

The evening air was warm around you, carrying the scent of saltwater and jasmine from the club's landscaping. In the distance, you could hear the sound of laughter and conversation from the dining room, the comfortable sounds of a world that you never had much experience in

But standing here in the parking lot with Rafe, you felt something you hadn't felt in a long time, the possibility that maybe, just maybe, you weren't as alone as you'd always believed

It was a dangerous thing to hope for, you knew. The sea between your worlds was still there, as vast and treacherous as ever.

There would be more Toppers, more Sofias, more moments when the differences in your backgrounds would be thrown into turmoil. There would be judgment and whispers and the constant pressure of not quite belonging

But maybe, you thought as you watched Rafe's face in the orange sun, maybe some things were worth the risk. Maybe some people were worth the whispers, even when everything you'd learned about life told you to guard your heart more carefully

"I should go," you gulped, though you made no move toward your car

"Yeah," Rafe agreed, but he didn't step back either "You working tomorrow?"

You thought for a moment, debating the two options: work and wear yourself out even more, or take advantage of Rafe's leverage on the club and give yourself a well-deserved day off "No, I'm not," you concluded, smiling to yourself

"No?" He wore the same grin.

"No," you stated more confidently. "I'm taking the day off" You declared as you raised your eyebrows at him before turning around slowly, away from Rafe, still smiling to yourself

"Good"

"Exactly"

You took a few steps toward your car before you looked over your shoulder, still wearing the same smile. "Goodnight, Rafe"

"Goodnight"

TAGLIST!

@rafeysangelbaby @https-suzuki @cokewithcameron @jinxatdawn @lobot0mies4sale @sunsn0w @lynst91 @silkylovey

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PARTY 4 U!

PREV CHAPTER 6 NEXT

w/c: 3.4k

SYNOPSIS

Rafe had charm, wealth and a reputation that would turn heads wherever he went. He had never even heard of the word no - until he met her. The one woman he couldn’t buy, couldn’t charm and couldn’t stop thinking about. Now, he’s willing to risk everything to have the one thing he can’t seem to touch. You.

CONTENT

swearing, drinking, argument, Topper being a drunk dick, Sofia being a bitch, j*bs all characters are over 18 (Reader is 20, Rafe is 21), Rafe being a down bad, mention of bullying in high school, reader kinda being a pick me, shitty writing, lmk if I missed any

A/N!

I don't really like this chap whoops. So I might edit it later, nothing too drastic but just the way some of it’s worded is kinda cringing me out! It might get a bit confusing but hopefully its easy to follow, and lowkey I made reader a bit pick me but its okay. I support woman's wrong and rights

Riley's fingers flew across her phone screen, her jaw clenched as she typed out her response to Rafe. She'd been watching her best friend struggle with conflicted feelings about the Rafe since highschool, and quite frankly shes was hella pissed. After everything you'd been through– the financial stress, the family drama, the constant pressure of working multiple jobs just to be able to say you have a home the last thing you needed was some rich boy treating you like his personal entertainment.

But your happiness means more. So, before she could second guess herself She hit send

She works 10am to 5pm Monday to Thursday. And Friday to Sunday 6pm to 2am But let me be clear about something Cameron. If you're just looking for some fun, find someone else. She's been through enough without having a snobby trust fund playing with her feelings. She deserves better than whatever game you're playing."

Riley stared at the message for a moment

"Don't make me regret this"

The club was already bustling with activity when you clocked in, The lunch crowd would be arriving soon. You huffed as you observed the tables scattered around the club, you had a full section of tables to prepare, plus your usual bar duties. You tied your apron around your waist and tried to push the memories of last night out of your train of thought. 

At exactly 1:30 PM, Rafe walked through the main entrance with Kelce and Topper trailing behind him. Your heart skipped a bit as your stomach fluttered at the sight of him. It always did when you saw him and you hated it. You quickly busied yourself polishing wine glasses to avoid making eye contact, hoping they wouldn't notice you and just stroll past.

"Well, well," Kelce drawled as they approached the bar area. "It's the world's best bartender" You gave him a grin, feeling Rafe's stare burning through the side of your face.

Topper was already eyeing the top-shelf liquor. "Think we can get the good stuff, or are you gonna give us the watered-down version?"

"Be nice," Rafe warned gruffly, but his eyes were still locked onto you, that familiar electricity crackled in the air between you.

You straightened up, plastering on your professional smile. "Good afternoon, gentlemen. What can I get you?"

"Can we get three beers?," Rafe said, moving closer to the bar. Topper and Kelce wandered off toward a table on the terrace, already distracted by some girls by the pool.

"Coming right up." You reached into the cooler for a cold glass, suddenly hyperaware of Rafe's presence. 

"Busy day?" he asked sheepishly, accepting the beer you slid towards him.

"Always is" You wiped down the bar, trying to look busy "Lunch crowd's just getting started"

Rafe nodded, but he didn't move away. Instead, he leaned against the bar, clearly settling in for a conversation, a boyish grin crept on his face. "You seem tired."

"I'm fine. Just working a lot."

"How many jobs do you have?"

The question was quiet, genuinely curious, and it made something twist in your chest. "Why do you care?"

Rafe was quiet for a moment, turning the glass between his hands. "I don't know," he admitted, eyes not leaving you for a second

You felt heat creep up your neck, pink dusted your cheeks as the corners of your lips twitched into a small smile but before you could figure out how to respond, a familiar voice cut through the moment like a knife.

"There you are!" Sofia appeared at your side, a smile plastered on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I've been looking everywhere for you." her head quickly snapped to the man across the bar and her eyes lit up as if she had just noticed him “oh hi Rafe!”

You watched Rafe's jaw tighten slightly "Hey… S-sofia?"

Sofia nods and her eyes flicked to you briefly, her smile never wavering but becoming sharper. "I hope you aren't bothering the customers, you have a lot of work to do."

"She's not bothering me," Rafe quickly interjected and Sofia turned her attention back to Rafe.

her facade cracked slightly. She looked between you and Rafe, and you could practically see the wheels turning in her head. "Oh, well I guess you wouldn't mind if she helped me with some side work then" She turned to you with that fake bright smile. "Could you be a dear and check on the pool bar? I think they're running low on towels. And the tennis courts need their water stations refilled."

Your stomach turned with agitation. You know what she was doing, she was separating you from Rafe. you tried your best to put on a friendly smile "Of course. But I need to finish my bar work first–."

"Now would be great," Sofia interrupted smoothly. "We can't have our guests waiting."

You glanced at Rafe, who was frowning at Sofia, but you couldn't afford to bite back, You needed this job. "I'll take care of it right away your majesty." you sarcastically snarled before making your way to the store room.

As you gathered towels and supplies, you heard Sofia's laugh behind you, bright and musical as she finally succeeded in pulling Rafe toward the terrace. You tried not to let it piss you off, but the disappointment settled heavy in your chest anyway.

The next hour passed in a blur of pointless tasks. Every time you glanced toward the terrace, you saw Sofia positioned strategically close to Rafe, (obviously not doing her job as you’re doing everything for her) her hand constantly finding reasons to touch his arm, his shoulder, his chest.

When you finally returned to the bar, Rafe was back and alone again. Kelce and Topper had migrated back to the pool, and Sofia was nowhere to be seen.

"Still running around for Sofia?" Rafe asked, almost sounding apologetic.

"Just doing my job." You started restocking glasses, avoiding his gaze.

"About Sofia—"

"You don't have to explain," you cut him off. "You don't owe me anything."

Rafe only nodded quietly before taking a sip of beer that Sofia must have poured for him.

So she does know how to work.

Before you could figure out what to say next, the silence was shattered by the topper's whiny voice from the other end of the bar.

"Helllooo?? Bartender!"

You looked up to see Topper swaying near the bar, He was clearly drunk despite it being only 3pm, and he seemed to be itching for another pint.

"Topper, chillout." Kelce was saying, but there was nervous laughter in his voice.

"Bro, its a bar and there's no bartender” Topper's voice grew louder. "I could be dying of thirst and there's no one to get me a drink!"

Rafe stood up, embarrassment creasing his features. "I should probably—"

"Yeah," you agreed, already moving to grab a cold glass to pour him another beer.

As you got closer to the commotion, Topper's words became clearer, and your blood ran cold when you realized he was talking to you.

"There she is!" Topper turned toward you with a cruel smile, gesturing wildly with his drink. "Come to fill me up?"

"Topper don't say it like that, it's gross." you said quietly, sliding the beer towards him as a makeshift peace offering. "Maybe you should sit down, you're a bit drunk."

"Maybe you should mind your own business," he shot back. "But then again, that's what people like you do, isn't it?"

Other club members were starting to stare and whisper. You could feel the weight of their attention, the way they were watching this play out like it was entertainment.

"People like me?" you raised your eyebrow, your voice dangerously quiet.

"Yeah, people like you." Topper stepped closer, almost on the verge of climbing over the bar. You grimaced as the alcohol on his breath waffed towards your face. "Pogues who think they are so much better than everyone else"

"That's rich" The words came out sharper than you intended.

"You aren't better than me. You’re just trash from the Cut whose daddy ran the moment things went wrong."

The words hit you like a punch. It felt as if the entire club went dead silent, and you felt every eye on you as the blood drained from your face. Topper's cruel smile widened when he saw he'd struck a nerve.

"Yeah, that hurt didn’t it." he continued, emboldened by your reaction. "All that attitude, but deep down you know the truth, don't you? You know why he left."

"Shut up." Your voice came out sharp, like a warning.

"Or what? You can do shit. You know what happens when you mess with us, just ask your dad. Oh wait! You can't!"

You didn't make a conscious decision to move. One second you were frozen in shock, and the next you were round the bar and in Topper's face, your finger jabbing into his chest.

"You don't know anything." you hissed. "You're a pathetic little boy who thinks just because his daddy is a lawyer you can do anything you want. But guess what daddy wont always be there for you when you fuck up thornon."

Topper's eyes flashed dangerously. "At least he's here now."

The words brought out an anger that you hadn't felt in years. The anger that you should have released on him and his friends the moment it all went down years ago. 

"You know what your problem is, Topper?" Your voice was shaking with fury now. "You have everything, all the money and all the privilege you could want. and yet! you're still miserable. You're still just a sad little boy throwing tantrums because no one actually likes you. At least when I go home at night, I can look at myself in the mirror. Can you say the same?"

Topper's face went red, and for a moment you thought he might actually hit you. "You little—"

"That's enough." Rafe's voice cut through the tension like a blade. You had gotten so caught up that you completely forgot about the crowd forming around the bar.

"Stay out of it." Topper sneered, but there was less conviction in his voice now.

"Walk away, Top," Rafe said quietly. "Now."

For a moment, the three of you stood there in a tense triangle. Then Topper laughed, harsh and bitter.

"Rafe Cameron, defender of the working class. Your dad would be so proud."

"I said walk away."

Something in Rafe's tone must have finally snapped Topper out of his drunken state, because he took a step back. But his glare was aimed directly at you.

"He'll get bored of you eventually," he said. "They always do. And when he does, you'll still be exactly what you've always been. nothing."

The words hung in the air and clouded your mind like poison. Your chest felt heavy and the pit in your stomach dipped deeper, but you refused to give Topper the reaction he was hoping for. Instead, you turned on your heel and walked away, pushing through the crowd of gawking club members and heading for the employee entrance.

Rafe quickly snapped into action “wait!” he quickly weaved through the croud

You burst through the back door and into the parking lot, your hands shaking in anger as you fumbled for your keys. The afternoon sun felt too bright, too harsh, and you could hear your pulse pounding in your ears.

Behind you, the door opened again.

"Hey, are you—"

"Don't." You spun around to face Rafe, and the concern in his eyes almost broke you completely. "Just don't. Not now." you turned back around, striding towards your car, hoping rafe would take the hint and leave alone. But Rafe wasn't letting up anytime soon.

"He was drunk. He didn't mean—"

"Yes, he did." Your voice cracked on the words. "He meant every word, and we both know it."

Rafe placed a hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your track. He turned you back around to face him. Your palms reach up to rub your forehead as you avoid eye contact.

He exhaled softly, "That's not true."

"Isn't it?" You laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Come on, Rafe. We both know what this is. You're bored, so you're slumming it with me, and your friends think it's pathetic. Hell, it is pathetic."

"Don't say that. It's not true. You know that"

"Do I? I've known you since I was 5 Rafe. " The tears were coming now, hot and angry down your cheeks. "So why am I suddenly worth having a conversation with now. years of acting like I was nothing, but now I'm worth hanging out with?. 

Rafe's jaw was tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "It’s not like that."

"right." The question came out harsher than you intended. "Then why are you here, Rafe? What do you want from me?"

For a moment, he just stared at you, and you could see him wrestling with something. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet.

"I don't know."

You could only scoff, eyes scanning around the car park. At least he wasn’t feeding you bullshit about how you were different than everyone else or how he suddenly was a changed man.

"Well, when you figure it out, let me know," you said, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "But until then, leave me alone. I might’ve just lost my job because you cant keep your friend on a fucking leash"

You turned away from him again, but his voice stopped you.

"What happened with your dad?"

Your shoulders tensed, but you didn't turn around. "Are you kidding me?"

"I don't need to know the full story, but if I can help I can–"

"I don't." The words came out sharp and bitter. "I really, really don't want your help."

This time when you walked to your car, Rafe didn't follow. But you could feel his eyes on you as you pulled out of the parking lot, and when you glanced in your rearview mirror, he was still standing there watching you go.

You didn't even remember the drive home, you kept replying the sequence of events in your head over and over again. You'd let Topper get under your skin, make quite the scene at the country club. Sofia would definitely use this as an excuse to get you fired, and then where would you be? You couldn't afford to lose this job.

By the time you pulled into the driveway of the small house your tears had dried but your chest was still aching.

The house was quiet when you let yourself in. She was probably still working down at the marina. You were honestly grateful for the solitude as you made your way to your room and collapsed onto your bed.

You must have dozed off, because the next thing you knew, there was knocking at the front door. Persistent, urgent knocking that made your heart jump into your throat. You glanced at your phone , 8:47 PM. You furrowed your brows as you tried to rack your brain of who would be knocking. Riley had a key and you hadn't made any plans with anyone else.

The knocking came again, more insistent this time. With an exhausted sigh, you rolled out of bed and padded barefoot to the front door, checking the peephole before opening it.

Your heart stopped.

Rafe Cameron was standing on your front porch, his hair disheveled like he'd been running his hands through it, his expression a mixture of worry and determination. He looked completely out of place in your neighborhood.

For a moment, you just stared at each other through the glass. Then the knocking resumed, and you realized he'd seen your shadow in the peephole.

"I know you're in there," his voice was muffled but audible through the door. "Please. I just want to make sure you're okay."

You closed your eyes, leaning your forehead against the cool wood of the door. Every instinct screamed at you to ignore him, to wait until he gave up and left. But another part of you, the part that had been drawn to him from the beginning, the same part of you wanted to open the door and let him in.

The knocking stopped, and for a moment you thought he'd given up. Then his voice came again, quieter this time.

"I know you probably don't want to see me right now. I know I screwed up. But I can't stop thinking about what he said to you, and I just- I need to know you're okay."

Your hand hovered over the deadbolt and the handle, wanting to let him in but you knew it would be safer to keep him out. 

"I'm fine," you called through the door. "You can go home now."

There was a long pause. "You don't sound fine."

"Well, I am. So you can leave"

You could feel his presence on the other side, you sigh knowing he wasn't going to leave anytime soon. You opened your mouth to say something but he beast you too it

“Im sorry about what Topper said.”

"It doesn't matter," you said.

"It does matter. What he said to you—"

"It doesn't matter. It was a long time ago.".

There was silence from the other side of the door. Then, quietly: "I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that" You leaned against the door, suddenly exhausted. "Look, Rafe, I appreciate you coming to check on me, but I really just want to be alone right now."

"Okay," he said, but you could hear the reluctance in his voice. "Will you... will you be at work tomorrow?"

The question made you laugh, but there was no humor in it. "Thats if I still have the job. I wouldn't be surprised if Sofia-"

"You'll still have a job. I'll make sure of it."

The certainty in his voice made something twist in your chest. "You can't fix everything, Rafe."

"I can try."

The words hung in the air between you, separated by three inches of wood and a lifetime of different experiences. 

You closed your eyes, fighting the urge to open the door and let him in, to let yourself believe that maybe this time could be different.

But you'd believed that before, and it had only led to heartbreak.

"Goodnight, Rafe," you said finally.

There was a long pause. Then, quietly, almost reluctantly, Rafe whispered back "Goodnight."

You waited until you heard his footsteps retreating down the porch steps, until you heard the sound of a car engine starting up and pulling away. Only then did you move away from the door.

You sat on the sofa, deciding to put on a tv show, hoping it would take your mind off everything that had just happened. But you knew it was useless, because you knew no matter what Rafe always clouded your thoughts. 

It was obvious he had changed. The Rafe Cameron you knew was aggressive, cocky, always wanting to be in control. You hated yourself for being so down bad for him back in highschool, he was everything you hated, the typical self absorbed kook. 

But when you saw him at Riley's party, Something was different. And god, you nearly fell to your knees right then and there.

The sound of the front door creaking open snapped you out of your haze. "Honey, what happened?" She dropped her purse and keys, immediately moving to sit beside you. “Kelce called me. Said there was a fight at the club and you stormed out.”

you told her everything; about Sofia, about Topper's tempter tantrum, about Rafe showing up at your door. Riley listened without interruption, her expression growing darker with each detail.

When you finished, she was quiet for a long moment. “What the actual fuck.”

"I'm sorry," she said. "That's so shit. Rafe doesn't even remember? What a dick."

"It’s not his fault. It was years ago."

"what?" Riley pulled back to look at you. "It doesn't matter if it was years ago. He ruined your-"

Your heart sank. "Riley. I don’t think he had anything to do with it."

"Oh.. But how would–" 

“Riley”

“Ok ok, I'm sorry. I won’t bring it up again.”

You leaned your head against her shoulder, feeling suddenly empty. "Maybe he is different. But different doesn't mean it would work."

"No," Riley agreed quietly. "But maybe it doesn't have to. Doesn't have to ‘not work’ i mean"

You wanted to believe her. Part of you desperately wanted to believe that feelings could overcome circumstances. But you'd seen too much of the world to believe in fairy tales anymore.

"He said he didn't know what he wanted from me," you told Riley. "At least he was honest about that."

Riley was quiet for a moment. "Maybe that's not such a bad thing. Maybe not knowing means he's trying to figure it out."

"Or maybe it means I'm just a distraction until something better comes along."

"Maybe," Riley admitted. "But maybe not. It's just up to you to figure out if you’re willing to take the risk to find out?"

When you didn't respond riley just gave you a small smile and went to the kitchen to make some food, mumbling something about how eating helps you focus.

You knew you should worry about tomorrow, about whether you had a job or not and even if you did, how were you going to face everyone after your little outburst. And Rafe. 

How the hell are you going to face Rafe after he has literally seen you scream at his best friend and cry literal tears out of frustration. 

God that was embarrassing 

But tonight, sitting in your small house on the Cut with your best friend beside you, you allowed yourself to wonder what might happen if you were brave enough to find out what Rafe Cameron really wanted. And whether what he wanted might, against all odds, actually include you.

TAGLIST!

@rafeysangelbaby @suzuki-18 @cokewithcameron @jinxatdawn @lobot0mies4sale @sunsn0w

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PANDORANATIONS MASTERLISTS!

OUTERBANKS

MORE TO COME...

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RAFE CAMERON!

SERIES!

↳ PARTY 4 U

ONESHOTS!

BLURBS!

HEADCANNONS!

MORE TO COME...

[pqndxra]

PARTY 4 U

MASTERLIST!

TAGLIST FORM

SYNOPSIS!

Rafe had charm, wealth and a reputation that would turn heads wherever he went. He had never even heard of the word no - until he met her. The one woman he couldn’t buy, couldn’t charm and couldn’t stop thinking about. Now, he’s willing to risk everything to have the one thing he can’t seem to touch. You.

ONE ! SIX ! ELEVEN ! TWO ! SEVEN ! THREE ! EIGHT ! FOUR ! NINE ! FIVE ! TEN!

more to come...

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PARTY 4 U!

PREV CHAPTER 5 NEXT

w/c: 3.4k

SYNOPSIS

Rafe had charm, wealth and a reputation that would turn heads wherever he went. He had never even heard of the word no - until he met her. The one woman he couldn’t buy, couldn’t charm and couldn’t stop thinking about. Now, he’s willing to risk everything to have the one thing he can’t seem to touch. You.

CONTENT

swearing, Suggestive Content, all characters are over 18 (Reader is 20, Rafe is 21), Rafe being a dork, mentions of ward, making Bella hadids pasta, shitty writing, lmk if I missed any

A/N!

Hey... sorry abt the wait I was lowkey stuck on what to do next. But I watched Bring it on again and I forgot how much I loved that movie lol. I quit my job bc I will not work for the she-devil of a boss so there will be more frequent updates!

The silence soon turned into giggles. The distance between you two slowly collapsed as your head settled into his lap, his head craning to watch you as you spoke.

If Rafe was being completely honest, he wasn't listening to a word you said.

He was completely mesmerized by the way your eyes glistened when you gave random facts about things you were clearly interested in, not to mention the way the corners of your lips curled when you were about to let out a hearty laugh.

You didn't seem to notice—or even care. You just kept rambling on before you suddenly came to a stop, taking in a quick breath. Rafe's brows furrowed. "Keep talking—I like hearing you talk." His fingers played with a strand of your hair.

Your heart stuttered, and you thanked the stars it was dark because you were sure you were as red as a lobster. "I'm hungry," you managed to keep your voice steady.

His eyebrows furrowed and he checked his watch. "It's like 2 AM, everywhere's closed." Were you hinting that you wanted to go?

Disappointment weighed on his shoulders as he watched you get back up, brushing the sand off your thighs. "You leavin'?"

"Yeah, going back to mine." You murmured, shaking the sand out of your hair.

He nodded slowly, his eyes hanging low as he pouted like a child. "Oh... okay, I'll see you around?"

You only laughed and raised a brow at him. "You're not hungry?"

"What?"

You laughed and held your arm out, fingers wiggling. "I promise, I can make a mean bowl of pasta." You gave him a teasing smirk which made Rafe lose all train of thought.

He instantly took your hand, your fingers immediately interlocking with his as you guided him back to the boardwalk.

"You got your own place?" He questioned gruffly, silently praying that you didn't suddenly become aware of how clammy his hands were getting.

You nodded. "Yeah, I share it with Riley. But unfortunately for you, it's in the Cut. But don't worry Cameron, I'll protect you if anyone tries anything." You lifted a fist with a grin.

Rafe dramatically placed a hand to his heart. "Thank you, really." He said with a boyish grin before he realized you both had left your car by the sea wall.

He tugged your hand lightly to make you stop. You spun around to face Rafe, who had his eyebrows furrowed. "What's wrong?"

He glanced back in the direction you came from, pointing a thumb back. "Your car? You're just going to leave it there? What if it gets stolen?" The genuine concern on his face made you giggle.

"I don't drive after smoking." You tugged him closer towards you and continued walking. "Besides, I don't think anyone would even want to steal that piece of shit anyway." You shrugged.

Rafe stayed quiet, before squeezing your hand tighter and nodding.

The two of you carried on the way back to your small house. The front garden was overgrown with weeds, the paint on the walls flaked off, and a rusty bike was parked by the porch.

Your fingers unlaced with his as you patted your pockets to find your key. Rafe's fingers twitched, and he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt as he watched you walk to the front door and push it open.

You stood by the entrance with a smile and your arms held open. "Welcome to my humble abode!" you grinned. He chuckled before moving towards you, his eyes not leaving your frame for a second. "I'm expecting five-star service," he said with a teasing smile.

You rolled your eyes before grabbing his forearm and dragging him inside. "Oh trust me baby, you will be getting ten-star service."

Rafe froze for a second, heat creeping up his neck as his pulse quickened. The nickname hit him like a spark, and he tried to hide the way his fingers twitched. He cleared his throat softly before allowing himself to be manhandled by you.

The interior of your house was cozy in a lived-in way that made Rafe's chest tighten unexpectedly. Mismatched furniture, fairy lights strung along the walls, and the faint scent of vanilla candles mixed with something reminded him of  you. It was nothing like the pristine, cold perfection of Tannyhill, and somehow that made it feel more like home than anywhere he'd ever been.

"Sorry about the mess," you said, kicking off your shoes and tossing your keys onto a cluttered coffee table. "Rileys probably crashed out in her room, she had an early shift today."

Rafe shook his head, still taking everything in. "It's nice," he said, and meant it.

You shot him a look over your shoulder as you headed toward what he assumed was the kitchen. "You sure you're not just saying that because you're starving?" you grin

"Maybe a little," he admitted with a smirk, following behind you like a lost puppy.

The kitchen was small but it was enough. The cabinets were mismatched and there was a window over the sink that led to the small backgarden.. You were already pulling ingredients from various cupboards—pasta, garlic, olive oil, motzarella cheese that looked suspiciously expensive for someone living in the Cut.

"Sit," you commanded, pointing to a battered barstool at the small island. "And tell me about Figure 8. I bet its like desperate housewives."

Rafe perched on the stool sheepishly, watching as you filled a pot with water and set it on the stove. There was something hypnotic about the way you moved around the kitchen, completely natural and in your element. "What kind of gossip?"

"I don't know, what do grossly rich people do? Who's sleeping with who? Whose daddy bought them a new yacht?" You glanced at him with a mischievous smile as you started mincing garlic. "Oh Come on Cameron, I wont tell, im really good at keeping secrets trust me."

He found himself laughing, actually laughing, as he told you about the ridiculous drama that passed for entertainment among the Kooks. Topper's never-ending quest to please Ruthie, the way Mrs. Henderson from three houses down had installed security cameras specifically to spy on her teen neighbors pool parties.

"No fucking way," you gasped, nearly dropping your wooden spoon. "Isnt she like– 40? Thats hella creepy"

"Cross my heart," Rafe said, making the gesture dramatically. "Said it was only for ‘security’ but i dont think burglars are gonna wanna take a dip in the pool"

You were giggling now, the kind of laugh that made your whole body shake, and Rafe felt something warm and unfamiliar settle in his chest. When was the last time someone had laughed at his stories like that? Not the polite chuckles he got from other Kooks, but genuine laughter.

The pasta water was boiling now, and you dumped in the pasta with practiced ease. "Okay, your turn to help. Can you grate this?" You slid the block of mozzarella across the counter along with a small grater.

"I should probably tell you," Rafe said, picking up the grater hesitantly, "I'm not exactly... domestic."

"It's grating cheese, not performing brain surgery," you teased, but your voice was gentle. You turn to watch him awkwardly hold the grater, observing the different ridges on each side “which one do I use?” 

"Oh my god. Here, like this." You moved to stand beside him, your hand covering his to guide the motion.

The contact sent electricity shooting up his arm. You were so close he could smell your shampoo, something fruity that made him want to bury his face in your hair. Your fingers were warm against his, and when you looked up at him to make sure he was getting it, your faces were only inches apart.

"Got it?" you asked softly, and he nodded, not trusting his voice.

You stepped back, but not before he caught the slight flush in your cheeks. Good.

The next few minutes passed in comfortable silence, punctuated by your humming and the sounds of cooking. You drained the pasta and tossed it with olive oil, garlic, and tomato puree, creating something that smelled incredible and looked deceptively simple.

"Voilà," you said, presenting him with a bowl topped with the cheese he'd grated and a generous crack of black pepper. "Bon appetit, courtesy of a very stoned YouTube binge last year."

Rafe took a bite and nearly moaned in pleaure. "Holy shit, this is amazing."

"Language," you scolded playfully, settling beside him with your own bowl. "What would your Rose say?"

The mention of Rose made Rafe's stomach clench in agitation, but he pushed the feeling away. Tonight was about this; you, him, pasta at 2:30 AM in a kitchen.

"She’d  probably ask why I'm not eating it with a proper wine pairing," Rafe said dryly.

"Well, Next time I'll make sure to stock some Dom Pérignon for our next late-night pasta sessions." You bumped his shoulder with yours, and the casual contact made his heart skip.

"There's gonna be a next time?" The question slipped out before he could stop it, vulnerable and hopeful in a way that made him want to take it back immediately.

But your smile was soft, almost shy. "I hope so.I would be offended if you didn't think my cooking wasn't good enough to come back for."

You finished eating while swapping more stories, your knees bumping under the small counter, the space between you gradually diminishing until your thighs were pressed together. When you got up to rinse the bowls, Rafe found himself missing the warmth immediately.

"Movie?" you asked, already heading toward the living room. "I've only got Netflix and an embarrassing collection of rom-coms on DVD."

"Dealer's choice," Rafe said, settling onto your couch—a well-loved sectional that was probably older than both of you but somehow the most comfortable thing he'd ever sat on.

You disappeared down a hallway for a moment, returning with a throw blanket and wearing an oversized t-shirt that fell to your mid-thighs. Rafe tried not to stare at your legs, failed spectacularly, and hoped you didn't notice.

"Hope you're ready for some quality cinema," you said, settling beside him and pulling up Netflix. "I'm talking foreign films, thought-provoking documentaries, maybe some– oh, or we could watch this."

The screen showed the thumbnail for some ridiculous-looking comedy ‘Bring it on; All or nothing!’ a 2000s movie about cheerleading. Rafe raised an eyebrow.

"What happened to foreign films?"

"I lied. I want to watch something stupid and funny." You looked at him hopefully. "Is that okay?"

The fact that you were asking, like his opinion mattered, like you cared if he was comfortable, made his chest tight. "Yeah, just dont blame me if i suddenly need to throw up"

You pressed play and settled back against the couch, pulling the blanket over both of you. The movie was exactly as it looked. But it was funny, and more importantly, it made you laugh.

Rafe found himself watching you more than the screen. The way you threw your head back when the Blonde cheerleader complained about her new school, how you'd grab his arm during particularly cringy scenes, the running commentary you provided in whispered that were often funnier than the actual movie.

"Oh my god,i cant watch this scene" you cringed during a scene where the boys were teaching the blonde cheerleader how to krump.

"What the hell?" Rafe held a hand over his mouth to contain his laughter, and you dissolved into giggles that you tried to muffle against his shoulder.

The contact sent heat racing through his veins. You stayed there, your head resting against him, and Rafe held perfectly still, afraid that moving might break whatever trance was keeping you close.

As the movie played, you shifted closer, your legs tucking up under you, your body gradually melting against his side. Rafe's arm came up almost involuntarily, wrapping around your shoulders, and when you didn't pull away, when you actually snuggled closer– he thought his heart might actually stop.

This was dangerous territory. He'd been attracted to plenty of girls before, had hooked up with his fair share, but this felt different. This felt like something that could be more, something that would hurt like a bitch if it went wrong. But with your warmth pressed against him and your quiet laughter vibrating through his chest, he couldn't bring himself to care about the risks.

The movie was winding down, the credits starting to roll, when you shifted to look up at him. Your faces were close again, closer than they'd been in the kitchen, and neither of you moved away.

"Rafe," you said softly, and the way you said his name, airy, like a melody. It made his breath catch.

"Yeah?"

Instead of answering, you leaned up and kissed him.

It was soft at first, hesitant, like you were giving him a chance to pull away. But there was no way in hell Rafe was going to pull back. 

His hand came up to cup your face, and he kissed you back with all the want that had been building up.

You made a small sound against his lips, like a hum of content and something inside him snapped. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you responded by shifting in his lap, your legs straddling his thighs. The new position made him groan, his hands sliding down to grip your hips.

"Is this okay?" you whispered against his mouth, and he nodded frantically.

"More than okay," he managed gruffly, before capturing your lips again.

The kiss deepened, became hungrier, more desperate. Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging slightly, and the sensation sent sparks straight down his spine. He could taste mint and something sweet on your tongue, could feel the way you were breathing hard against him, and it was intoxicating.

His hands explored the curve of your waist, the soft skin of your thighs, the place where your shirt had ridden up to reveal a strip of your lower back.

 Every touch made you shiver, made small sounds escape your throat that were driving him absolutely crazy.

"God, you're incredible," he murmured against your neck, pressing kisses along the column of your throat that made you arch against him.

"Rafe," you breathed, and the want in your voice nearly undid him completely.

He was just about to suggest maybe moving somewhere more comfortable when a door slammed somewhere in the house, followed by the sound of footsteps and someone fumbling around in what sounded like the kitchen.

You both froze, your eyes wide as you stared at each other.

"Shit," you whispered. “Shes got great timing” yo dropped your head onto his shoulder in defeat

The footsteps were getting closer to the living room causing  you to scramble off Rafe's lap, both of you trying to look casual as a girl with messy blonde hair and wearing an oversized sleep shirt padded into the living room.

"Oh," she said, stopping short when she saw you both on the couch. Her eyes were bleary with sleep, but she was clearly taking in the scene; your mussed hair, Rafe's swollen lips, the general air of two people who had definitely been damn near dry humping 30 seconds ago. "Hi."

"Hey" you said, your voice slightly strangled. "This is Rafe. Rafe, Riley."

"Hi," Rafe cleared his throat, his voice coming out rougher than intended.

Riley looked between you two for a moment, a slow grin spreading across her face. "Well, this is awkward. I was just getting some water, but I can... go back to bed. While you guys carry on with… whatever you were doing."

"You don't have to– " you started, but Riley was already backing toward the hallway, giggles following her.

"Use protection!" she called over her shoulder before disappearing back down the hall. A moment later, her bedroom door clicked shut.

The silence that followed was deafening. You and Rafe stared at each other, the moment thoroughly broken, the heat that had been building between you now replaced by awkward tension.

"I should probably..." Rafe started, running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah," you said quietly, looking anywhere but at him.

He stood up, immediately missing your warmth, and looked around for his shoes. The magic of the evening was fading, reality creeping in around the edges. What was he doing?.

"Thanks" he said when he found his shoes by the door. "For food, and the movie, and uh… yeah"

You walked him to the door, wrapping your arms around yourself. "Yeah, of course."

He wanted to kiss you again, wanted to ask when he could see you again, he wanted to do a lot of things but unfortunatley Rileys interruption had been like a bucket of cold water, and now he had no idea what to do

"I'll... see you around?" he said unsurely, scratching the back of his neck

You nodded, giving him a small smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. "Yeah. See you around, Cameron."

He stepped outside, the night air cool against his flushed skin, and heard the door close softly behind him. It wasn't until he was halfway down your street that he realized what he'd forgotten to do.

"Fuck," he said aloud, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

He'd been so thrown off by the interruption that he'd walked out without getting your number. He didn't even know your last name. How the fuck was he supposed to find you again?

Rafe turned around, looking back at your house, but the lights were already off. Going back now would make him look weird and desperate.

The walk back to Figure 8 was long, giving him plenty of time to replay every moment of the evening. Your laugh, how natural it had felt to be in your safe space, the spark between you the moment your lips met his. And then the way it had all fallen apart in the span of thirty seconds.

By the time he reached the familiar streets of the figure eight, Rafe's mind was still spinning. He couldn't remember the last time he'd met someone who made him feel so normal. 

Not like Rafe Cameron, son of Ward Cameron, the expectations and baggage that came with that name. 

He felt like Rafe, a guy who could make you laugh and who felt like the luckiest person alive when you looked at him like he was worth something.

You were smart, funny, genuine in a way that was rare among the people he usually spent time with. You made amazing pasta at 2 AM and laughed at stupid movies and looked at him like he was interesting rather than just another rich kid with daddy issues.

And you were hot. God, you were hot. The way you'd felt in his lap, the little sounds you'd made when he kissed your neck, the way your shirt had ridden up when you'd stretched to reach something in the kitchen.

Rafe groaned, running both hands through his hair. He was completely fucked, and he didn't even have your number.

As he finally reached his house. The massive, pristine Tannyhill. The large space that was overtaken with loneliness.

 It was then and there Rafe made himself a promise. He was going to find you again. However long it took, whatever he had to do, he was going to see you again.

Because tonight had been the first time in a long time that he'd felt like himself. And he wasn't ready to give that up.

The moment he was inside, Rafe pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found Kelce's name. 

His fingers hovered over the screen for a moment. It was nearly 4 AM, but this couldn't wait until morning. He typed out a quick message

yo i need rileys number. need to ask her something about work schedules at the club. 

He hit send before he could overthink it, then stared at his phone, praying to every god he could think of that  Kelce would be awake. 

The phone buzzed in his hand and he scrambled to open it. Kelces sent Rileys number and a string of question marks. 

Rafe ignored the questions and immediately started typing 

hey its rafe. Could you tell me when Y/N works at the club? 

His thumb hovered over the send button as his heart hammered in his chest.

TAGLIST!

@rafeysangelbaby @suzuki-18 @cokewithcameron @jinxatdawn @lobot0mies4sale @sunsn0w

[pqndxra]

Ok guys would u rather have a long (like 5k wc) and edited P4U chapter but have to wait a few more days or have a shorter filler chapter tmrw? Lmk!!