「 ✦ GROUNDED ✦ 」

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* AUTHORS NOTE / APOLOGY: SCREAMING. I UPLOADED THE WRONG CHAPTER SO HERES THIS CHAPTER, THE ONE I ACCIDENTLY UPLOADED, AND THE SMUT CHAPTER BACK TO BACK.

SUTTON'S EYES WERE FIXED ON THE floor, her pulse pounding in her ears as Gabrielle's words echoed through the house. The argument had escalated beyond what she had expected, and now her mother had finally reached her breaking point.

"You're grounded, Sutton," Gabrielle's voice was firm, final. "No phone, no friends, no parties. You're not leaving this house until you figure yourself out."

Sutton's jaw clenched, her fists curling at her sides. "You can't do that," she snapped, her tone defensive but shaky. She couldn't believe it—grounded? Like she was still some kid who needed to be controlled.

Gabrielle crossed her arms, her face unreadable. "I just did. You've been reckless, Sutton, and it's not just affecting you anymore. It's affecting the people who care about you." She took a deep breath, and for a moment, her expression softened. "I'm doing this because I love you, and because you need a wake-up call."

Sutton didn't respond. What was there to say? Her mother had always been the queen of control, and now that same control was suffocating her. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but instead, she just stood there, her heart pounding in her chest, burning with a mix of anger and helplessness.

Without another word, Gabrielle left, the door clicking shut behind her with a quiet finality. Sutton felt the weight of the silence settle over her, thick and oppressive.

She made her way to the stairs, slumping down onto the bottom step. Her eyes flicked toward the front door as the sound of footsteps grew louder. Olivia, Sarah, and a few of their friends were getting ready to leave for a party—one of those big Kook parties everyone would be talking about for weeks. They looked like they were in a world of their own, carefree and oblivious to the storm that had just blown through Sutton's life.

Olivia was laughing with Sarah, her voice high-pitched and filled with a fake sweetness that Sutton hated. She was wearing a tight, skin-baring dress, her hair perfectly styled, and her face looked like it had been painted on with an air of effortless perfection.

"You think you're going to get out of this one, Sutton?" Olivia's voice rang out as she looked down at her from the top of the stairs, a smirk dancing on her lips. "Mom's got you on lockdown. You're stuck here. Where you belong."

Sutton's fists clenched again, the urge to snap back rising within her, but she didn't. Instead, she just looked at Olivia, her gaze cold and empty. "Whatever, Olivia. Enjoy the party."

Sarah, standing next to Olivia, chimed in, her voice dripping with condescension. "You really think you're special, don't you? Just because you can't handle your emotions like everyone else, doesn't mean you get to act like you're above it all."

Sutton bit her tongue, fighting the urge to fire back. They're not worth it, she reminded herself, but it was hard to ignore the bitter taste of betrayal in her mouth. It wasn't just Olivia. It wasn't just Sarah. It was everyone. Everyone she thought cared about her—everyone who just expected her to be perfect, expected her to live up to whatever standard they'd set for her.

The door swung open, and two other girls—Kara and Lauren—strolled in, laughing and oblivious to the tension that filled the air. They looked at Sutton with fake sympathy before exchanging knowing glances, their eyes flicking from her to the front door.

"Well, we're off to the party. I'm sure you'll have fun staring at your phone while we're all out living our best lives," Kara said with a wink, making Sutton's blood boil.

Sutton stood up, her hands gripping the railing tightly as she watched them walk out the door. They didn't care. They didn't even see what was really happening, what was tearing her apart. All they cared about was the next party, the next thing to distract them from their own emptiness.

As they piled into their cars and drove off, Sutton stayed there, standing on the stairs, watching the taillights disappear into the distance. She couldn't help but feel like an outsider in her own life. The rage inside her was starting to bubble over again, but this time, it wasn't just about the fight with her family or the Pouges—it was about feeling trapped, suffocated by expectations and the constant pressure to be something she wasn't.

Her phone buzzed on the step beside her, but she didn't pick it up. She didn't care who it was. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

But as the minutes passed, the anger slowly twisted into something else. Something dark. She didn't know how to deal with it. Didn't know how to fix it.

She stood there for what felt like hours, the emptiness of the house pressing in around her. The sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore seemed miles away, lost in the fog of her frustration and hurt.

The party would go on without her, and the world would keep turning. But right now, in this moment, she felt like she was the only one left behind.

Sutton stood frozen at the bottom of the stairs, the weight of her mother's punishment heavy on her chest, and her mind a storm of confusion and anger. Every nerve in her body felt frayed, as if they were stretched too thin, and her pulse raced wildly in her ears. She could still hear the sound of Olivia's laughter echoing in her head, the cruel words, the way they all dismissed her as if she didn't belong. As if she wasn't one of them.

She turned sharply, her eyes flashing toward the mirror in the hallway. It wasn't the first time she'd looked at herself, but it was the first time she truly saw it. The reflection staring back at her wasn't just Sutton Bennett. No, that was a lie. She was more than that.

She was a Hayes.

The realization hit her like a slap across the face.

Her chest tightened, the intensity of it nearly knocking the wind out of her. She could feel her heart thudding, faster and faster, each beat vibrating through her veins like a drum. She wasn't some outsider, some failure trying to fit into a world that wasn't hers. She was a part of it. By blood, by legacy. She was a Hayes—a Kook—and everyone had forgotten that for too long.

A cruel smile twisted at the corners of her lips, something sharp and dangerous flickering in her eyes. Olivia had made it so damn easy for everyone to forget. The perfect little princess, the one who always had her shit together. The one who always knew how to play the game.

But Sutton? She was done being the one left behind. She wasn't going to sit in the shadows anymore, quietly simmering with resentment. She wasn't going to let Olivia and the rest of them treat her like she was some mistake they could brush aside.

No more.

Her breath quickened as the manic energy spiraled through her, a whirlwind of thoughts, impulses, and fantasies swirling together. She could feel it—this rush of power, of confidence that she had been missing all her life. She could have it all. She could be the one they all talked about. She could be better than Olivia.

She could be the Kook Queen.

The words echoed through her mind like a mantra, every repetition feeding the manic fire inside her. She started pacing, her mind racing with ideas. Olivia and the others? They had no idea what they'd just started. They thought they could walk all over her? That they could ignore her, belittle her? No. She was going to show them. She was going to make them feel everything they'd made her feel.

Her hands gripped the edge of the countertop, her nails digging into the marble as her reflection in the mirror seemed to morph into something else. It wasn't just Sutton Bennett anymore. It was a version of her that was ruthless, unhinged.

Sutton ran her hands through her hair, the adrenaline surging with every movement. She needed to act fast. She had to do something to shake them all up. She was going to make a statement—her statement. She wasn't just the girl caught between two worlds. She wasn't just someone they could ignore. She was going to take her place among them. She would make sure Olivia felt threatened. She would make sure the whole damn town felt her power.

The manic energy inside her intensified as she snatched her phone from the counter, her fingers shaking with anticipation. She flicked through her contacts, the image of Olivia's smug, perfect face lingering in her mind. She wasn't going to let it slide. Not this time. She had all the tools. All the status. All the access. She was a Hayes.

And she was going to use it.

She took a deep breath, stepping back from the mirror. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she had control. She was going to make Olivia, Sarah, and the rest of them understand exactly what it meant to mess with Sutton Bennett. They wouldn't just be looking at her from the sidelines anymore. No, they'd be bowing down to her.

It wasn't about fitting in anymore. It was about owning the space. And Sutton was ready to own it all.

A sharp, wild laugh escaped her lips, and for a moment, she didn't recognize the sound. But then it came again, louder, more confident. She was ready. She was already on her way to becoming someone they couldn't ignore. Someone they couldn't control.

The fight had only just begun.

Sutton stood in front of the mirror, her reflection staring back at her, glowing with confidence. The storm inside her was still raging, but now, it was focused. She had a plan. She was going to make her presence known at the Kook party, and everyone was going to feel the heat of her ambition. The way she dressed was going to send a message—a bold, undeniable one.

Her outfit was carefully chosen, the curve-hugging dress clinging to every inch of her body in all the right ways. The deep V-neckline accentuated her cleavage, the fabric emphasizing her curves in a way that was hard to ignore. The dress was a striking contrast of sexy and bold, leaving little to the imagination, but giving just enough mystery to pull them in. She had her hair done—loose, wild waves cascading down her shoulders, perfect for the occasion. And as she stood there, finishing the last touches, she knew she was a 10/10 on the jaw-dropping scale. No one would look at her and think she was still the same girl who'd been dismissed by Olivia and the rest of them.

A flash of silver caught her eye—the nipple piercings she'd added recently. She didn't even think twice about them now. They were part of her transformation, part of the message she was sending.

She took one last look in the mirror, a smirk pulling at her lips. She was ready to show the world just who she was—and more importantly, who they were about to regret underestimating.

As she turned toward the door, her mind raced with what she would do next. Gabrielle was still upstairs, no doubt seething from the argument earlier, but Sutton wasn't in the mood for any more of her mother's righteous indignation. No, tonight was about her. And she didn't care who stood in her way.

Walking downstairs, Sutton made sure her heels clicked sharply on every step, each sound echoing like a drumbeat, signaling her arrival. She could already hear Gabrielle's voice from the kitchen, the soft hum of whatever she was doing. But Sutton didn't flinch. She didn't care.

When Gabrielle looked up, ready to lay into her for what she assumed was Sutton's "disrespectful" behavior, Sutton gave her nothing but a cold, unbothered stare. Without a word, Sutton stepped right past her, making sure to brush against her shoulder, her eyes locked forward.

Then, just as she reached the door, Sutton did something that only added fuel to the fire of the evening. She lifted her middle finger, flipping off her mother in one smooth motion, not even breaking stride. It was a simple, deliberate act that spoke volumes, and she didn't even look back to see Gabrielle's reaction.

The sound of her mother's angry shout didn't faze her. Sutton wasn't listening. She was done being the girl everyone told to follow the rules, to play nice. She was going to take what she wanted, no apologies.

Outside, she headed straight for Zach's car, her steps confident, her mind already focused on the chaos waiting for her at Topper's party. The Kooks had always been the ones to think they owned the place, and tonight? Sutton was going to walk into their territory and claim it as her own.

As she slid into the car and started the engine, she couldn't help but smirk. Gabrielle's house, her rules, her suffocating control—it was all behind her now. Tonight, she was going to show everyone who Sutton Hayes really was.

When she pulled up to Topper's house, the lights already flashing with the pulse of music spilling from inside, she felt a thrill shoot through her veins. The night was hers.

The party at Topper's house was already in full swing when Sutton arrived. Music thumped from the speakers, drowning out everything else. She could feel the bass in her chest, a heartbeat to match the wild thrum of her pulse. The second she stepped out of the car, she was hit with the full force of the energy—a mixture of laughter, shouting, clinking bottles, and a blur of bodies swarming around the lawn. People were clustered in groups, some dancing, some gossiping, others just soaking in the extravagant chaos of a Kook gathering.

Sutton's heels clicked loudly on the pavement as she made her way toward the front door, head held high. She felt the eyes on her before she even stepped inside, and she knew they were watching. The way people looked at her now was different—like they were waiting for something. And she was about to give it to them.

As she entered the house, the atmosphere seemed to shift. It wasn't just the Kooks noticing her—Olivia, Penny, and Kelc, the girls who always had the spotlight, suddenly seemed... dimmer. It wasn't just the way Sutton looked. It was the energy she exuded. The way she held herself now was magnetic, drawing the gaze of everyone she passed.

Olivia, standing with Penny and Kelc in the corner, narrowed her eyes when she saw Sutton. Her posture tightened, an expression of disbelief settling across her face. Penny looked at Sutton with an awkward glance, clearly taken aback by the confident stride she'd never seen from her before.

Kelc, who was usually the loudest, seemed to falter as Sutton sauntered past. Sutton could feel the tension radiating from them. They couldn't even hide their shock at the transformation. Sutton had arrived—no longer the shadow of Olivia's world, but the one casting it.

Sutton's lips curled into a smirk as she made her way toward the center of the room, eyes scanning the crowd. She didn't need to say anything. The way she was carrying herself, with a fierceness that threatened to cut through the room like a blade, was all she needed to show.

But she didn't stop there. Sutton deliberately made her way toward the bar, picking up a drink with casual ease, all while throwing a glance over her shoulder. She knew Olivia was watching her, and it sent a pulse of satisfaction through her.

Evan, one of the Kook boys known for his attention-seeking antics, was the first to approach her. His eyes flashed with interest, and there was a hint of something else there too—a challenge, a desire to win her attention. "Sutton," he greeted her with that casual smirk that made him too confident for his own good. "You look... different."

Sutton didn't miss a beat. "Do I?" she said, taking a slow sip from her drink, savoring the taste of the alcohol burning down her throat. "I guess people change when they stop trying to be something they're not."

Evan's gaze lingered for a moment, clearly intrigued. "I like this new vibe." He leaned in closer, dropping his voice. "You might just be the most interesting thing in this place tonight."

She laughed softly, the sound sharp, almost too sweet. "Trust me, Evan," she said, leaning in just enough to feel the heat of his breath against her skin. "You haven't seen anything yet."

As she pulled away, she saw the flash of jealousy in Olivia's eyes from across the room. Even Topper, standing off to the side, was eyeing her with an unreadable expression, trying to gauge her.

But it wasn't until Rafe entered the room that the tension reached its boiling point. He strolled in, his usual cocky smirk in place, his arm around some blonde girl—another Kook, of course. Sutton's eyes flashed with something sharp when she saw him. He locked eyes with her for a brief moment, and there was a flicker of something. Something familiar.

But he wasn't looking at her the way he used to. No, now he was looking at her with curiosity—mixed with a little wariness, like she was a game he wasn't sure he wanted to play. The girl on his arm wasn't even on his radar anymore. Rafe's gaze flickered back to Sutton as if sensing something had changed, and it sparked something deep inside her—a feeling that started to burn hotter than before.

Sutton didn't flinch. She met his stare with an unwavering gaze, standing tall, daring him to make the first move. But before anything could happen, Olivia was already at Rafe's side, claiming his attention as if it was still her right.

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Sutton could feel the alcohol beginning to course through her veins, a warm buzz filling her head. The energy in the party was almost intoxicating, but nothing compared to the pull of Evan as he edged closer to her. He was watching her, his gaze focused, calculating. Every inch of his body language screamed interest—an interest that wasn't just playful anymore. It was predatory. He was testing the waters, seeing how far he could push her.

"You really are something tonight, Sutton," Evan murmured, his voice a mix of admiration and something more dangerous.

She tilted her head, meeting his eyes with a smirk that didn't reach her soul. "You don't know the half of it," she replied, her words dripping with an air of confidence she hadn't even realized she possessed.

Evan chuckled, a low, teasing sound. He took a step closer, and Sutton could feel the heat from his body now, making her skin prickle with anticipation. "You've got a way about you tonight," he said, his hand brushing dangerously close to her arm. "I think you know exactly what you're doing."

Sutton didn't respond immediately. She knew exactly what she was doing. She'd always known how to play the game, but tonight? Tonight, it was different. Tonight, she wasn't just playing for attention. She was commanding it. And Evan was no exception.

"Maybe I do," she said softly, leaning in just enough for him to catch the glimmer of something raw in her eyes—a fire she hadn't let out in a long time.

His lips curved into a sly grin. He knew he had her. The question now was whether she was ready to let go completely. "I think you need a change of scenery, don't you?"

Without waiting for an answer, Evan placed his hand on the small of her back, urging her toward the hallway. The world around them seemed to blur, the sounds of the party growing distant as she followed him down a narrow corridor. The intensity of the moment pressed in on her—she wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, the desire, or the feeling of being untouchable in this moment, but something about it felt dangerously good.

Sutton wasn't thinking straight anymore. Not after the rollercoaster of emotions she'd been through. Not after the fight with her family, the tension with the Pogues, and the anger that had built up inside her, a storm that needed release. Evan was the perfect outlet—a distraction, a release valve, a way to escape.

He stopped in front of a door, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching. Then, without hesitation, he pushed the door open and gestured for her to step inside. "After you," he said, his voice low and inviting.

Sutton didn't hesitate. She walked in, the door clicking shut behind her with a finality that seemed to echo in the silence. The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the streetlights filtering through the window. Evan locked the door behind him, his eyes never leaving her as he took a few steps toward her, closing the distance with deliberate intent.

Her heart was racing, her body alive with the heat of the moment, but somewhere deep inside, she knew this wasn't the answer. This wasn't what she wanted—not really. But in that moment, she was too far gone to care. The anger, the bitterness, the hurt—it was all too much to hold in anymore. She needed to feel something—anything that would drown it all out.

Evan reached for her, his fingers brushing the edge of her cheek, his touch soft, almost too gentle for the way his eyes burned with want. "You sure about this, Sutton?" he whispered, his voice dangerously close.

Sutton's breath hitched as she tilted her head slightly, meeting his gaze with a fiery intensity that mirrored his own. "I'm sure," she breathed, her words laced with a mix of uncertainty and determination. She didn't know why, but in this moment, she needed to feel like she was in control, even if it was just for a little while.

Without another word, Evan leaned in, closing the gap between them. His lips captured hers with an urgency that made Sutton's head spin. For a moment, she lost herself in it—the heat, the passion, the sense of power it gave her. But it wasn't enough to bury the gnawing emptiness that still lingered beneath the surface. The anger she'd been carrying around was too strong to drown out.

Sutton pulled back abruptly, taking a breath, her mind racing. She wasn't ready to let it all go just yet. "I'm not here for you," she said quietly, her voice trembling ever so slightly as she stepped away from him.

Evan blinked in confusion, but the tension in the room didn't let up. There was something more beneath the surface—a crack in her carefully constructed facade. Sutton wasn't sure if he knew what was happening, but the moment felt like a storm on the verge of breaking.

Her heart pounded, her breath shallow. The alcohol was doing its job, but it was starting to feel like she was teetering on the edge of something that could destroy her. And yet, in the back of her mind, she knew that she didn't care.

The storm was already here.

She turned away, stumbling slightly on her heels as she walked toward the window, trying to steady her breath. "I think I'll pass on the fun, Evan," she said, her voice steady but her body betraying the chaos she was feeling inside. She wasn't ready to go down this path, not with him, not yet.

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Sutton's head was spinning. The party, the alcohol, and the emotions she was trying to bury had all collided, leaving her feeling manic and reckless. She was barely holding it together when a guy she barely knew, Jake, stepped in front of her. His gaze was intense, and there was something about the way he was looking at her that felt predatory, like he was trying to capitalize on her vulnerability.

"Hey, Sutton," Jake said softly, his voice low as he leaned in a little too close. His hand brushed her waist, lingering just a little longer than necessary. "You look... different tonight."

Sutton's vision swam, the alcohol heightening every touch, every word. There was a part of her that felt exhilarated, like she was on the edge of something wild and liberating. But another part of her was screaming to stop, to take control back, to remember who she was.

But the manic energy inside her was too strong. The walls she had built were crumbling, and Jake was taking full advantage of it.

"Jake..." Sutton's voice came out shaky, a breathless whisper that didn't sound like her own. She hated how easy it was to get lost in this—how quickly she could lose herself when someone paid attention, when someone saw her as the center of the chaos instead of just a pawn.

Jake's grin widened, and before Sutton could pull away, his hand grazed against the side of her face, his fingers tracing down her neck in a slow, deliberate motion. Sutton felt the heat rise in her chest, her body reacting to him in ways she couldn't control. She wanted to pull back, but the madness inside her was too loud, too overwhelming.

"Jake, stop..." Sutton muttered, though the words didn't come out with the conviction she wanted. She could feel herself slipping into something dangerous, and part of her hated how easily she was giving in to it.

Then, before Jake could close the distance between them any further, a sharp voice cut through the haze.

"Get your hands off her."

Sutton froze, the words ringing in her ears as the familiar presence of Rafe cut through the fog like a knife. He stepped in between her and Jake, his gaze icy and deadly. The intensity in Rafe's eyes was enough to make Jake hesitate, his fingers still hovering near Sutton's skin.

"I'm not playing around, Jake," Rafe said, his voice low but thick with warning. "Stay away from her."

Jake raised his hands in mock surrender, his smirk never wavering. "Relax, man. Just having a little fun." He glanced over at Sutton, eyes flickering with something darker, before turning and walking off, clearly annoyed at the interruption.

Sutton stood there, trembling, her mind whirling. She had no idea what she was doing. Her heart was beating erratically, her emotions all over the place. The high from the chaos was starting to fade, replaced by a gnawing emptiness that made her feel small.

Rafe didn't move, his body still in front of her, his presence solid and protective. He didn't speak for a moment, but the tension between them was palpable. Sutton could feel the weight of his gaze, the way he was watching her like he was trying to make sense of her.

"You good?" he asked, his voice soft now, but there was a lingering edge to it that let her know he wasn't entirely sure.

Sutton nodded, though she wasn't sure if she was convincing him or herself. "I'm fine," she said, but the words felt hollow.

Rafe didn't buy it. He reached out, his hand hovering over her shoulder before gently guiding her back a few steps. "You don't look fine. You're not fine."

The anger bubbled up in Sutton, her manic energy flickering back to life. "I don't need you or anyone else telling me what to do!"

But Rafe wasn't having it. His hand tightened on her arm for a second, not harshly, but firmly, like he was grounding her. "You're not fine. You're acting reckless, and you need to get yourself together."

Sutton turned away from him, frustration mounting. "You don't understand! Nobody understands!" she shouted, her voice rising.

For a moment, it seemed like Rafe might snap, like he might lose control just as she had. But instead, he stepped back, his hands resting at his sides. "You're right," he said quietly, "I don't understand. But I'm not letting you fall apart like this."

There was something in his tone, something raw and protective, that hit her in a way she didn't expect. Her chest tightened as the adrenaline from her manic state started to subside, replaced by a deep, aching emptiness.

Rafe stood there, still watching her, but this time, his expression softened just a fraction."I'm taking you home." 

Sutton stood frozen, the anger bubbling up in her veins, but Rafe wasn't backing down. His presence was solid, and his tone was sharp as he spoke. "You think you're fine, but you're not. You're a damn mess, Sutton."

Her chest tightened, and she felt the instinct to snap back, to push him away, to tell him off. "I'm not a mess. I'm just fine, okay? Stop trying to act like you know me."

Rafe rolled his eyes, taking a step closer, clearly unimpressed by her deflecting. "Oh, I know you all right," he said, his voice oozing with sarcasm. "You're always trying to be this tough girl, pretending like you don't need anyone. But we both know that's not true." He ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated with her. "Look, I'm not some damn therapist, Sutton, but I'm not gonna sit around and watch you spiral out of control, either."

Sutton opened her mouth to argue, but Rafe raised a hand, stopping her mid-sentence. "I'm not asking you to be grateful, alright? But I'm taking you home whether you like it or not."

"Fine," Sutton shot back, her words laced with bitterness. "Do whatever you want. I don't need you telling me what to do."

Rafe gave her a humorless chuckle, clearly unfazed. "I can see that," he said, his eyes narrowing. "But you sure as hell need someone to put you in check, because right now? You're a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode."

Sutton's hands balled into fists at her sides, her frustration hitting a peak. "I'm not some damn project you can fix, Rafe," she spat, stepping back. "I don't need your help, I'm fine."

Rafe took another step forward, his jaw clenched. "Stop acting like you don't need help. You're falling apart right in front of me. I've seen it before, and I'm not just going to let you keep digging yourself into this hole." He let out a sharp breath, his eyes flashing with annoyance. "You think I'm here to play hero? No, Sutton. I'm here because you need someone to put you in check, and I'm the only one who's not scared to do it."

Sutton's chest heaved with anger, but beneath the fury, something else was gnawing at her—a strange vulnerability that she didn't want to acknowledge. Rafe wasn't wrong. He never was, but that didn't mean she had to admit it.

She turned her back on him, desperately trying to regain some semblance of control. "I'm not going anywhere with you. So, drop it."

But Rafe wasn't backing down. He grabbed her arm—just tight enough to remind her he wasn't letting go, but not enough to hurt. His grip was solid, almost too much like a lifeline. "You can keep fighting me all you want, but I'm taking you home, Sutton. You're not doing this alone."

Sutton wrenched her arm away, but the anger was starting to dissolve, replaced by something deeper, something she wasn't prepared to deal with. "I don't need your help, Rafe," she muttered, voice quieter now, but the words held no weight. She hated that he was right. She hated that he was seeing through her walls, tearing them down without a second thought.

Rafe's gaze softened for a moment, and Sutton could've sworn she saw something there—something that wasn't just annoyance, wasn't just his usual cocky demeanor. It was something else, something that felt... like he cared. But before she could fully process it, he let go of her and stepped back.

"Yeah, well, tough luck, Sutton," Rafe said with a smirk, but his voice had softened just a little. "You don't have a choice. Let's go."

Sutton stood still for a moment, staring at the ground, torn between hating the situation and somehow feeling... relieved. She swallowed hard, then lifted her head, meeting his gaze.

"Fine," she said quietly, her voice shaky but defiant. "But I'm not thanking you for this."

Rafe gave her a smirk, one of those smirks that was as smug as it was knowing. "I don't need your thanks, Sutton," he said, but the flicker of something else in his eyes—something far less certain—told her otherwise.

And as they headed for the door, Sutton couldn't help but feel like maybe, just maybe, Rafe wasn't as much of an asshole as he liked to pretend. But she wasn't going to admit that to him. Not yet.

As they stepped outside, the cool night air hit Sutton like a slap in the face. Her head was spinning, a cocktail of emotions and alcohol swirling together in a dizzying blur. The laughter and chaos of the party seemed like a distant memory now, and she struggled to stay steady on her feet. She should've known the alcohol would catch up with her, but she hadn't cared in the moment. Now, it was too late.

Sutton's steps faltered as the world tilted, and she felt the ground shift beneath her feet. Before she could catch herself, her legs gave out, and she stumbled forward, crashing straight into a large, bushy shrub by the side of the driveway.

The sudden impact sent a sharp jolt of pain through her body, and she let out an unsteady laugh, her vision blurring even more. Her hands pushed against the bush, but she didn't have the strength to pull herself up. She felt completely off balance, everything around her spinning.

"Shit," Rafe muttered, his voice low and frustrated. He turned around quickly, spotting her tangled in the bushes. He hadn't expected her to go down so fast.

"Sutton," he snapped, his tone shifting from exasperated to something else—something that sounded like genuine concern, though it was hard to tell. "You okay?" He started toward her, but Sutton, still laughing weakly, pushed herself up and gave him a glare.

"I'm fine," she slurred, her words coming out slower than usual. "Just... just taking a nap with the plants. Real comfortable, actually." She giggled, but it didn't quite match the discomfort in her eyes.

Rafe's frustration deepened, but his hands were gentle as he reached down to help her, pulling her up from the bushes with a firmness that wasn't too rough. His grip was tight, his jaw clenched in annoyance, but underneath it all, there was that flicker of worry again.

"You're far from fine," Rafe growled, still steadying her as she wobbled on her feet, struggling to keep herself upright. "You've had way too much to drink. You're not fine. You're a mess, Sutton. God, why the hell do you always have to do this to yourself?" His words were harsh, but there was an edge to his voice that softened the bite, almost like he was talking to himself as much as he was talking to her.

Sutton tried to shrug him off, but her body was still swaying. She couldn't get her footing right, and the laugh she let out this time was more shaky than before. "Stop," she muttered, pushing at his chest weakly. "You don't care. You're just trying to play the hero, huh? Get me back to my mom so you can feel good about yourself?"

Rafe's jaw tightened, but he didn't let go of her. Instead, he took a deep breath, clearly frustrated. "I don't give a damn about playing any hero," he said, his voice low and sharp. "But I'm sure as hell not leaving you here to keep making a fool of yourself."

He pulled her close, his hand gripping her arm firmly as he guided her toward the car. "Come on, let's get you out of here before you end up in another damn bush or worse."

Sutton's head was still spinning, her thoughts muddled, but for some reason, she found herself leaning into him more than she would have liked. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the way his steady presence made her feel like she wasn't quite as lost as she thought she was. But she didn't want to acknowledge that—didn't want to deal with the weight of that realization, so she kept her mouth shut.

"Where's your car?" Sutton muttered, trying to look around and focus. "I don't need your help."

"Right here, genius," Rafe said, pushing open the door to his car with a little more force than necessary. He helped her into the passenger seat, frustration and concern clearly mixing in his expression. His eyes stayed on her for a moment, almost as if he was weighing whether or not he should say more, but then he slammed the door shut and walked around to the driver's side.

As the engine started and the car pulled away, Sutton sunk back into the seat, trying to calm the whirl of thoughts in her head. Rafe drove in silence for a while, the sound of tires on pavement the only thing breaking the quiet. Sutton tried to focus, tried to hold on to some sense of control, but it was slipping away fast.

She could feel Rafe's gaze flicking over to her occasionally, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. Despite his irritation, there was something else there—something that might have been... concern? She wasn't sure.

Finally, Sutton broke the silence, her voice unsteady but soft. "You're right," she said, her words slow, almost unsure. "I'm not fine. I'm... a mess."

Rafe glanced at her, his expression unreadable for a moment before he sighed. "Yeah, you are," he muttered under his breath, but there was no harshness in his tone this time. "But you're not the only one who's a mess. So stop pretending like you have to do everything on your own."

Sutton didn't know what to say to that. Instead, she just leaned back in the seat, closing her eyes for a moment, trying to shut out everything except the hum of the engine. The tension between them wasn't gone, but it felt like something was starting to crack—something that she didn't want to deal with. Not yet.

As the car moved through the dark streets, Sutton found herself drifting in and out of consciousness, her mind tangled in a haze of alcohol and fragmented thoughts. She wasn't sure how long they had been driving, but she could tell they were getting closer to home. The familiar streets, the rows of houses, the feeling of being on the edge of something she wasn't ready to face—it all made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

When she recognized the street, her eyes blinked open, and she squinted out the window. "Wait a minute," she muttered, her voice slurring slightly. "That's my house. You're... you're taking me home, right?"

Rafe didn't immediately respond, his grip on the wheel firm, his eyes focused ahead as the car cruised past her street. He could see the faint glow of lights spilling from her house, probably from her mom's lamp in the living room, and a flicker of uncertainty passed through him. He wasn't exactly sure how Gabrielle would react to her daughter stumbling home drunk, but he was pretty damn sure it wouldn't be pretty.

Sutton's gaze sharpened when she realized they were driving past her house without slowing down. She blinked again, her mind still trying to piece things together. "Wait, where are you going? That's my house!" she insisted, her voice tinged with a mix of confusion and annoyance.

Rafe's jaw clenched slightly, and he took a slow breath before responding, his tone clipped but not unkind. "Yeah, I know," he said, glancing at her for a split second before his eyes snapped back to the road. "But Gabrielle would lose her shit if you come home this way. You're 16, Sutton. I'm not leaving you to deal with her wrath. She'd have a field day with you showing up wasted. So, I'm taking you to my place. No one's home, and I'm not about to deal with her angry lectures tonight."

Sutton's brow furrowed as she processed his words, still foggy from the alcohol. "What? I'm not... I'm not going to your house, Rafe," she muttered, shaking her head as if trying to shake off the fog. "You're not my damn babysitter."

Rafe didn't take his eyes off the road, though his grip on the wheel tightened. "Look, you can either come with me and crash at my place where it's quiet, or I can drive you home, but Gabrielle will flip out. And I'm not getting caught in the middle of that mess." His voice had a certain finality to it, and despite her protests, Sutton could tell he wasn't backing down.

Sutton sat back in the seat, biting her lip as she stared out the window. She didn't want to go to his place. Didn't want to be there. But the thought of facing her mom's wrath, the judgment, the disappointment—it was almost more than she could bear at that moment. The manic energy in her had faded a little, leaving behind an aching emptiness she wasn't sure how to fill.

She let out a frustrated sigh, slumping back into the seat, and muttered, "Fine. But I'm not sleeping in your bed or anything."

Rafe glanced at her, his lips quirking up in something like a smirk. "No one said anything about you sleeping in my bed, Sutton. Relax. I'm just getting you out of this mess."

Sutton didn't respond, instead staring blankly at the passing streetlights as they continued down the road. The silence stretched between them, and for a brief moment, it felt less charged, less filled with tension. She didn't know what it was, but there was something about being in his car, in this moment of chaos, that made her feel like she was just... floating. Not having to deal with everything, even if it was temporary.

They pulled into the driveway of Rafe's house, and he parked the car, cutting the engine with a soft hum. "Here we are," he said, glancing over at her. "Stay put for a second."

He didn't wait for a response before getting out of the car and heading toward the front door, keys jangling in his hand. Sutton stayed slouched in the passenger seat, her eyes heavy with exhaustion and alcohol, her body still vibrating with that odd mixture of frustration and resignation. She could hear the faint rustle of leaves in the wind, the soft hum of the night, but all she could focus on was the unspoken tension that lingered in the air between them.

When Rafe returned a minute later, he opened the car door, giving her a small, half-annoyed look. "Let's go, princess. You wanted to avoid a fight with Gabrielle, so here you are. Now let's get you inside."

Sutton groaned but, without protest, climbed out of the car, steadying herself on the door. She couldn't help but feel the strange pull between them—the mix of irritation and something else that she didn't know how to deal with.

"Just get me inside, Rafe. I'm too tired to argue."

Rafe didn't say anything as he helped guide her toward the door, his hand hovering over her back for support. He opened the door with a flick of the wrist and gestured for her to step inside. The house was dark, but it had that quiet, empty feeling. Sutton could tell no one was home, and for the first time in a long while, she felt an odd sense of relief. Even if it was just temporary, it felt like a small escape from everything she had been running from.

She stepped in, glancing around as Rafe closed the door behind them, his eyes flicking to her as she wandered further into the dimly lit house. The tension was still there, thick in the air, but it didn't feel as suffocating as it had before. At least for now, she didn't have to deal with the aftermath of her own decisions.

"Just go lie down on the couch or something," Rafe said, his voice lower now, though the irritation still lingered. "I'm not playing nursemaid, but you're not staying up and causing any more drama tonight."

Sutton didn't respond immediately. She just dropped her bag on the floor and slid onto the couch, her head heavy as she tried to settle into the cushions. She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of the night crash down on her.

Rafe stood near the doorway, watching her, his expression hard to read. "You're a mess, Sutton," he muttered under his breath, before disappearing down the hallway.

Sutton wasn't sure how long she stayed there on the couch, her mind whirling as she tried to push away the thoughts that kept creeping in. The house was quiet, and for a moment, she allowed herself to rest, but the emptiness of it all—the silence, the uncertainty—made it hard to sleep.

She was caught somewhere between feeling like she was losing control and craving the quiet of the night.

-

A little while later, Sutton was still lying on the couch, the muffled hum of the house the only sound in the dim room. The alcohol buzz was fading, replaced by a heavy exhaustion that clung to her like a thick fog. Her thoughts were sluggish, and the night felt like it was stretching on forever, but it didn't stop her from feeling every bit of the tension that still hung in the air. The weirdness of being here, in Rafe's house, gnawed at her.

Just as she was about to drift off, the soft creak of the front door opening pulled her back to reality. Sutton lifted her head groggily, her eyes blurry as she tried to focus on the figure entering the room. Rafe appeared in the doorway, freshly showered, his hair still damp and hanging loosely around his shoulders. He looked a little more put together, but the faint lines under his eyes and the tension in his jaw told her he wasn't nearly as unaffected as he tried to seem.

He paused when he saw her on the couch, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. Without saying a word, he tossed a shirt at her, the fabric landing softly on her chest.

"Here. You need something to wear," he said, his voice still rough from the night's events.

Sutton stared at the shirt in her hands, her fingers tracing the fabric absently. She looked up at him, her brow furrowed in mild annoyance. "What, you think I'm just gonna put on your shirt like that?" she asked, her tone snarky as she flicked her gaze from the shirt to him.

Rafe leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "What's the problem? You're not gonna freeze to death in a shirt. Besides, you're too drunk to even care."

Sutton's lips twisted into a grin, but it was laced with irritation. She eyed the shirt skeptically before flopping back down onto the couch, rolling her eyes. "I'd rather sleep naked," she muttered, a defiant challenge in her voice as she stared at the ceiling, as if daring him to say something.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, the smirk deepening, but he didn't rise to her challenge. Instead, he gave a low chuckle, leaning off the doorframe and walking further into the room. "Yeah, I bet you would," he said, his voice laced with a dry amusement. "But you're not gonna. So, put the damn shirt on, or I'll toss you a blanket and let you figure it out yourself."

Sutton threw him an annoyed look, but deep down, she knew he had a point. It wasn't like she had any better option, and as much as she wanted to push his buttons, there was something about the idea of putting on his shirt that made her feel... strange. Like she was being pulled in a direction she didn't want to go, even if she wouldn't admit it aloud.

With a dramatic sigh, she finally grabbed the shirt, sitting up and pulling it over her head. It hung loosely on her frame, the fabric soft against her skin, and she couldn't help but feel that familiar awkwardness settle in her stomach. The shirt smelled like him—a mix of cologne and something else that made her pulse quicken, even if she didn't want to acknowledge it.

She glanced over at him, half-expecting him to be watching her, but Rafe was standing off to the side now, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Happy?" she muttered, giving him a pointed look. Her voice was tinged with annoyance, but it was hard to ignore the slight flush creeping up her neck. She wasn't sure what she was feeling—whether it was irritation, confusion, or something else entirely.

Rafe just chuckled, shaking his head. "You're ridiculous," he said, shaking his head like she was some kind of puzzle he couldn't figure out. "You can't even take a simple shirt without making it a damn production."

Sutton shot him an exaggerated glare but didn't say anything more, instead sinking back into the couch, feeling the weight of the night pressing on her again. She pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly as she let out a long, tired sigh.

The silence stretched out again, but this time, it felt different—less strained, maybe. Despite the tension between them, there was something almost comforting about the quiet, the presence of someone who, for all their flaws, wasn't pushing her away in that moment. And for some reason, that felt like the closest thing to safety she could find right now.

The silence between them was thick, almost unbearable. Sutton sat on the couch, still in the oversized shirt Rafe had tossed her, her mind a swirl of thoughts—disjointed and racing. The alcohol had faded but left a haze of vulnerability that she didn't know how to shake. She glanced up at Rafe as he walked back into the living room, his tousled hair still damp from his shower.

He was so calm, almost too calm for the storm brewing inside her.

"Here," Rafe said, tossing her a blanket with a casual ease that made her stomach flip. His eyes lingered on her for a moment too long, as if considering something. She met his gaze, but quickly looked away, feeling exposed in the too-big shirt that hung off her shoulders. The fabric was soft, but it didn't make her feel any less exposed.

"Thanks," she muttered, her voice small, almost lost under the weight of the silence between them.

She tugged the blanket over her legs, trying to hide the slight tremor in her hands. The quiet stretched out, the space between them growing tighter, like a pressure cooker about to explode. Rafe stood across from her, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed casually over his chest—but the way his eyes followed her every movement betrayed a different story. There was something smoldering in his gaze, a heat that was impossible to ignore.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked again, his voice low, careful, like he was testing the waters. But there was a hardness there too, like he was waiting for her to crack, to admit what was really going on behind the bravado.

"I'm fine," Sutton said, though the words felt like a lie, even to her. She could feel the fire in her veins, the manic buzz that hadn't quite left her system, and the last thing she wanted was to show him any more weakness.

"You're really good at lying to people," Rafe remarked with a sharp smirk, his tone teasing but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes, something darker. "But I'm not buying it."

She raised an eyebrow, biting back a smile. "You think you know me that well?"

He didn't answer right away, his eyes narrowing slightly. There was something about the way he studied her, like he was peeling back layers she hadn't even known existed. She couldn't decide if it made her feel more exposed or strangely understood.

Without thinking, she shifted in her seat, the movement unintentionally drawing his attention lower—her bare legs exposed beneath the shirt, the soft curve of her body making it impossible for him to ignore her. The heat between them spiked in an instant, like a current running just under the surface.

Rafe's gaze flickered back up to her face, his expression unreadable. But then he smirked again, though it was tighter this time, more controlled. "You should be careful, Sutton," he said, his voice suddenly lower, almost a whisper. "You're playing with fire."

Sutton swallowed, her pulse picking up again. She wasn't sure if he was talking about her or something else—something between them that was starting to crack and shift.

Her breath caught in her throat as Rafe took a slow step toward her, his presence enveloping her. It was like everything else in the room disappeared, and it was just the two of them. She felt every inch of the tension building between them, each word, each look, pulling her in deeper.

"Careful about what?" she breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper, the words catching on the air between them.

Rafe's eyes darkened, the edge of a challenge in his gaze. "About what you want."

She didn't have an answer to that. All she knew was that the distance between them was too much to bear, the energy between them too strong. Sutton's body betrayed her, leaning slightly forward, drawn to him in a way that made her heart race and her mind spin.

And just like that, she was no longer sure where the line was. The space between them, once so clear, had blurred until it felt impossible to go back.

Sutton's head spun from the alcohol, her heart racing in the strange, heated silence that settled between her and Rafe. She could feel the weight of his presence, the tension between them building in the quiet, despite the distance.

Rafe leaned against the back of the couch, his eyes locked on her. There was something in his gaze that made her chest tighten. It wasn't just the usual smugness. It was something darker. Something that made her feel vulnerable, exposed in a way she hadn't expected.

"What's your deal, Rafe?" Sutton asked, her voice wavering, even though she tried to sound strong. Her words were more defensive than curious, but deep down, she needed to know.

He didn't respond right away, just continued watching her, like he was weighing his words. Finally, he spoke, his voice low, almost a growl. "You're a mess, Sutton. I don't know what the hell you're trying to prove, but I'm not just gonna let you fall apart. You're not fine. Don't act like you are."

Her pulse quickened at the rawness in his voice. There was a strange warmth in his eyes, like he was letting her see something real beneath all the layers of his usual arrogance. Sutton's mind raced, but the alcohol made everything feel hazy, like she couldn't quite get a grip on her thoughts.

She shifted uncomfortably, pulling her legs up under her, trying to hide the sudden wave of emotion that swelled in her chest. "I don't need you to save me, Rafe," she snapped, though the words felt weak even to her. "I'm fine."

But even as she said it, she knew it wasn't true. She wasn't fine. She was losing control in a way that scared her, and he was the last person she wanted to see her like this. Yet, somehow, there he was, standing so close, watching her, making her feel both exposed and strangely... protected.

Rafe took a step forward, his expression changing. There was an edge to him now, something darker that made the air crackle between them. He reached out and grabbed her chin, tilting her face up toward his. "You think I'm gonna let you keep pretending you're okay? You're not."

Sutton's breath hitched in her throat. She could feel the heat from his hand on her skin, sending a jolt of something that wasn't quite anger or frustration. It was something different—something sharp, like a spark.

She wanted to push him away. She wanted to pull back and tell him to leave her alone. But for some reason, she didn't. Her gaze dropped to his lips, and in that moment, all the walls she had built up to protect herself seemed to crumble.

And then, as if reading her mind, Rafe's lips were on hers.

It wasn't gentle. It wasn't soft. It was hungry, desperate, and filled with all the things they had been holding back. The kiss was fierce, intense, a tangle of emotions that neither of them had been able to process until now.

Sutton's hands found his chest, pushing against him, but not with the intent to shove him away. It was a way to pull him closer, to feel the heat of him against her, to prove something to herself. Something she couldn't quite name.

Rafe's hands roamed to her waist, pulling her flush against him, and for a moment, the world outside of the two of them didn't matter. There was just this—just the burning need that crackled between them.

But as quickly as it started, Sutton pulled back, breathless and shaky. "This is stupid," she muttered, her voice thick with emotion. "I don't—this is not—"

Rafe didn't give her a chance to finish. His fingers brushed against her cheek, his touch soft but insistent. "It's not stupid, Sutton," he whispered, his voice quiet but intense. "You've been running from this... from us. But I'm not gonna let you keep pretending you don't feel it."

Her heart pounded, her mind spinning, torn between wanting to run and the pull she felt toward him. But Rafe wasn't going to let her escape. Not this time.

He stepped closer, his hand slipping around her waist, guiding her back toward him with a force that made her pulse race. His lips brushed against her ear as he spoke low, almost like a promise, "You're not as in control as you think you are. You never have been."

The words lingered in the air, heavy with meaning, and for the first time, Sutton didn't know whether to fight him or let herself be pulled deeper into whatever this was between them.

As they stood in the dimly lit room, the air between them was charged with an intensity neither could ignore. Sutton's heart raced in her chest, the whirlwind of emotions from the night overwhelming her. Her breathing quickened, but her body felt oddly still, as if waiting for something to give. Rafe stood inches away, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his skin, but there was a distance, an unspoken tension that neither could quite bridge.

Sutton's eyes flickered up to meet his, searching for something in his gaze—anything to anchor her in the chaos swirling around them. His expression was unreadable, a mix of concern and something darker, something more dangerous. She could see the way he fought to hold back, his jaw clenched, his body tense.

"Are you really okay?" Rafe's voice was low, rough, as though the words were dragged from him.

The question felt like a challenge, and for a brief moment, Sutton wanted to argue, to push him away. But the truth was, she wasn't okay. She hadn't been for a long time.

"I'm fine," she managed, her voice shaky but defiant, a thin veneer of control she barely recognized as her own. "Stop asking."

Rafe didn't answer right away. Instead, he reached for her, his hand hovering just in front of her shoulder as if unsure whether to touch her. But before he could, Sutton took the initiative, closing the distance between them with a sudden rush of emotion, her hands finding his chest, pushing him back just a fraction.

And that was all it took.

The air between them seemed to shatter, and without warning, Rafe's lips were on hers. The kiss was fierce, driven by something that neither of them could deny anymore. The world outside disappeared, leaving only the heat of their bodies, the sound of their ragged breaths filling the space around them.

Sutton's fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer, needing him to be closer. Rafe's hands were everywhere—on her waist, her back, tracing the curves of her body as if memorizing the feel of her skin.

But it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough to quiet the noise in their heads, the doubts, the questions that neither of them wanted to face.

Their kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more desperate. And for a moment, Sutton didn't care about anything else. She didn't care about the consequences, the questions, the people waiting for her to make a decision. In that moment, there was only Rafe, only the burning need to feel something real, something that made sense in a world that felt so uncertain.

But as the kiss began to slow, a strange sense of clarity settled in her chest. She pulled back, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she looked up at him.

"Rafe," she whispered, her voice hoarse, but steady now. "What are we doing?"

He didn't answer immediately, just stood there, his forehead resting against hers, his hands still lingering on her waist. "I don't know," he said quietly, his voice softer than she expected. "Stop asking."