Rafe's eyes open, finding mine. The teasing glint fades, replaced by something steadier, more focused. “How’s my brother’s bed?”
I hold his gaze, feeling my pulse thump. “Comfortable.”
His brows rise as he drags his tongue along the bottom of his teeth. “Then why are you out here? With me?”
“Your brother’s a furnace.”
“Did you enjoy the party tonight?” he murmurs, ignoring my comment completely.
My eyes drop to the concrete, heat climbing up my neck as I remember the dining room table beneath my back, the weight of him pressing me down. My teeth catch my bottom lip, and when I glance up, his gaze is fixed on my mouth, pupils blown wide in the darkness.
The truth slips from my tongue too easily. “I enjoyed the dining room.“
“I can still feel your fingerprints,” he murmurs, voice like gravel, “right here.” His fingertips ghost along his collarbone, tracing the path mine had taken hours earlier.
The admission lands between us, soft as a bruise, and for a moment neither of us moves.
He tips his head back, eyes sliding closed for a heartbeat. “Have you ever wanted something so bad it keeps you awake?”
My lungs forget how to work. The pool water laps against the concrete, suddenly too loud in my ears. My fingers curl against my thighs, nails digging half-moons into my skin as heat spreads from my stomach outward, like whiskey hitting an empty belly.
“What are you saying?” I whisper, each word scraping my throat. “That you're out here in the middle of the night because you want to kiss me? Again.”
He angles toward me, the line of his shoulders tense, everything about him tuned tight enough to hum. “It’s all I’ve thought about for hours really.”
The words drop between us, heavy as a stone in my gut. My mouth goes dry. I search his face for a joke, but his eyes are flat and unblinking. The scar by his lip catches the moonlight, making him look feral and beautiful all at once.
I should say something. A joke. Deflect. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out except a trembling exhale.
Rafe watches that, the way my chest expands with a deep inhale.
“I don’t know what to do with that.”
He quirks a brow. “I’ve got an idea.”
I hesitate, my fingers twisting in my lap. The word “no” forms in my throat, dissolves on my tongue. His brother's face flashes behind my eyes, then vanishes. My teeth find my bottom lip, scraping across.
“Then come here,” I finally say, voice barely above a whisper, already half-regretting the invitation even as excitement and desire intertwine inside of me.
His mouth quirks. “Nah. You come to me.”
A wave of foolishness washes over me, followed immediately by a flush of heat that has nothing to do with desire. I stand up, my legs unsteady beneath me, torn between storming off and staying right where I am.
“Goodnight, Rafe,” I say, the words catching in my throat as I stroll toward the patio door.
His voice catches me three steps from the door. “I don't sleep.”
My feet stop. I turn my head just enough to see his profile in the moonlight, the sharp line of his jaw, the hollow beneath his cheekbone.
“Instead, I sit under the stars.” His fingers trace the rim of his glass, round and round. “Count the seconds between heartbeats.”
The night air shivers against my skin. My pulse skips, then steadies. My bare feet pivot on the concrete, carrying me back to where his body stretches across the lounger, back to the space he's left beside him.
I swing one leg over the lounger, then the other. The cushion gives beneath my knees as I straddle him without lowering my weight. My fingers curl around the metal frame, knuckles whitening. Three nights this week, I've watched the digital clock flip from 3:59 to 4:00, then 4:01, counting each minute until dawn. My voice emerges barely audible. “The shadows on my ceiling have names by now. Sometimes it feels like I’m losing my mind.”
His fingertips trace a path up my arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The darkness presses in around us, broken only by moonlight catching on the pool's surface. “Being awake atthree AM can feel suffocating,” he whispers, his breath warm against my skin. “But it can also feel liberating. The world stops watching. No one exists but us.”
I glance down at him. His eyes have lost their usual sharp edges, the mockery replaced by something raw and unguarded. The moonlight catches on his face, softening the angles of his cheekbones, the harsh line of his jaw. For once, his mouth isn't twisted into that knowing smirk.
