「 ✦HOUSE WARMING ✦ 」

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RAFE PULLED THE CAR INTO THE driveway and slowed to a stop. They both sat silently for a moment, taking in the house before them. It wasn't massive, but it was perfect for them—clean lines, large windows, and a contemporary look that still felt warm. A light grey exterior with some darker stone accents gave it a modern edge, and the lawn was freshly mowed, leading up to the porch where a few chairs sat waiting for lazy afternoons. It had the kind of understated charm that didn't need to scream for attention but rather invited you to walk up and see what was inside.

He cut the engine, and the sudden quiet felt strange after the long drive. He turned to MJ, a satisfied smile creeping onto his face. "My dad would be proud," he said, his voice almost reverent as he surveyed the house. "It's got potential."

MJ raised an eyebrow, not really feeling the same sense of awe. "Your dad would probably say it's too small and tear it down to build something that looks like it belongs in a magazine," she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Rafe chuckled, unbothered by her jibe. "Well, this is better. This is ours." He turned to her, giving her a small, reassuring smile.

MJ leaned back in her seat, still looking at the house. "My dad would trash it," she said, her voice quieter now, tinged with bitterness and resignation. She shrugged, shaking off the thought. "But for us? It's perfect."

Rafe's expression softened as he looked over at her, understanding in his eyes. "It's real. No pretenses here. Just us."

She nodded, a little more sure of herself now. "Yeah, exactly. This is ours, and no one can take that away."

Rafe reached over and gave her a playful nudge. "We're making our own mark now."

MJ smiled faintly, her mind still whirring with thoughts of her father and everything she'd left behind. But she pushed it down, focused on the here and now, on this moment with Rafe. "Let's make it ours then," she said, her voice firm with the resolve she needed to make this work and feel like home.

Rafe grinned, ready to take on whatever came next. "Hell yeah. Let's go inside and make it our own."

As they both got out of the car, standing in the driveway, the golden light of the setting sun cast long shadows over the house.

They walked up the front steps and into the house, the door creaking slightly as they pushed it open. The interior was bright and airy, with high ceilings and wide windows that let in plenty of natural light. The walls were a neutral shade of off-white, giving the space a clean, modern feel. The floor beneath their feet was a smooth, polished hardwood, the kind that had just enough warmth to make the house feel inviting without losing its sleek edge.

Rafe led the way through the rooms, his hand casually resting on the small of MJ's back as they explored each space. The living room was spacious with a large sectional couch that looked just right for a night of binge-watching or lazy afternoons with friends. The fireplace stood like a centrepiece against one wall, its modern stone facade adding a touch of sophistication to the room. "Perfect for winter nights," Rafe remarked, running his fingers along the mantel.

MJ nodded, her eyes flicking to the large windows that framed the view of the yard. "Definitely. We'll need a big TV though," she teased, her voice light despite the weight of everything swirling inside her.

They moved on, passing the kitchen. It had stainless steel appliances, and a large island in the center with plenty of space for meal prep and casual eating. White cabinets and countertops gave it a clean look, while the dark wood accents added a touch of contrast that grounded the modern feel. "We could throw some epic dinners here," Rafe said, opening a drawer and pulling out a set of spoons, testing their feel.

MJ shot him a sidelong glance. "I think you're getting a little too excited about cooking for someone who burns toast."

Rafe laughed, brushing off the jab. "I'll learn. It'll be fun." He glanced at her, his smile softening. "We're starting fresh, Rosemary. It's gonna be good."

Next, they moved down the hallway into the bedrooms. The master bedroom was spacious, with a king-sized bed at the center, flanked by large windows offering a view of the front yard. The walls were a pale blue, creating a calm, serene atmosphere. A sliding door led out to a small private balcony, the perfect spot to sit with a drink in hand and unwind. Rafe flopped down on the bed, arms behind his head. "Not bad," he murmured, grinning up at the ceiling. "I could get used to this."

MJ walked around the room, her fingers tracing the edge of a nearby shelf. "It's nice. Not too fancy, but definitely better than anything I've had before."

She moved on, exploring the other rooms—two smaller bedrooms and a home office, each one functional and simple. There was nothing extravagant, but everything felt new, clean, and ready to be shaped into something personal.

Once they had seen enough of the inside, they stepped out the back door into the backyard. The sun was just beginning to dip behind the horizon, casting a golden hue over everything. The backyard was sprawling, bordered by a low stone wall, with a few large trees scattered around the perimeter offering shade. And then, the pool—an inviting turquoise oasis with a sleek, modern design that shimmered in the fading sunlight.

But the real surprise was the view beyond the pool. The backyard sloped down gently, offering a breathtaking panoramic view of the cliffside and the vast expanse of the ocean below. The deep blue of the water met the sky in the distance, where the sun was slowly sinking, turning the sky into shades of orange and pink. It was the kind of view that made everything else fade into the background.

"Now, this is something," Rafe said, walking to the edge of the pool and leaning against the stone wall that framed it. He looked out at the ocean, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "This is what I've been working for. This is what we deserve."

MJ stood beside him, looking out at the view. The air smelled of salt and seaweed, and the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks below was calming. She could feel the tension from the past few days—maybe even the past few months—beginning to ease. "It's beautiful," she said softly, her voice almost lost in the sounds of the evening.

"It's ours," Rafe said with quiet confidence, his eyes never leaving the horizon. "And we're going to make it everything we want it to be."

MJ wasn't sure what the future held, but standing there with him, in this house, they had just made their own, she felt like maybe—just maybe—this could be the fresh start they needed.

Rafe turned to face her, his eyes softening as he gently cupped her face in his hands, a tender smile tugging at his lips. The fading light of the day wrapped around them like a blanket, making the moment feel intimate and rare.

"I'm gonna swing by Topper's, grab our stuff, and pick up some beer for the party," he said, his voice low and calm like he was savouring the quiet of the evening. His thumb brushed lightly over her cheek, his gaze lingering on her with a warmth that made her heart skip. "But before I go..."

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, his lips lingering there for a moment as if he wanted to imprint the moment into her memory. The kiss was gentle but full of meaning, a simple, yet powerful gesture that reminded her they were in this together.

"Enjoy our home, baby," Rafe whispered, his lips brushing her ear as he pulled back just enough to look at her again. "It's just the beginning. We'll make it everything we want it to be."

MJ's breath caught in her throat, and for a brief moment, the world outside seemed to disappear. All that mattered was the warmth of his touch and the promise in his voice. She met his gaze, giving him a small, sincere smile. "I'll be here waiting for you," she replied, her voice soft, but there was something unwavering in it, something that said she was finally ready to build this life with him, even if she hadn't been so sure just days ago.

Rafe hesitated, his hand lingering on her waist, before he stepped back slowly, taking one last look at her as if imprinting the image of her standing in their new home into his memory.

"I'll be back soon. First thing tomorrow, we're getting a security system," he added, the protective edge to his tone making her smile.

"Yeah, wouldn't want anyone sneaking up on us now," she teased lightly, trying to make light of the serious edge in his voice. But she knew he meant it, and something about the way he cared so much made her feel safe, and secure in a way she hadn't felt in a long time.

Rafe nodded, a smile tugging at his lips as he gave her one last glance, his eyes full of affection. "I'll be quick. Stay here and enjoy our space."

MJ watched as he turned to leave, his silhouette framed by the golden light of the setting sun before he disappeared down the driveway. She let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of everything lift off her shoulders as she stood in their new home.

It was their home now. And despite the tension, despite the chaos of the past weeks, it felt like a fresh start—like the beginning of something better.

She walked through the rooms again, this time taking the time to see them, to imagine what they could become. The emptiness of the walls didn't feel so cold now; instead, it felt like a blank canvas—one she could fill with all the things that mattered.

MJ wandered through the house, her footsteps soft on the hardwood floors as she explored the rooms once more. The house was quiet now, just the faint hum of the air conditioning filling the space. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a soft amber glow through the large windows, and the backyard view was beginning to fade into the shadows.

She paused by the kitchen island, fingers lightly tracing the smooth granite surface as she took it all in—the brand-new appliances, the sleek countertops, the open space that begged to be filled with laughter and chaos. This was their life now.

For a moment, she let herself picture the future. Dinner parties in the dining room, long lazy mornings with coffee in hand, nights curled up on the couch, surrounded by the noise of their friends, the smell of Rafe's cologne filling the air. It was the kind of life she'd always imagined, but never thought she'd actually get to live.

She felt her phone buzz in her pocket and pulled it out to check the message. It was a quick text from Rafe, telling her he was on his way to Topper's and would be back soon. She smiled softly, her fingers lingering on the screen as she typed a response.

Rafe:

Coming back soon, sorry baby, Top's talking.

Rosemary:

Take your time. I'll be here.

MJ put the phone back in her pocket and stepped toward the back door, leading out into the backyard. The cool night air greeted her as she pushed it open, stepping outside. She stood at the edge of the patio, looking out over the backyard. The pool glimmered softly under the moonlight, its surface still and inviting. Beyond it, the cliffs rose up, their jagged edges cutting into the night sky and the sound of the ocean waves crashing below filled the air with a soothing rhythm.

The view was breathtaking, and for the first time in ages, MJ felt a sense of peace. The chaos of the last few months, the anger, the betrayal—it all seemed so distant here. This was her place now.

She leaned against the railing, staring out at the endless horizon, her thoughts wandering. What if they really could make this work? What if this was the fresh start they needed, a chance to leave behind the people they used to be and become something else? Something better.

A noise behind her broke her from her thoughts, and she turned to see Rafe coming down the path, carrying a couple of bags. His eyes immediately found hers, and he smiled, his face lighting up as he closed the distance between them.

"Got everything we need," he said, his voice low and steady as he handed her one of the bags. "Beer, snacks... and I grabbed a few extra things. Thought you might want to settle in a little more before the party."

MJ took the bag from him, her heart skipping a beat at the thought of him thinking ahead like that. The way he cared, the way he always seemed to have her back—it was more than she had ever expected from anyone.

"Thanks," she said, offering a smile as she stood up from the railing.

Rafe's gaze softened as he stepped closer to her, his hand reaching out to touch her arm, pulling her in slightly. His lips brushed her forehead in another tender kiss, his voice a low whisper as he spoke.

"I'm glad we're doing this, Rosemary. I'm glad we're starting over."

She leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body against hers. "Me too," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "But we're gonna need a hell of a lot more beer for this fresh start."

Rafe chuckled, his chest vibrating against her. "Don't worry, I got us covered."

He stepped back, giving her one last lingering look before he gestured toward the house. "C'mon, let's get this place ready for our housewarming. Got a lot to celebrate."

MJ smiled, feeling the weight of the world lift off her shoulders as she followed him inside. They had their new life ahead of them—together.

────

The house was filled with laughter, music, and the clinking of bottles as the Kooks filtered into the living room, making themselves at home in the luxurious space that was now Rafe and Rosemary's. A few of them had already started milling around the pool area, drinks in hand, chatting loudly and acting like they owned the place. The atmosphere was carefree, but there was an undeniable tension hanging in the air, a subtle undercurrent of discontent from the Pogues who had shown up despite their clear disdain for Rosemary's transformation.

Rafe stood near the bar, his arm wrapped around Rosemary's waist as she busied herself with adjusting the playlist. He looked around the room, clearly enjoying the fact that he was finally able to host something on his turf. This was their space now—his and hers.

The Kooks were scattered in groups, laughing and talking like they had no care in the world. Topper was leaning against the wall, sipping his beer, occasionally throwing a glance toward the pool where Kelc and some of the others were tossing around a football. Savannah, always looking pristine, sat on the couch with her legs crossed, chatting animatedly with a few of the guys. She shot a pointed look at Rosemary as she took a sip of her drink, her smile sharp, though her words didn't match her true feelings.

"So, Rafe," Topper called from the other side of the room, his tone teasing but with an edge of sincerity. "You really went all in on this place, huh? It's... not bad."

Rafe's lips curled into a smirk as he glanced around, his eyes briefly locking with Rosemary's. "Yeah, I figured we deserved a nice place to call home," he said, his voice dripping with that signature confidence. "Plus, it's not bad for a starter house."

The Kooks laughed, and some of them raised their glasses to toast to that. The atmosphere lightened a bit, but Rosemary could feel the eyes on her. She was hyper-aware of every word spoken, every glance thrown her way, but she kept her chin up, refusing to let anyone see how much it all affected her.

"You guys want to take a look around?" Rosemary asked, forcing a smile as she motioned toward the house. "Rafe and I are thinking of adding a few touches, but we're still figuring it out."

"Oh, we'll be fine right here," Savannah replied, barely looking up from her phone as she swirled her drink. "This place's fine as it is."

Rosemary's jaw tightened. Savannah always knew how to throw in the barbs when no one was looking. And just like that, she felt herself slipping into that familiar defensive mode, the old reflexes kicking in. She swallowed her irritation and looked at Rafe for support, but he was too distracted, caught up in conversation with Kelc and Topper.

That was when she spotted JJ, standing by the sliding glass door that led to the backyard. His arms were crossed, eyes narrowed, but there was an obvious tension between him and Rafe, something not quite settled in the air between them.

"Hey, Rosemary," he called out, his voice more neutral than before but still with that underlying edge. "I guess we're really doing this, huh?"

Rosemary felt a spike of emotion at hearing his voice. She hadn't spoken to him properly since that night, and even though she had pushed him away, seeing her twin, her partner in crime, standing there felt like a punch to the gut.

"Yeah," she replied, her tone cold but still tinged with a hint of something softer. "Looks like it."

JJ stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he watched her with a mixture of disbelief and hurt. "You know, I didn't think you'd ever fully go over to the Kook side. But this? This is something else, Rosemary."

Her chest tightened at his words. The judgment was clear in his tone, and it stung more than she cared to admit.

"Get over it, JJ," she snapped, her voice cutting through the noise of the party. "I've made my choice."

He shook his head, clearly disappointed, but his words were quieter this time. "Just remember who you were before all this. You're still that person underneath."

Before she could respond, Rafe appeared at her side, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back. "Don't let him get under your skin, babe," he murmured, his voice soft but commanding. "This is our night."

Rosemary's gaze flicked over to JJ one last time before she nodded, grateful for Rafe's support, though she still couldn't shake the weight of the hurt that lingered between her and her brother.

The night stretched on, with the Kooks continuing to revel in their new home, Rafe and Rosemary leading the charge in every conversation, every toast. But every now and then, her eyes would flicker to her twin—her family—who remained in the shadows of the party, a silent reminder of everything she had left behind.

The party at Rafe and Rosemary's new house quickly escalated into a full-blown rager. Music blasted from the speakers, the bass shaking the walls as the house filled with laughter, shouting, and the heady scent of alcohol. It felt like a different world—one that Rosemary wasn't sure she recognized anymore but was still sinking into, one drink and one flirtatious glance at a time.

Rafe was in his element, moving from group to group, making sure everyone had what they needed and keeping the energy high. His usual self-confidence had shifted into something darker tonight, fueled by the thrill of their success and the euphoria from a few lines of coke in the bathroom. He'd slipped away for a quick hit earlier, and now, the controlled calm in his eyes had given way to a jittery, possessive energy.

Rosemary didn't even care anymore. She was already well into her third drink, the alcohol swirling inside her, making her feel loose, careless, and somehow untouchable. It was a reckless abandon, the type of night where anything could happen, and that's exactly what she wanted. She needed it.

"Another one?" Kelc called from across the kitchen, holding up a bottle of tequila and a shot glass. She grinned at Rosemary, her eyes gleaming in the light. "You're keeping up, I gotta say."

Rosemary's head spun a little, but she didn't care. She laughed, grabbing the glass. "Hell, why not?"

She threw the shot back, feeling the heat spread down her throat and into her chest. She could already feel the buzz take over, the world shifting just a little as her limbs grew heavy. She leaned against the counter, her breath quick, when she noticed Rafe coming toward her, a grin on his face.

"You good?" he asked, his voice low and slinky, his pupils dilated. There was a dangerous edge to him, something almost feral, and Rosemary couldn't look away.

"I'm perfect," she said, her voice thick with alcohol, but she flashed him a smirk. She took a step closer to him, feeling the heat from his body.

"Good," Rafe said, then kissed her quickly, his lips hot and hungry, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he pulled her closer.

Before they could continue, the doorbell rang, cutting through the noise of the party. Rafe pulled away, a flicker of annoyance passing over his features as he let go of her. The door was flung open, and in walked Kiara, John B, and Pope, their presence immediately causing the vibe in the room to shift.

John B's eyes locked with Rosemary's, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down. The tension was palpable. He didn't even bother with a greeting—his focus was on her, and the disappointment was clear in his eyes.

"Seriously?" he asked, his voice laced with disbelief. "This is what you're doing now?"

Rosemary felt a knot in her stomach, but she didn't break eye contact. She was used to this—used to them seeing her as a traitor, a sellout. She could feel the weight of their judgment, but she stood tall, the alcohol blurring the edges of her discomfort.

"Yeah, John B," she snapped, her words slurred but defiant. "This is my life now. Deal with it."

Kiara crossed her arms, her face twisted in anger. "You used to be one of us, Rosemary. What happened?" Her voice was sharp, cutting through the thick air like a knife.

"You wouldn't understand," Rosemary shot back, her tone cold. "You're still stuck in that little Pogue bubble. Some of us know how to move up in the world."

"Really?" Kiara barked a laugh. "By betraying everyone who's ever been there for you?"

John B stepped forward, his voice firm now, but tinged with frustration. "You've changed, Rosemary. And it's not for the better."

Rafe, who had been watching the scene unfold from the corner of the room, suddenly stepped between them. His presence was commanding, his hand resting protectively on Rosemary's shoulder. His eyes flicked from John B to Kiara, his expression hardening.

"That's enough," Rafe said, his voice low but filled with menace. "She doesn't owe you anything."

John B took a step toward Rafe, his posture tense, fists clenched at his sides. "Stay out of this, Rafe," he warned, his voice threatening. "This is between me and Rosemary."

The room seemed to hold its breath as Rafe stared him down. "You're the one who needs to stay out of it, John B," he spat. "She made her choice. Deal with it."

The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Rosemary could feel the anger radiating off of both Rafe and John B. She wanted to say something, to stop the fight before it escalated, but her mind was too clouded by alcohol and frustration. Her twin had already distanced himself from her, and now John B—someone she thought would always have her back—was angry at her, too.

She could barely even recognize herself anymore.

Kiara crossed her arms, her face twisted with disbelief and anger. "You've changed, Rosemary. You used to be one of us."

"I'm still me," Rosemary snapped, though she could feel the cracks in her armour. "But unlike you, I know how to move forward. Some of us don't want to stay stuck in the Cut forever."

"Is that what this is about?" Kiara's voice was seething with disdain. "You're just gonna sell out for money?"

"Don't talk to her like that," Rafe interjected, his voice low, almost threatening as he stepped closer to Rosemary, his hand instinctively landing on her shoulder.

John B glared at Rafe, his eyes burning with frustration. "This isn't your business, Cameron," he shot back, his voice tense with anger. "Step back."

But Rafe wasn't backing down. His jaw tightened, and his hand on Rosemary's shoulder tightened with it. "This is very much my business," he said through gritted teeth. "She's with me now."

Rosemary glanced at Rafe, sensing the possessive edge in his voice, and for a moment, she felt a twisted thrill, like a sharp edge to the situation. But the alcohol had clouded her judgment, and the confrontation wasn't over.

John B took a step toward Rafe, his fists clenched. "You don't get to dictate who's with who. You've got no right."

"Neither do you," Rafe snapped, his voice rising. "She's not your fucking responsibility anymore, John B." He shoved John B back, just a little, but it was enough to ignite the anger that had been brewing under the surface for too long.

"Stay the hell away from her!" John B roared, pushing Rafe in retaliation, hard enough to knock him back a step.

That was all it took. The moment the shove landed, everything snapped. Rafe lunged at John B, the two of them colliding in a blur of fists, elbows, and anger. The partygoers around them stepped back, yelling for them to stop, but it only seemed to fuel the fire.

Rafe was fast, his movements fueled by rage and adrenaline, and he got the first punch in, sending John B stumbling back. The impact echoed through the room, and Rosemary watched in stunned silence as Rafe kept pushing, relentlessly throwing blows.

John B managed to get a hit in of his own, landing a punch to Rafe's jaw. But Rafe's anger had no end. He grabbed John B by the collar, slamming him into the nearest wall, and the force of it rattled the entire house. Rafe's face was a mask of fury as he landed another punch, this one harder, faster, and with a sickening snap.

"Rafe!" Rosemary shouted, but her voice barely broke through the chaos. She could feel the heat of the fight, the rage that seemed to consume both of them.

John B staggered, barely able to catch his breath, but he wasn't backing down. He swung again, but this time Rafe dodged it, slamming his fist into John B's stomach, sending him crumpling to the ground. The fight was brutal, and raw, and Rafe was in a frenzy, no longer in control.

"Rafe, stop!" Rosemary's voice cracked, and she rushed forward, trying to get in between them. But Rafe shoved her away with one hand, not out of malice, but because he was so consumed by the anger inside him.

Kiara screamed at them to stop, but it didn't matter. Rafe was too far gone, and John B was just as determined, refusing to stay down. Rafe's breathing was ragged, his chest heaving with each breath, his eyes wild.

"Rafe, stop!" Rosemary yelled again, louder this time, her heart pounding in her chest as she saw the blood dripping from John B's lip.

Rafe finally hesitated. He stood over John B, panting, his eyes locked on the other boy's bruised face. But the look in Rafe's eyes wasn't regretful—it was possessive, protective, and fierce. His eyes flicked to Rosemary, and for a split second, his expression softened, realizing just how far he'd gone.

John B, though gasping for air, pushed himself up slowly, his face twisted in pain but filled with rage. "You're fucking insane," he spat at Rafe, his voice hoarse.

Rosemary stood there, frozen, her head spinning, both from the alcohol and the shock of what had just happened. She turned to Rafe, her hands shaking as she tried to process it.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she whispered, but it was more to herself than to him.

Rafe didn't say anything. Instead, he took a step back, his eyes hardening again, and he grabbed Rosemary's arm, pulling her away from the scene. "Let's go," he said, his voice cool now, but still tinged with the remnants of his rage.

Rosemary didn't resist. She followed him out of the living room, her mind racing as she tried to reconcile the man she thought she knew with the one standing in front of her now.

In the distance, John B, Kiara, and Pope stood, watching, anger and confusion still hanging in the air, but Rafe had already turned his back on them, leading Rosemary toward the door.

She couldn't bring herself to look at the mess they'd just left behind. All she could do was follow Rafe as he pulled her into the night, the weight of the situation settling in, heavy and suffocating.

────

Rafe's alarm blares through the quiet of the room, dragging MJ out of her deep sleep like a harsh jolt. The sound feels like a physical push, and for a moment, she considers throwing a pillow at him for not waking up to shut it off. But Rafe's still fast asleep beside her, his steady snores vibrating through his bare chest.

She blinks her eyes open, squinting at the early light creeping through the crack in the curtains. The room's dark, but not dark enough to block out the sunlight that's slowly seeping in. Rolling closer to him, MJ presses her face into the warmth of his neck, hoping he'll wake up and silence the blaring alarm. But he doesn't budge.

She lets out a frustrated sigh and reaches up, tapping his cheek gently.

"Baby," she groans, her cheek still pressed against his shoulder. "Too loud."

Rafe lets out a slow breath, still in deep sleep, and with his eyes still closed, reaches for his phone on the nightstand. He taps it clumsily until the alarm finally stops ringing.

MJ settles back against him, breathing in the scent of his skin, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on his chest. She draws little hearts on his skin, her nails lightly grazing over his stomach, moving lower toward his waistband. She stops, caught on the deep V of muscle at his waist. Her finger traces the valley of his abs, then moves to the other side, following the same pattern.

His body stirs when she runs her nails lightly over his skin, just above the waistband of his sweatpants, and she feels him tighten beneath her fingers.

"That's nice, baby," he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep. "I love these hands."

Rafe laces his fingers with hers, pulling her closer as his arm slides around her shoulders, tugging her into his side. He presses a sloppy kiss to her temple, his lips warm and familiar.

MJ raises their hands, kissing each of his knuckles with exaggerated affection. "Maybe you should stay home today," she suggests, her voice playful. "Then you can enjoy these hands all day."

He smiles, but he doesn't open his eyes. It's a game they play every morning. MJ tries to convince him to skip work, and every time, without fail, he refuses. He's always up and gone before sunrise, leaving her with a cup of coffee and a kiss as he heads out the door.

"Sounds perfect," he says, his voice thick with sleep, "but we've got people here."

Rafe's breath evens out again as he starts to drift back to sleep. MJ's fingers resume their lazy tracing on his chest, but her thoughts quickly turn to more convincing arguments. She could say a hundred things to keep him here, but before she can, the alarm sounds again, loud and obnoxious.

MJ groans, rolling over him and reaching for his phone on the nightstand. As her hand stretches out, Rafe seizes the moment to slide his arm under her shirt, his hand warm against the small of her back. The touch makes her pause, the warmth of his skin distracting her from the alarm. But the blaring sound snaps her back to reality, and she slaps the phone screen until the noise stops.

"Just hitting snooze," she says with a grin, settling back down against him. "Five more minutes."

Rafe opens one eye, his sleepy smirk forming. "Liar," he mutters. "You turned it off."

MJ feigns shock, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Are you calling me a liar, Rafe Cameron?"

He chuckles under his breath. "You sit on a throne of lies, baby."

"I was hoping you'd fall back to sleep," she admits with a giggle, pressing a soft kiss to his chest, right over his heart.

"I knew it," he says, sounding too amused for someone still half-asleep.

Rafe sits up in bed, and MJ immediately feels the cold air where his warmth had been, causing her to pout. She reaches for him, tugging at his arm, trying to pull him back down.

"Nooo," she whines, her fingers trailing down his arm. "Don't go yet."

He grins down at her, leaning over to kiss her jaw and then her lips, lingering as if he could steal just a few more seconds of peace. When he finally pulls away, he stands, walking toward the wall of windows. The sight of his bare back, the muscles flexing as he moves, makes her stomach flip. It's like the magnetism between them grows stronger every day.

Rafe reaches for the curtains and pulls them wide open. The sunlight floods the room, and MJ squints against it, shielding her eyes from the overwhelming brightness. It burns, but at the same time, it feels like a part of him is taking over the whole space, just like he always does.

"Too bright, Rafe!" MJ groans, pulling the pillow over her face in a futile attempt to shield herself from the blinding sunlight creeping through the curtains. She's half-dazed, still wrapped in the warmth of sleep, but the early morning light feels too much, too soon.

Rafe, standing tall in the doorway, lets out a quiet chuckle before giving her a knowing smirk. His silhouette casts a long shadow across the room, blocking the harsh sunlight just enough to make the moment feel a little more bearable.

"I'll make you some coffee ," he says, his voice rich with both promise and amusement. He turns to leave, but MJ, now alone in the dimness, buries herself further into the bed, clutching the pillow tightly as though it could make him stay a little longer.

It feels almost silly to complain when his hard work is the reason she's sprawled in bed like this, able to sleep in on a weekday. When he's not with her, he's at the office, pushing through long hours to give them everything they have. But it doesn't stop her from wanting him here, with her, a little longer—just long enough to forget about the world outside their bedroom.

Before he came into her life, MJ used to be an early riser—on her own schedule, always in control. But now, with him, everything's different. The way he makes her feel every night when he comes home, the way he takes his time with her, slow and steady, until she falls asleep clinging to him—it's like she's someone new. She'd give anything to keep him in bed longer, just to feel him close again.

A mischievous thought crosses her mind, and she quickly tosses the covers off, moving quickly before he can return.

When Rafe steps back into the room a few minutes later, coffee in hand, he nearly drops it when he sees her. His breath catches, and his eyes go wide at the sight of her. She's laying across the bed, facing away from him, her body adorned in nothing but a lace bra and matching panties. Her figure is accentuated by the light from the window, casting sultry shadows on the wall. The sight of her curves, the delicate lace teasingly riding up, drives him wild.

Rafe tries to keep his composure, shaking his head with a small, knowing smile. "Nice try," he says, but the strain in his voice, the crack that betrays his growing arousal, tells a different story. He's fighting it, but he's already lost.

MJ remains calm, not even glancing over at him. Instead, she bends one leg and slides it up, giving him the perfect view of her body, her ass teasing him just enough. She feels his eyes on her without needing to look, knowing the effect she's having.

"It's not going to work..." Rafe murmurs, trying to convince himself as he sets the coffee down. He's fully intent on leaving for work, to grab his clothes from the closet and walk out the door, but instead, he finds himself frozen in place, unable to move.

"What's not going to work?" MJ feigns innocence, her voice sweet, but the smile tugging at her lips betrays her playful intentions. She can hear the tension in his voice, the way his resolve is slipping.

"I have meeting," he says, the words more of a plea than a declaration. "I can't be late. It's important."

MJ stretches lazily on the bed, her body arching just enough to tease him, and she yawns as if she's just getting comfortable. "Okay, baby," she says, her voice light. "Have a good day."

She can't help but smile at the crack in his resolve, the way he's so clearly fighting himself. He hasn't moved toward the closet yet, and she knows he's not sure what to do. The tension in the room feels thick, the game they're playing more delicious because they're not alone.

They're staying in a large house with their friends, some of whom are scattered throughout the other rooms. She can almost hear the sound of footsteps in the hallway, the occasional laugh or murmur coming through the walls. It makes things all the more thrilling. They all know Rafe's on his way out soon, but she's not going to make it easy for him.

She can almost hear the others outside, probably still asleep, blissfully unaware of the game she's playing with Rafe, of the way he's trying so hard not to give in to her.

He smiles down at her, clearly torn between staying and leaving, but when he leans in to kiss her temple one last time, she feels the warmth of his lips against her skin. He stands to leave, though, and MJ can't help but paw at his arm, pulling him back toward the bed with a quiet, playful whine.

"No, don't go yet," she pouts, her voice low and teasing.

Rafe smiles as he leans down one last time, brushing his lips gently against hers, just a soft press before he pulls away again. But this time, he can't quite get himself to move. Instead, he stands there, caught in the tension, torn between his responsibilities and the temptation in front of him.

MJ watches him closely, her smile widening as she stretches out on the bed. The house may be full of their friends, but right now, it feels like it's just the two of them—locked in a battle of wills, neither willing to back down.

The mattress dips under Rafe's weight, and MJ feels the heat radiating from him before his skin even meets hers. His hand moves up her leg, slow and deliberate, dragging from her ankle to her thigh, where he pauses just long enough to squeeze her tightly.

"You're going to be late," MJ says with a cheeky grin, her voice sweet but laced with mischief.

Rafe huffs a frustrated laugh, his forehead dropping onto her shoulder as he exhales in exasperation. "You're killing me," he mutters, clearly fighting the need to stay.

"I'm not doing anything!" she teases, arching her back and giving him an even better view, her nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric of her bra. She knows he's watching, and she can't help but enjoy the way he looks at her—hungry, desperate, ready to lose control.

His voice is low, nearly a growl as he says her name. It's full of need and frustration. MJ turns her head just enough to meet his eyes, blinking up at him sweetly, her lashes fluttering as she gazes up at him innocently.

"Yes?" she asks, her lips curving up into a knowing smile.

Rafe doesn't answer with words, his gaze locked onto her as he takes in every inch of her body. His blue eyes are wide with lust, pupils dilated, his hand moving to her jaw, gripping it possessively. She knows what he wants, and it's obvious in the way he looks at her—like he can't resist much longer.

"Can I at least get a kiss before you go?" she asks, her voice soft but teasing, her eyes glinting with mischief.

Rafe doesn't hesitate. He crashes his lips onto hers, a brutal kiss, as if he's starving. His hand grips her jaw harder, taking control as he deepens the kiss, his tongue demanding entrance. MJ sighs against his mouth, parting her lips to let him in fully, the game already over. She knows this is how he'll mark her—claim her in a way he can't deny.

With a harsh squeeze of her thigh, Rafe pulls back just enough to reach for his phone on the nightstand. MJ watches him with a victorious grin, knowing she's won, that he won't be going anywhere. He quickly types out a message, likely to his secretary, and tosses the phone carelessly back onto the bed.

"Bought us an hour," he says, his voice heavy with desire, the edges of his words still rough from the kiss.

"Only an hour?" MJ pouts, her voice dripping with feigned disappointment.

"Don't be greedy," he retorts, his tone a bit more commanding as he shifts behind her, sliding his body against hers as he spoons her. His lips press dozens of quick kisses along her arm, each one leaving her skin tingling, but it's the firm pressure of his body against hers that makes her shiver.

Rafe's hand slides from her thigh, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist, moving down until it rests possessively on her stomach. He pulls her against him, pressing his erection into her back as he sucks at the sensitive skin of her neck, his lips leaving marks in their wake.

"You know," MJ says, her voice laced with guilt, though she's not sure she truly feels it, "Wasn't that meeting important?"

Rafe doesn't even pause. He lifts his head just enough to look down at her, his expression dark and serious. "Nothing's more important than this," he growls, his grip tightening on her body.

Her breath catches at his words, a wave of desire flooding her. She's helpless beneath him, her body already responding to his dominance as his hand moves up her stomach, gliding slowly until it rests over her breast, squeezing it firmly.

"Oh," she gasps as he kneads her, her back arching into him instinctively. "That feels so good."

Rafe grins, his eyes sparkling with amusement and dominance. "Yeah?" he purrs, his hand tightening around her chest as he leans down to whisper in her ear, his voice rough and confident. "Just needed a little attention today?" His teeth graze her earlobe, sending a shiver down her spine as he claims her once more.

────

The morning sunlight filtered through the large windows of their new home, casting a warm glow over the sleek countertops and high ceilings. MJ stood in the kitchen, the faint sizzle of bacon filling the air as she flipped it in the pan. She was dressed in one of Rafe's oversized t-shirts, her hair a messy knot on top of her head. A small smile tugged at her lips as she thought about the night before—chaotic, wild, but ultimately theirs.

She was plating the eggs when she heard the shuffle of bare feet behind her. Before she could turn around, strong arms slid around her waist, pulling her back against a warm, solid chest.

"Morning, Mrs. Cameron," Rafe murmured, his voice gravelly with sleep. He pressed a soft kiss to the side of her neck, making her shiver slightly.

MJ chuckled, shaking her head. "Not married yet, Rafe."

"Technicality," he said, spinning her around to face him. His eyes were still heavy-lidded, his hair adorably dishevelled, but his grin was pure mischief. He cupped her face, tilting her chin up to kiss her deeply, the kind of kiss that made her toes curl and the world disappear.

When they finally broke apart, MJ's cheeks were flushed, and she rolled her eyes, though she couldn't hide her smile. "You're ridiculous."

"And you love it," he shot back, stealing a piece of bacon from the plate behind her.

Before MJ could respond, a loud groan interrupted them. They both turned to see Topper sprawled out on the couch, rubbing his eyes and looking like he hadn't slept at all. He sat up slowly, yawning before glancing at the two of them with a smirk.

"God, you two are nauseating," he said, running a hand through his messy hair.

Rafe chuckled, pulling MJ closer to his side. "Don't act like you're not jealous, Top."

Topper ignored him, his smirk widening as he leaned back against the couch cushions. "So, you guys hear about JJ yet?"

At the mention of her brother, MJ stiffened slightly. "What about JJ?"

Topper's laugh was immediate, loud and borderline mocking. "Oh, man, you're gonna love this. Word is, he blew all the money."

Rafe frowned, his arm tightening around MJ. "What money?"

Topper raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. "The money MJ had left. You know, her cut?" He gestured vaguely. "Apparently, your boy went and spent it on his trash house."

MJ blinked, her stomach dropping. "Wait... what? What house?"

Topper grinned, clearly revelling in the drama. "Your old one. The place you grew up in. He bought it."

The kitchen fell silent. MJ's mind was racing, a mix of shock, anger, and something she couldn't quite place bubbling up inside her.

Rafe let out a low whistle, running a hand through his hair. "That's... bold," he said carefully, glancing at MJ.

"Bold? It's insane!" MJ snapped, stepping away from Rafe. She paced the length of the kitchen, her hands running through her hair. "Why the hell would he do that? He knows—he knows—how much I hate that place!"

Rafe reached for her, his hands settling on her shoulders. "Babe, calm down. We'll figure this out."

MJ looked up at him, her eyes blazing. "I can't believe he would do this without even telling me. That was my money, Rafe. My money."

Topper, still lounging on the couch, raised a hand. "Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I think it's hilarious."

Rafe shot him a warning look. "Not the time, Top."

MJ let out a frustrated sigh, turning away and leaning against the counter. Her mind was spinning with memories of that house—the fights, the chaos, the pain. It wasn't just a house to her; it was a symbol of everything she had tried to leave behind.

Rafe stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her from behind. "Hey," he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. "We'll handle this. You're not dealing with this alone."

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. As much as she wanted to be angry, the steadiness of Rafe's presence grounded her.

"I just don't understand why he'd do it," she whispered. "It doesn't make any sense."

Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Maybe he thought he was doing something good. You know JJ—his heart's in the right place, even if his brain isn't."

That drew a small, reluctant laugh from MJ. "Yeah... that sounds like him."

Topper snorted from the couch. "Man, I should've filmed this. This is gold."

"Top, shut up," Rafe said, though there was no real heat in his voice. He tightened his hold on MJ, his voice softening. "We'll figure it out, MJ. I promise."

She nodded slowly, leaning back into him. "Thanks, Rafe."

"Always," he said, kissing her temple.

MJ plated the last of the bacon and eggs, the smell of breakfast filling the kitchen as she moved with quiet efficiency. Her mind was still racing from Topper's bombshell about JJ, but for now, she pushed it aside. She turned, setting the plates down in front of the boys.

Topper grinned as he dug in. "Forever going to be crashing here. You're the only one who cooks a decent meal around here, MJ."

"Don't get used to it," MJ shot back, though there was a hint of a smile on her lips.

Rafe leaned back in his chair, fork in hand, giving her one of his trademark smirks. "Breakfast and attitude? What more could a guy ask for?"

MJ rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the small grin tugging at her lips. She was about to sit down when the sound of soft footsteps on the stairs drew her attention.

Turning, her eyes widened—and then narrowed—at the sight of Savanna descending the stairs. The girl was dressed in what could barely be called sleepwear: a lacey tank top that left little to the imagination and the shortest pair of shorts MJ had ever seen.

"Morning," Savanna said breezily, brushing her messy hair over one shoulder as she stepped into the kitchen.

MJ's jaw tightened. "What the hell is this?"

Savanna blinked, feigning innocence. "What's what?"

"You," MJ snapped, gesturing to her outfit. "Why are you here, and why are you dressed like that?"

Savanna shrugged, sauntering over to the coffee maker as if she owned the place. "Rafe said I could crash here."

MJ's head whipped around to glare at Rafe, who was suddenly very interested in his plate of eggs. "Rafe?"

He raised his hands defensively, still chewing. "She needed a place to stay. What was I supposed to do, let her sleep in her car?"

"You have two extra rooms," Savanna interjected, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "He said it wouldn't be a problem."

MJ's eyes burned with fury as she turned back to Rafe. "You didn't think to run this by me?"

Rafe sighed, setting his fork down. "Babe, it's not a big deal. She's just here for a few nights."

"Not a big deal?" MJ repeated, her voice rising. "You let her stay here without even asking me, and she's walking around dressed like that? Are you kidding me, Rafe?"

Savanna smirked over the rim of her coffee mug, clearly enjoying the tension. "Relax, MJ. It's just clothes. Or, well... lack of them."

"Shut up, Savanna," MJ snapped, her fists clenching at her sides.

Topper, still seated at the table, leaned back in his chair with a wide grin. "Man, this is better than TV."

Rafe shot him a warning look before turning back to MJ. "Look, I didn't think it was a big deal. She needed a place to crash, and we had the space."

"This isn't about space," MJ shot back. "It's about you making decisions without me. And her walking around like she owns the place."

Rafe stood, his hands resting on MJ's shoulders as he tried to calm her down. "I'm sorry, okay? I should've talked to you first. But it's just for a couple of days, I promise."

MJ glared up at him, her jaw still tight. "You owe me for this."

Rafe nodded quickly. "Whatever you want, babe. You name it."

Savanna took a slow sip of her coffee, her smirk still firmly in place. "Don't worry, MJ. I'll stay out of your way."

"Yeah, you'd better," MJ muttered, stepping out of Rafe's hold and grabbing her own plate.

Topper chuckled as he stuffed another bite of bacon into his mouth. "You guys are like a married couple already. It's adorable."

"Shut up, Topper," MJ and Rafe said in unison, earning another laugh from him.

As MJ sat down, she couldn't help but glance over at Savanna, who had perched herself on the edge of the counter, sipping her coffee like she didn't have a care in the world.

This was going to be a long couple of days.

MJ pushed her plate aside, her appetite gone thanks to Savanna's irritating presence. She stood abruptly, grabbing her phone from the counter.

"I'm going to stop by my dad's and grab the rest of my stuff," she announced, her voice tight.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the kitchen island. "I'll drive you."

Before MJ could respond, Topper snorted, stretching lazily in his chair. "Yeah, right. You've got security coming, remember? The dude's supposed to be here in like ten minutes to install the system."

Rafe frowned, clearly torn between handling the security and accompanying MJ. He glanced at her, and then his expression shifted into something smug. "Fine. Take my truck."

MJ blinked, surprised. "You're letting me drive the truck?"

Rafe smirked, tossing her the keys. "Yeah, but don't get too excited. Just don't hit anything, alright? I've heard about your driving, MJ. Word is, it's terrible."

MJ caught the keys, glaring at him. "First of all, my driving is fine. Second, who the hell have you been talking to?"

Topper grinned as he leaned back in his chair. "Oh, everyone. Pretty sure JJ said you couldn't parallel park to save your life."

MJ rolled her eyes, clutching the keys tightly. "JJ's an idiot, and I'll have you know I can parallel park. I just choose not to."

"Yeah, okay," Rafe drawled, clearly enjoying himself. "Just bring the truck back in one piece. I don't feel like dealing with insurance."

MJ narrowed her eyes at him but didn't rise to the bait. "Whatever, Rafe. I'll see you later."

She turned to leave, but not before catching Savanna's smug smile out of the corner of her eye. MJ gritted her teeth and forced herself to keep walking.

As she stepped outside, she muttered to herself, "He's lucky I don't just crash this damn truck on purpose."

The morning air was crisp, and the truck gleamed in the driveway, its black paint catching the sunlight. MJ climbed into the driver's seat, adjusting the mirrors and grumbling under her breath about Rafe's endless teasing.

She started the engine, the familiar roar vibrating through the truck. Despite her irritation, she couldn't help but smile slightly. Driving Rafe's truck wasn't just practical—it was satisfying.

As she pulled out of the driveway, MJ thought about her old place and the rest of her stuff. She wasn't looking forward to the awkwardness that might come with running into Kie—or worse, John B himself—but at least it would give her some space from the circus back at her house.

MJ pulled up to the curb outside her old house, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. The place hadn't changed much since she'd left. The paint was still peeling in places, the shutters hanging slightly askew, and the lawn looked like it hadn't been mowed in weeks. The sight of it stirred up a mix of emotions she wasn't ready to unpack.

She cut the engine of Rafe's truck and sat there for a moment, staring at the house where so much of her life had happened—the good, the bad, and everything in between. Shaking off the weight of nostalgia, she grabbed the tote bag from the passenger seat and stepped out.

The door creaked loudly as she pushed it open, the familiar sound echoing through the quiet space. Inside, the house smelled faintly of dust and sea air, just as it always had. The furniture was still there, worn and mismatched, and her footsteps felt heavy as she walked across the creaky floorboards.

She spotted her things piled in the corner of her old bedroom—some clothes, a few books, and a pair of sneakers she'd forgotten about. MJ knelt down, starting to pack everything into the bag. Her fingers brushed against a photo frame she hadn't seen in years—a picture of her and JJ as kids, smiling wide and carefree. For a moment, she paused, her throat tightening.

The sound of footsteps made her glance up sharply, and her heart sank when Sarah stepped into the doorway.

"Didn't think I'd run into you here," Sarah said, her tone guarded, her arms crossed over her chest.

MJ sighed, standing up and slinging the tote bag over her shoulder. "Yeah, well, I'm just grabbing the last of my stuff."

Sarah lingered in the doorway, her gaze sweeping over the room before landing back on MJ. "Feels weird, doesn't it? Being back here."

MJ shrugged, trying to keep her voice even. "Not really. It's just a house."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that? Because you look like you're about to bolt out of here any second."

MJ glared at her, her jaw tightening. "What do you want, Sarah? If you're here to lecture me, don't bother. I'm not in the mood."

Sarah held up her hands in mock surrender. "Relax, I'm not here to fight. I just..." She trailed off, her expression softening slightly. "I'm just worried about you, MJ. That's all."

MJ rolled her eyes, brushing past Sarah to head for the door. "I'm fine, okay? You don't need to worry about me."

Sarah followed her, her voice taking on a sharper edge. "You're living with Rafe, MJ. How can you stand there and tell me you're fine when we both know what he's like?"

MJ stopped in her tracks, spinning around to face Sarah. "You don't know him like I do, Sarah. He's not the same guy you think he is."

Sarah scoffed, crossing her arms again. "Oh, come on. Do you really believe that? You really think he's changed? He's my brother, I know him."

MJ's hands clenched into fists at her sides. "You don't get it. You've always been so quick to judge like you're so much better than the rest of us."

Sarah's eyes narrowed. "That's not what this is about, and you know it. I'm just trying to look out for you, MJ. You're my friend—or at least, you used to be."

MJ's chest tightened at the words, but she forced herself to stay composed. "I don't need you to look out for me, Sarah. I can handle myself."

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the tension thick between them. Finally, Sarah sighed, her expression softening again. "Just... be careful, okay? You're not as invincible as you think you are."

MJ didn't respond. She turned and walked out the door, the weight of the conversation pressing down on her shoulders. As she climbed back into Rafe's truck and started the engine, she glanced back at the house one last time.

It wasn't just a house. It was a chapter of her life she wasn't sure she could ever fully close. But for now, she left it behind, the rumble of the truck's engine drowning out the memories she didn't want to face.

When MJ pulled up to the house and parked Rafe's truck in the driveway, the faint sound of music and laughter carried through the air. Her brows furrowed as she stepped out, slinging her tote bag over her shoulder. She could already tell something was off.

The front door was slightly ajar, and when MJ stepped inside, her suspicions were confirmed. Topper was sprawled across the couch, holding a beer in one hand, while Savannah and some brunette girl MJ didn't recognize were perched on the armchairs, giggling and whispering.

What caught MJ's attention, though, was Rafe. He was standing by the kitchen counter, shirtless, with a beer in one hand and his other hand raking through his messy hair. His tan skin gleamed under the soft light, and there was a lazy smirk on his face as he leaned against the counter, talking to Topper about something she couldn't quite make out.

The giggles from Savannah and the brunette grew louder as they openly eyed him, their gazes lingering far too long on his abs and the way his muscles flexed. 

Savannah even twirled a strand of her hair, leaning forward as if she was trying to get a better view.

MJ's jaw tightened, and her grip on the tote bag's strap became ironclad. She walked further into the room, her boots clicking against the hardwood floor, which drew their attention.

"MJ's back," Topper announced with a grin, lifting his beer in mock celebration. "How was your trip down memory lane?"

"It was fine," MJ replied curtly, her eyes darting to Rafe, who seemed unbothered by the whole scene.

Savannah's lips curled into a sly smile as she glanced at MJ. "We were just hanging out. Hope you don't mind," she said, her voice dripping with false innocence.

The brunette chimed in, her tone equally saccharine. "Yeah, Rafe was just keeping us entertained."

MJ's eyes narrowed at the implication, and she dropped the tote bag onto the floor with a thud. "Funny, I don't remember inviting an audience."

Rafe finally looked at her, his smirk widening. "Relax, MJ. They're just crashing for a bit. You know, making use of those two extra rooms you're so fond of reminding me about."

MJ shot him a sharp glare. "They don't live here, Rafe."

Savannah arched a brow, leaning back in the chair and crossing her legs. "Guess you're not big on southern hospitality, huh?"

Before MJ could snap back, Rafe stepped forward, beer still in hand, and leaned casually against the doorway leading to the kitchen. "What's the big deal? It's not like they're hurting anyone."

MJ folded her arms over her chest, her glare shifting between Savannah, the brunette, and then finally landing back on Rafe. "The big deal is that this is my house too, and I didn't sign up for a revolving door of your friends and their... groupies."

Topper laughed from the couch, clearly enjoying the show. "Oh, come on, MJ. Don't be so uptight. It's not like Rafe's throwing a rager or anything - again."

Savannah smirked again, her eyes flicking back to Rafe. "We can leave if we're such a problem," she said, though her tone made it clear she had no intention of going anywhere.

Rafe rolled his eyes, stepping closer to MJ. "Look, they're not staying forever. Just let it go, okay?"

MJ's jaw clenched as she stood her ground. "You know what? Fine. But they don't touch my stuff, and they're gone by tomorrow."

Rafe tilted his head, his expression unreadable for a moment before he smirked again. "Whatever you say, boss."

MJ turned on her heel and headed toward her room, ignoring the laughter that followed her down the hall. As she closed the door behind her, she took a deep breath, trying to shake off the irritation that was bubbling inside her.

This was supposed to be a fresh start. But with Rafe, Topper, and now Savannah and her entourage, it was starting to feel like anything but.

────

authors note:

changed my mind, I'm going to continue updating this book until it's up to date with season 4's ending... c: don't get to comfy with rafe and mj because some shit's really gonna test them. 

whats one thing you hate seeing in rafe books? and whats one thing you wish you saw?