「 ✦ TEACHING ✦ 」

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A COUPLE OF DAYS PASSED, AND Sutton could feel the weight of everything—her unresolved feelings for John B, her strained interactions with Olivia and Sarah, and the confusing, annoying presence of Rafe, always lurking just around the corner. It was the last day of class, and the end of the semester seemed like the perfect opportunity to escape the suffocating atmosphere that had become all too familiar.

Sutton sat in the back of the lecture hall, her eyes glazed over as the professor rambled on about something that barely registered. Her mind was elsewhere, running over conversations that felt too messy to untangle. She couldn't shake the image of Rafe from her thoughts, nor the way he had looked at her—like he was waiting for her to make a move, but when she didn't, it felt like he lost interest entirely. The same old game.

Her fingers drummed impatiently against her desk. Sutton felt restless, and there was this prickling sensation creeping up her spine, an unease that she couldn't quite explain. Something in her was shifting, like the boundary between feeling in control and losing herself was getting thinner. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt fully in control of her emotions. Everything had become increasingly overwhelming.

As the lecture continued, Sutton's mind drifted back to her interaction with Olivia a few days ago. The fight, the harsh words. She had meant what she said, but there was this growing sense of something she couldn't quite name, creeping in like a shadow at the back of her mind. Something that made her second-guess her own actions, her own feelings.

Suddenly, Sutton's heart began to race. Her breath quickened, and she could feel her palms sweating as she gripped the edge of the desk. She tried to focus, tried to pull herself back into the present, but it felt like she was sinking further into herself with every passing second. The room seemed to close in, her vision narrowing as if everything around her was fading into the background. The noise of the professor's voice became a low hum, distant and unimportant.

"Sutton?" A voice cut through the fog. She looked up, startled, only to find her classmate, Jared, standing by her desk, his face concerned.

"Uh, yeah?" she managed to say, her voice too high, too sharp. She quickly wiped her clammy hands on her jeans, trying to regain composure. "What's up?"

"You okay?" Jared asked, leaning in slightly, his brow furrowed. "You don't look so great."

Sutton's heart skipped a beat. Was it that obvious? The sudden wave of self-consciousness hit her hard, making her chest tighten. She forced a smile, but it felt strained, like her face wasn't quite cooperating. "I'm fine," she lied quickly, her voice flat. "Just a little tired. Finals, you know?"

Jared nodded, but he didn't seem entirely convinced. "If you need anything, just let me know," he said gently before walking away.

Sutton exhaled sharply, letting her head drop for a moment. She was tired. Really tired. But it wasn't just the kind of exhaustion that came from studying or long nights—it was deeper, like something inside her was wearing thin. She wanted to shake it off, to ignore it, but the feeling of being out of control lingered.

By the time the lecture ended, Sutton stood up slowly, trying to keep herself steady as she gathered her things. The room felt a little too bright, and the walls felt a little too close. She needed to leave. Needed to get out.

When she stepped outside, the cool air hit her face, but it didn't help. Her breath was still shallow, her pulse still hammering. She tried to focus, to remind herself that it was just stress. That it would pass. But something inside her felt fragile, like a tightrope ready to snap.

She wasn't sure what it was, but she knew it was there. That sense of something being off, of losing her grip. The thought lingered, unsettling and persistent. And as she walked through campus, lost in thought, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning.

Later that night, after a few more restless hours, Sutton found herself at the beach, walking aimlessly along the shoreline. She was alone—no friends, no distractions, just the sound of the waves crashing against the sand. She had tried to pretend everything was fine, but her mind kept spiraling, and the pressure was building.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, breaking the silence. It was a message from Kiara, checking in. Sutton hesitated for a moment before replying with a simple, "I'm fine. Just needed some space."

As she typed the message, her mind started to wander again, back to John B, Rafe, Olivia... all the tangled, complicated emotions that she was barely keeping together. It was too much. Too much to handle all at once.

And as the night deepened, Sutton felt a sharp stab of frustration and anger welling up inside her. Everything felt like it was slipping away—like she was losing herself in the mess of everything.

She pulled her hoodie tighter around herself, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling that refused to let go. But deep down, Sutton knew—she couldn't outrun it. Whatever this was, it was just beginning. And she wasn't sure how much longer she could keep pretending everything was okay.

────

A couple of days later, Sutton found herself sitting at the kitchen table, the scent of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. It was a rare quiet moment, but the heaviness that had been pressing on her chest for the past few days made it hard to appreciate. Her thoughts kept swirling, and every time she tried to focus on something else, the unease would creep back in, filling the empty spaces in her mind.

Gabriella, her mother, was at the counter, preparing breakfast with the same practiced efficiency she always had. Sutton watched her for a moment, trying to convince herself that everything was normal. Her mom seemed so put together, so effortlessly strong. Maybe that's what made Sutton feel like she couldn't keep up anymore.

"You alright?" Gabriella asked, not looking up from the stove.

Sutton hesitated, her fingers drumming softly on the edge of her coffee mug. She had wanted to talk to her mom about this for days but had never found the right moment. She had barely been able to make sense of her own feelings, let alone explain them to someone else. But today... today felt different. She couldn't keep pretending it wasn't there.

"Mom..." Sutton started, her voice sounding quieter than she intended. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I don't feel good again."

Gabriella paused for just a moment, her hand stilling over the frying pan. Sutton couldn't help but notice the way her mom stiffened, as though the words had startled her. But after a beat, Gabriella resumed cooking, brushing it off like it was nothing.

"You're fine, sweetie," she said with a casual flick of her wrist. "Just a little tired. Finals are always stressful."

Sutton's stomach twisted. She had heard that before. The same comforting reassurances, the same quick dismissals. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate her mom trying to keep things light, but it wasn't helping. It never really helped.

"I don't think it's just stress," Sutton muttered, her voice barely audible, but loud enough for Gabriella to hear.

Her mom's back stiffened again, though she didn't turn around. The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, until Gabriella sighed in that exasperated way that Sutton knew all too well.

"Sutton, don't start this again," Gabriella said, turning slightly to glance over her shoulder. There was an edge to her voice that Sutton hadn't expected—sharp, dismissive. "You're fine. Just get some rest, and you'll feel better."

But Sutton couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't that simple. The more she tried to push it away, the more it pressed down on her. It wasn't just the tiredness or the stress. It was something deeper—something that had been lurking for years, something that felt far too familiar.

"I don't feel fine, Mom," Sutton said, her voice rising slightly, betraying her frustration. "I'm really worried... what if I'm sick like Dad was?"

Gabriella froze. The room felt colder, and Sutton watched her mom carefully, trying to catch her reaction. For the first time in days, Sutton saw something she rarely ever did—her mother's face tighten with something close to fear. But just as quickly, it was gone. Gabriella turned back to the stove, a tight smile plastered across her face.

"Don't be ridiculous, Sutton," Gabriella said, her tone soft but firm, almost forced. "You're just imagining things. You're not sick like your father. We don't talk about that."

The finality in her voice left no room for argument, but Sutton felt the knot in her stomach tighten, a deep sense of unease flooding her chest. The way her mom had reacted—it wasn't normal. It wasn't the kind of response Sutton was used to. Gabriella wasn't one to show fear, and Sutton had never seen her get defensive in quite this way.

"Mom..." Sutton started again, her voice trembling slightly, but Gabriella quickly cut her off.

"Enough, Sutton," Gabriella snapped, her voice harder now. "You're not sick. You're just being dramatic. Go upstairs and lie down if you're feeling off, but don't make this more than it is."

Sutton flinched, feeling a cold wave of discomfort wash over her. She opened her mouth to argue, but the words got stuck. Her mother's demeanor had shifted so quickly—too quickly—and Sutton wasn't sure how to process it.

Instead, she stood up slowly, her coffee cup clutched tightly in her hands. Her mom was right. She was being dramatic, wasn't she? It wasn't like her dad. It couldn't be. She had to be imagining things.

As she made her way upstairs, her mind was heavy with doubt. Was she really just overreacting? Or was there something more to the dark thoughts that kept creeping up on her, no matter how hard she tried to ignore them?

When Sutton reached her room, she shut the door behind her and sat down on her bed. She stared out the window, watching the wind blow the trees outside, and tried to push away the overwhelming feeling that there was something more to this—something that she didn't understand. Something that scared her.

For the first time in a long time, Sutton wondered if her fears might not be so unfounded after all.

Sutton sat on the edge of her bed, still wrapped in her thoughts, when she heard a soft knock on the door. It opened slowly, and Zach stepped in, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced by a worried expression. He closed the door behind him, hesitating for a moment before walking over to sit next to her.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice carrying that note of concern that only surfaced when he really worried. "You alright?"

Sutton didn't look at him right away. Instead, she stared at the floor, the weight of her emotions pressing down harder than ever. She wasn't sure how to explain what she was feeling, or even if she wanted to. The last thing she wanted was to burden Zach with her spiraling thoughts, but the words just spilled out anyway.

"I'm not fine," Sutton said quietly, her voice wavering slightly. "I feel... off. I've been feeling like this for a while now, and I just... I don't know how to make it stop."

Zach's brow furrowed, and he scooted closer, his hand landing gently on her shoulder. "What do you mean, 'off'?" he asked, his tone gentle but insistent.

Sutton swallowed hard, feeling the lump in her throat. She thought about the conversation with Gabriella, how her mom had brushed off her concerns. It felt like everything was building up and threatening to overwhelm her, and now Zach was here, asking the questions she didn't even want to admit to herself.

"I don't know... it's like everything's blurry, you know? I get these feelings I can't shake. Like there's something wrong with me, but I can't put my finger on it. I'm scared... I think I'm like Dad."

Zach's expression softened, his hand tightening around her shoulder for a brief moment. He knew what she meant. The weight of their father's absence and the wreckage of his addiction had always hung heavy over their family. Sutton's voice faltered as she continued.

"I keep thinking about Dad. He was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, right? And I remember the way he used to get—up and down, like he was someone else. And then the drinking... the addiction. He just... left us, Zach. I don't want to end up like him."

Zach let out a long breath, his eyes drifting to the floor as if he were searching for the right words. "I know, Sutton," he said quietly. "I think about that too sometimes. About how he wasn't there, and how it screwed with all of us." He paused, glancing up at her, his eyes dark with the weight of shared memories. "But that's not you. You're not him."

Sutton shook her head, her eyes brimming with frustration. "But what if I am? What if I'm heading down the same path? What if I'm already there and I just can't see it yet?"

Zach's face tightened, his jaw clenching as he thought about the last time they had seen their father. It was during Eli's accident—an unexpected, unannounced appearance at the hospital, one that had caught them all off guard. Sutton had been in the emergency room with Eli, and the last person she expected to see was their estranged father, looking older, more weathered than she remembered.

He had stood there for a moment, silent, his eyes scanning the room like a stranger. Sutton had frozen, unsure of what to feel—anger, confusion, disappointment—before her mind shut it all out, not wanting to deal with the raw, unhealed wounds of their past.

"Yeah," Zach said, his voice tinged with frustration. "I remember that day. It was... strange, to see him there. He looked like he hadn't changed a bit, and yet so different at the same time." He paused, looking over at Sutton. "But he's not the one that defines us, okay? We're not him."

Sutton looked up at him, her eyes filled with doubt. "But how do we know that? I don't know how I'm supposed to be, Zach. I don't know what to do with this... feeling. This... darkness that feels like it's always there, even when everything's fine."

Zach's expression softened, and he leaned in, placing a hand on her knee. "Look, I don't have all the answers. Hell, I don't even know if I'm doing this right half the time. But I do know this: You're not alone. I'm here, and Mom's here, even if she doesn't know how to handle this stuff sometimes."

Sutton sniffled, feeling the weight of his words settle in her chest. She had always prided herself on being strong, on pushing through the mess of their family's past. But right now, she just felt... broken. Like a part of her that she couldn't fix.

"I just don't want to end up like him," Sutton whispered, her voice trembling. "I don't want to be the one that walks away, the one who... who leaves."

Zach exhaled slowly, giving her a small, reassuring smile. "You won't. You're not him, Sutton. You're not going anywhere."

Sutton felt a tear slip down her cheek, but she didn't wipe it away.

Zach noticed Sutton had been unusually quiet the entire day, her mind clearly elsewhere. As much as he wanted to help, he knew she had a lot going on, and sometimes, he felt like there wasn't much he could do. But tonight, he was determined to at least offer her a little distraction before he left for his internship.

"How about we hit the golf course tonight?" he suggested as he leaned against her doorframe, holding his keys. "Just a little night golf, you know? I can teach you how to drive the ball without embarrassing yourself." He smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

Sutton looked up from the bed, where she had been scrolling absently through her phone. The idea of going out to the golf course caught her off guard, but there was something about it that felt like the perfect, low-pressure way to spend the evening.

"Golf?" she raised an eyebrow, amused. "I thought you were all about that internship life right now."

Zach shrugged, a grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, well, tonight, it's about you. I figured we could go do something normal. No drama, no heavy conversations. Just a couple of shots in the dark."

Sutton hesitated, then gave a small nod. "Alright. Golf it is. But I'm warning you, I'm terrible at it."

Zach chuckled. "Hey, so am I. We'll call it even."

A few minutes or so later, Zach and Sutton were walking along the golf course, laughing and sharing easy conversation as they made their way toward the next hole. The evening air was perfect—cool and breezy, the sound of distant golf balls echoing as they landed on the greens. For the first time in a while, Sutton felt like she could breathe again.

"I gotta admit," Zach said, giving her a playful nudge, "I didn't think you'd actually make a decent shot. You're not terrible at this."

Sutton rolled her eyes, pretending to be offended. "Oh, now I'm not terrible? That's a low bar, Zach."

He grinned, but before he could tease her further, Sutton's eyes caught movement near the clubhouse. Standing off to the side, leaning against a cart, was Rafe. His posture was relaxed, but there was something in his gaze as he stared at them. His eyes were fixed on her.

Zach didn't notice right away, still looking at the hole ahead of them. "I'm telling you, Sutton, I think this game's all about the follow-through. You've got to commit to it."

Sutton's stomach twisted as Rafe's eyes locked on hers. She felt a familiar unease settle in her chest, like the quiet before a storm. She forced herself to look away and focus on her brother. "I'm not great with follow-through," she muttered, trying to keep the conversation moving. "I mean, with golf, or anything, really."

Zach finally noticed Rafe standing there. "Oh, hey, there's Rafe. He must've gotten here after we did," he said casually. "We should catch up with him. I haven't seen him in a bit."

Sutton's heart skipped a beat. She knew that Zach wouldn't pick up on the tension between her and Rafe—he never did. As far as he was concerned, Rafe was just a friend. Sutton had never been able to tell him the full story about what was going on between them, and maybe that was for the best. She didn't want to drag Zach into the mess that had become her relationship with Rafe.

"Yeah, sure," Sutton replied with a forced smile, even though her stomach churned. "Let's catch up with him."

They made their way toward Rafe, who straightened up when he saw them approaching. He was still wearing that smug, almost predatory look, and Sutton immediately felt her guard go up. Zach was oblivious, as usual, greeting Rafe with a slap on the back.

"Yo, man, didn't think I'd see you out here tonight," Zach said, grinning. "You golfing, or just here to mess with us?"

Rafe flashed a smile, his eyes flicking briefly to Sutton before settling back on Zach. "A little of both, I guess," he replied. "You know me, always down for some fun."

Zach laughed, completely unaware of the unspoken tension. "Well, I'm here to teach Sutton how to actually hit a ball without embarrassing herself. So, no pressure."

Sutton didn't respond, her attention caught on Rafe again, who had taken a few steps closer to her, leaning against the cart as he casually observed her. His gaze lingered a little too long, and Sutton felt that unsettling flutter in her chest that always seemed to happen when he was near.

"You look like you're in the zone," Rafe said, his voice low and smooth. His eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, as if he was enjoying the unease he caused her. "Golf's not exactly your thing, huh?"

Sutton forced a smile, trying to ignore the way his presence seemed to weigh on her. "I'm just here for the distraction," she replied flatly, her voice colder than she intended.

Zach, oblivious to the tension, clapped Rafe on the back. "I'll let you two catch up. I'm gonna grab us some drinks. Don't go too easy on her, Rafe. She might need the challenge." He wandered off to the nearby stand, leaving the two of them alone.

Sutton immediately felt the shift in the air, the way Rafe's eyes seemed to narrow as he looked at her. It was that same feeling she always got when he was around—like he knew more than he was letting on, like he was playing some game she didn't understand.

"What's up with you lately?" Rafe asked, his voice quieter now. "You've been a little... off. Acting like you're avoiding something. Me, maybe?"

Sutton's heart hammered in her chest. She wasn't ready for this conversation, not tonight, not when she was trying to escape the weight of everything that had been going on in her head. "I'm not avoiding anything," she said stiffly, her eyes avoiding his.

Rafe chuckled softly, his voice just a little too smooth. "You're a terrible liar, Sutton." He took a step closer to her, his body language relaxed, but his gaze intense. "I know when you're running from something. And I know when you're lying."

Sutton took a deep breath, her mind racing. This wasn't the time for this. She couldn't do this with him now. "I'm just here to have a good time, Rafe," she replied, her voice steady but her hands clenching around the club in her grip. "I'm not looking for drama."

He raised an eyebrow, a half-smile curling on his lips. "Drama's fun, though," he said softly, his tone teasing but with an edge to it. "And you're full of it, Sutton. I can see it in your eyes."

Sutton's stomach twisted, but before she could respond, Zach returned, holding a couple of drinks in his hand. He glanced between the two of them, completely unaware of the silent tension that had built in the moments they were alone.

"Alright, here we go," Zach said, handing Sutton her drink. "Let's make this round count. Ready to hit your next shot?"

Sutton nodded quickly, turning away from Rafe to focus on the next hole. She had to keep her composure. She wasn't going to let him get to her tonight. Not with Zach there, not with everything else weighing on her mind.

As they moved to the next hole, Sutton couldn't shake the feeling that Rafe wasn't just here for casual fun. Something was off, and she couldn't help but wonder what he was really after.

────

As they finished up their round of golf, Sutton was relieved to leave the green behind. The cool evening air felt nice against her skin, and she tried to push the unsettling thoughts of Rafe out of her mind. She followed Zach and Rafe into the club for dinner, trying to focus on the moment, the casual chatter between the two men, and the hope that maybe she could let herself relax for once.

They sat down at a corner table, cozy and private enough to be away from the rest of the crowd. Sutton was still in her golf attire—her skirt a little shorter than usual for comfort and movement, though she didn't mind it. After all, it was just a night out with her brother.

Zach quickly excused himself to go to the bathroom, leaving Sutton and Rafe at the table. The silence between them wasn't as comfortable as it should have been, and Sutton shifted in her seat, trying not to make eye contact. She focused on the menu in front of her, but her mind kept wandering back to the uneasy interaction they'd had earlier. She didn't want to deal with Rafe's games, but here she was, stuck with him again.

She reached for her fork to start eating, but just as her fingers brushed the handle, she dropped it.

"Great," she muttered under her breath, bending down to pick it up. But as she did, she felt a presence behind her. Rafe was standing just a little too close. She could feel his body press against hers, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. The proximity felt too intimate, too deliberate.

Before she could straighten up, she felt his breath on her ear—warm, deliberate.

"Careful, Sutton," Rafe's voice was low, his tone filled with that same playful smugness that always made her stomach twist. "Your golf skirt shows your whole ass when you bend down."

Sutton froze, her heart leaping into her throat. She stood up abruptly, her breath catching in her chest, but the discomfort still lingered in the air between them. She didn't even look at him, her eyes trained firmly on the table as she tried to regain some sense of control over her body.

"You're ridiculous," she managed to mutter, trying to keep her voice steady as she wiped her palms on her skirt.

Rafe didn't back off, still standing too close, watching her with that damn grin plastered on his face. "I'm just being honest," he said casually, as if it was no big deal. "Don't worry, though. It looks good on you."

Her heart pounded in her chest, and every instinct told her to push back, to snap at him, but something about his presence made her hesitate. She hated how he could always get under her skin like this—how easy it was for him to make her feel flustered and unsure.

Before she could respond, Zach reappeared, oblivious to the tension that had built in the seconds Rafe had been standing so close. He slid back into his seat, still smiling. "You two ready to eat? I'm starving."

Sutton nodded quickly, trying to shake off the discomfort. She could feel Rafe's eyes still on her, his smugness practically radiating from him. She wasn't sure what his game was, but she wasn't going to let him win. Not tonight.

She grabbed her fork, trying to focus on the food in front of her, but the lingering unease from Rafe's words still felt like a heavy weight on her chest. And, as much as she hated to admit it, she couldn't shake the feeling that he was playing some kind of game with her—a game she wasn't sure she wanted to be a part of.

Sutton tried to focus on her plate, taking small bites to mask the awkwardness that hung in the air. She could feel Rafe's gaze lingering on her, even though she refused to look up at him. His presence was like a constant shadow, making her skin itch with discomfort.

Zach, thankfully, was fully engaged in his meal, oblivious to the tension that had been building between the two of them. Sutton's mind raced, trying to think of ways to navigate the evening without letting Rafe get the upper hand. She didn't want to make a scene in front of Zach, especially not with his carefree attitude about everything.

But Rafe wasn't making it easy. Every time she tried to eat, she felt his eyes on her, weighing her down. It was maddening. The casual way he commented on her skirt earlier—the smug way he always made her feel like she was a puzzle he was determined to solve. She hated it.

Sutton cleared her throat, trying to focus. "So, Zach," she said, her voice deliberately light, "you're all packed for your internship?"

Zach glanced up from his plate, clearly happy to be on safer territory. "Yeah, pretty much. Just need to grab a few things tomorrow before I head out. I'm looking forward to it, actually." He smiled, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension.

"That's good," Sutton said, trying to sound enthusiastic. She looked up briefly at him, and then her eyes flicked to Rafe, who was still leaning back in his chair, his expression amused, like he knew exactly what she was thinking. It drove her insane.

Just when she thought she might be able to get through dinner without saying anything more, Rafe spoke up again, his voice dripping with teasing mockery.

"Zach, you've been telling Sutton you're leaving, but we both know you're gonna be back before long." His grin widened. "Everyone always comes back here, don't they, Sutton?"

Sutton tensed at the implication. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, her voice coming out sharper than she intended.

Rafe's smile didn't waver. "You know, this place. All these people. The whole game we play." He flicked his eyes between her and Zach, like it was some kind of unspoken truth between them.

Zach raised an eyebrow, sensing a change in the conversation but not quite catching the full meaning. "What game?" he asked, a little confused.

Sutton, however, wasn't in the mood to keep playing along. Her voice lowered as she turned to Rafe. "You don't know what you're talking about," she said, her tone tight with frustration.

Rafe leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing with amusement. "Maybe I do," he replied, his voice low, almost like a challenge.

Sutton gripped her fork a little too tightly, her mind whirling. She couldn't stand it anymore. She stood up abruptly, pushing her chair back with a little more force than necessary, and looked down at Zach. "I think I'll head out. You two can finish up," she said, her tone colder than she intended.

Zach frowned, looking up at her. "Sutton, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, forcing a smile, but there was no mistaking the tension in her voice. "I just need some air."

Rafe didn't say anything, but the flicker of amusement in his eyes never faded. He was watching her leave, and Sutton hated that she couldn't shake the feeling that he was enjoying this—whatever this was.

As she stepped outside into the night air, Sutton took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. The last thing she needed was to let Rafe get under her skin. But that was the problem, wasn't it? He always seemed to find a way to do just that.

She walked for a few minutes, trying to clear her head, the cool breeze doing little to wash away the feelings that were gnawing at her. What was it about him? Why did it feel like he could always find her weak spot? She didn't know the answer, but it was becoming clear that whatever game Rafe was playing with her, she wasn't ready to let him win.

────

A couple of days had passed since Zach left for his summer internship, and Sutton had been trying to focus on herself, using the quiet time to regroup. With him gone, the house felt emptier, quieter—almost too quiet. Olivia had been distant ever since her fight with Sarah, which had only added to the tension that seemed to be thick in the air. Sutton had been caught in the middle, as usual, and she didn't have the energy for any more family drama.

It was one of those hot, lazy afternoons when she found herself by the pool, Sarah lounging beside her, both of them taking refuge from the oppressive heat. They hadn't talked much lately, especially with everything that had gone down between Olivia and Sarah. But today, things felt different—calmer, like maybe they could have a conversation without it turning into a whole messy thing.

Sutton dipped her toes into the cool water, looking up at the sky for a moment before breaking the silence. "You know, I feel like my life has been nothing but family drama lately," she said, her tone lighter than she felt. "It's like every day there's some new fight, some new person pissed off at someone else."

Sarah chuckled dryly, adjusting her sunglasses. "Tell me about it. Rose has been in this weird mood, trying to play mom. She's been trying to 'fix things' with Olivia, and it's just... awkward." She sighed, leaning back against her towel. "Honestly, I don't even know where things stand with us anymore. Everything's just... annoying, you know?"

Sutton nodded, her fingers skimming the water as she spoke. "Yeah, I get it. My mom's been on this weird 'everything's fine' kick, but I can tell she's stressed. She's acting like nothing's wrong, but it's all over her face. And Olivia? God, she's impossible right now." Sutton rolled her eyes as she thought about her sister. "I think she's still pissed about Rafe, and now she's making everything even more complicated than it needs to be."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Wait, she's still hung up on him? What is her obsession with my brother."

She's been trying to 'fix things' with Olivia, and it's just... awkward." She sighed, leaning back against her towel. "Honestly, I don't even know where things stand with us anymore. Everything's just... annoying, you know?"

Sutton nodded, her fingers skimming the water as she spoke. "Yeah, I get it. My mom's been on this weird 'everything's fine' kick, but I can tell she's stressed. She's acting like nothing's wrong, but it's all over her face. And Olivia? God, she's impossible right now." Sutton rolled her eyes as she thought about her sister. "I think she's still pissed about Rafe, and now she's making everything even more complicated than it needs to be."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Wait, she's still hung up on him?

"Yeah," Sutton replied with a shrug. "It's like she can't let it go. She's been trying to act like it doesn't bother her, but I know it does. I just don't have the patience for it anymore. I'm not even sure what I'm supposed to do about it. I'm tired of being the but of her joke, you know?"

"Sounds like a nightmare," Sarah agreed, rolling onto her stomach and propping herself up on her elbows. "I mean, it's crazy. You're not responsible for anyone else's drama. You shouldn't have to keep fixing everything."

Sutton bit her lip, nodding. She hadn't been able to shake the feeling that she was always stuck in the middle of something. Whether it was her family's issues or her tangled feelings with Rafe, it felt like everything was just pulling her in different directions. "Yeah, but I can't help it. It's like I'm always trying to keep everyone happy, but it's never enough." She stared into the pool, her fingers tracing ripples in the water. "I just want some peace for once. No more drama, no more games. Just... quiet."

Sarah gave a small, understanding smile. "You deserve that, Sutton. We all do. But maybe you just need to stop trying so hard to fix everything for everyone else. Let them figure it out on their own. You can't carry all of that."

Sutton exhaled slowly, her mind heavy with everything Sarah had said. She wasn't sure she was ready to let go of the role she'd been playing in the family, but Sarah was right. Maybe it was time to stop trying to keep everything from falling apart.

"Maybe you're right," she said softly, her voice distant. "But it's hard, you know? I've always felt like I had to take care of everything—make sure my mom's okay, make sure Olivia doesn't lose her mind, make sure everyone's happy. I don't even know who I am when I'm not doing that."

Sarah sat up, her gaze softening. "You are allowed to be selfish sometimes, Sutton. You don't have to be the glue that holds everything together. You don't owe anyone that."

Sutton looked at her, a little surprised by the depth of Sarah's words. Maybe she was right. Maybe she had spent so much of her life trying to be the perfect daughter, sister, and friend that she'd forgotten who she really was. It was something Sutton had never really considered before.

"Thanks, Sarah," Sutton said, her voice quiet but sincere. "That means a lot."

Sarah grinned, a small but genuine smile. "Anytime. Just don't forget to take care of yourself, alright? You're more than just the fixer-upper of your family."

Sutton managed a small smile, feeling a bit lighter. It wasn't a complete fix, but it was a start. Maybe she could begin to step back a little—let her family sort themselves out, and focus on what she needed for a change. But first, she had to figure out what that even looked like. And with Rafe still lingering in the background, that was easier said than done.

As Sutton leaned back, feeling the weight of the conversation start to lift, Sarah's voice cut through the calm again.

"Hey, did you hear about the storm?" Sarah asked, glancing up at the sky as clouds began to gather. "I think it's supposed to hit tonight. Pretty big one, too."

Sutton followed Sarah's gaze, noticing how the sky had gone from clear to an ominous shade of gray in the span of just a few minutes. The air had that electric tension to it—the kind that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"I didn't hear anything about it," Sutton replied, suddenly feeling a shift in the atmosphere. "But yeah, it looks like it's gonna hit hard."

"Yeah, the weather apps are all saying it's going to be a big one," Sarah said, glancing over at Sutton. "You're welcome to crash at my place, you know. If you're not feeling like dealing with all that... family stuff tonight."

Sutton paused, the thought of a quiet night away from everything tempting. She had been wanting an escape from the tension at home. It felt like every corner of her life was getting louder, more chaotic. A night at Sarah's, with no family drama, no Rafe, no expectations—it almost sounded like a dream.

"Honestly? That sounds like exactly what I need," Sutton said, with a small but genuine smile. "I think a night of just... quiet would do me good."

Sarah smiled back, the offer sincere. "Good. It'll be just us. We can even binge some shows or something, if that's your vibe. Plus, if the storm really hits, it's gonna be a mess. We can just ride it out together."

Sutton nodded, feeling the weight of the world lighten a little at the thought. It was one of those rare moments where she felt like she could take a breath. No one needed anything from her. No one was expecting her to play a part. She could just be... herself, however that was starting to look.

"Alright, let's do it," Sutton agreed, pushing herself up from the edge of the pool. "I could use a break from all the chaos."

As they both started to gather their things, Sutton glanced up again at the sky. The storm was coming, sure. But maybe, for the first time in a long time, the storm brewing in her own life might be a little easier to handle with someone else by her side.

And as they headed inside to get ready for the night, Sutton found herself almost looking forward to the simplicity of just being with Sarah—free from everyone else's expectations.

────

The storm outside had intensified into a full-blown tempest, wind howling against the windows, rain slamming against the walls like it was trying to break through. The darkness in Sarah's house felt heavier with each passing second, amplified by the flashing lightning and the occasional roll of thunder that shook the floor beneath her.

Sutton had been lying on the couch next to Sarah for a while, the two of them trying to distract themselves from the storm by watching something mindless on TV. Sarah had fallen asleep halfway through, curled up in a blanket, her breathing slow and steady. But Sutton couldn't quite seem to settle. The anxiety that had been brewing in her chest for weeks, maybe months, was never far from the surface.

And now, with the storm making everything feel more intense, her mind started to race again. She stood up, trying to shake off the unease, and made her way toward the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

As she walked through the dark hallway, the house was eerily quiet, the storm outside drowning out all other sounds. It wasn't until she reached the cabinet for a flashlight that the power suddenly cut out, plunging the house into complete darkness.

"Great," Sutton muttered to herself. She fumbled around in the kitchen drawers, trying to find a flashlight, cursing under her breath as she searched.

Then, just as she thought she was about to give up, she heard footsteps.

A figure appeared in the hallway, illuminated only by the occasional flash of lightning. Sutton froze.

It was Rafe.

He was only half-dressed, weatpants hanging low on his hips. His hair was slightly damp from the storm, and he looked like he'd just woken up—his expression sharp, eyes glinting in the dim light. He didn't speak at first, just stood there, staring at Sutton, the tension between them thickening like a storm cloud.

Sutton's heart rate spiked. The sudden proximity of him, especially in such an intimate, unexpected setting, sent a shiver down her spine. Her pulse quickened, and she instinctively took a step back, feeling the weight of his gaze even in the darkness.

"What are you doing here?" Sutton asked, trying to sound confident, but her voice was quieter than usual, betraying the unease she felt.

Rafe didn't immediately answer. Instead, he just took another slow step toward her, his eyes never leaving hers. The air between them seemed charged, heavy with something unsaid. A low rumble of thunder echoed through the house, the only sound that filled the tense silence.

"You really thought I wouldn't be here?" he finally said, his voice low, almost teasing, like he was enjoying the way Sutton was reacting to him. "It's just a storm, Sutton. Not the apocalypse."

Sutton swallowed hard, feeling suddenly acutely aware of how close he was. His proximity made it hard to breathe, and his presence seemed to fill the entire hallway, leaving her no space to retreat. Her fingers tightened around the flashlight, and she finally found her voice.

"I don't know what you mean by that," she said quickly, her heart hammering in her chest.

Rafe chuckled softly, the sound almost predatory. He took another step, and Sutton didn't move, rooted to the spot as if frozen by the electricity in the air. She could feel his presence like a physical weight, pressing in on her.

"You always act like I don't know you," Rafe murmured, his voice still low, almost a whisper. "But I can see right through you, Sutton."

Sutton's stomach tightened. She wanted to say something, wanted to push him away, but she couldn't. The tension, the way he seemed to linger in her space, was suffocating.

Before she could gather her thoughts, the power flickered back on, casting a dim light over the hallway, but the strange, charged silence between them remained.

Rafe took another step, the space between them closing, and Sutton felt a wave of heat rise in her chest. She wanted to pull away, to escape, but she was frozen in place, caught in the intensity of the moment.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Rafe broke the silence.

"Maybe you should get some rest," he said, his voice almost gentle now, as if nothing had happened. "You look tired."

Sutton blinked, her breath unsteady, as if she'd just come up for air. "You should go back to bed, Rafe."

For a moment, it felt like he was going to push further, like he might say something else, do something else. But then, without another word, he turned and disappeared back down the hallway, leaving Sutton standing there, her heart still racing, the tension between them lingering in the air like a storm that hadn't quite passed.

She stayed there for a moment longer, trying to regain her composure. Finally, with a deep breath, she turned back toward the kitchen, trying to convince herself that everything was fine, that it had been nothing. But deep down, she knew that something had shifted between them—something that couldn't be undone.

Sutton stood in the dark kitchen, trying to steady her breath, her mind still reeling from the unsettling encounter with Rafe. She needed to do something—anything—to calm herself, so she reached for a glass in one of the cabinets, fingers blindly searching in the dark.

Her hands shook slightly, the adrenaline from the brief exchange with Rafe still coursing through her veins. The storm outside continued to rage, thunder cracking in the distance, lightning occasionally flashing through the windows. The power had come back on, but the house felt just as suffocating as it had moments ago.

She slid her hand along the smooth surface of the counter, hoping to find something familiar. But then, her fingers brushed against something sharp—glass.

Her breath hitched just before she felt the sting.

"Shit," she hissed, pulling her hand back instinctively. She could feel the blood begin to seep from the cut, but she couldn't even see how bad it was in the dim light.

"Shit," she repeated, her voice barely a whisper, as she tried to quickly find something to stop the bleeding. The glass had shattered—probably when she'd knocked it out of the cabinet earlier.

Her pulse quickened again, the physical pain joining the chaotic mix of emotions swirling in her chest. She fumbled for a cloth or napkin, trying not to panic, but the cut throbbed, and she felt lightheaded from the sudden rush of pain.

But then, before she could even grab something to stem the bleeding, she heard it—a loud footstep, then the sound of someone rushing toward her.

Rafe.

She hadn't heard him approach, but now, suddenly, there he was. His presence filled the doorway like a shadow, dark and looming.

"Sutton?" His voice was sharp, tinged with concern, as he stepped into the kitchen. The dim light from the living room cast a faint glow on his face, but it was enough for her to see the urgency in his eyes.

Sutton instinctively pulled her hand to her side, trying to hide it, but the blood was still dripping, pooling slightly around her fingers. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Instead, she just stood there, staring at him.

"Let me see," Rafe said, his voice insistent, softer than usual. He was closer now, his eyes scanning her face before dropping to her hand. "You're bleeding. What happened?"

She didn't know why, but she let him take her wrist gently, his fingers cool against her skin. The sting of his touch sent a fresh wave of discomfort through her, but she couldn't move away.

"I... I didn't see the glass," Sutton muttered, her voice shaky, her pride struggling against the vulnerability she felt. She winced as he took her hand, inspecting the cut more carefully.

"Yeah, I can see that," he said quietly, his gaze still fixed on her hand. "It's not that bad, but we should clean it up."

Sutton's breath caught in her throat, and she barely nodded, trying not to feel like she was losing control of everything, even something as simple as this. Her emotions were still a tangled mess after everything with her dad, the tension with her family, and now this—this weird, complicated thing with Rafe.

"You should sit down," Rafe said, his voice firm but gentle as he guided her to one of the kitchen chairs. "I'll get something to fix this."

Sutton didn't argue. The room seemed to spin slightly, and she let herself sink into the chair, still feeling disoriented from the mix of everything. Rafe moved to grab a first aid kit from one of the cabinets, his movements steady and precise, but Sutton couldn't help but notice the way his back was turned—how it made her feel like she was out of control, like she had no way of putting herself back together.

He returned moments later, his presence like a shadow looming at her side, and he carefully cleaned the cut, his touch surprisingly gentle. Sutton felt the weight of the moment settle around her, and as much as she tried to push it away, her emotions threatened to spill over.

"Why do you always show up when I don't want you to?" she muttered, her voice soft but filled with a mixture of frustration and something else—something she didn't quite want to name.

Rafe didn't respond immediately. Instead, he finished wrapping her hand with a bandage, his touch still lingering on her skin for a second too long. Then he stood up, meeting her gaze.

"I don't know, Sutton. Maybe it's because you're always pretending like you don't need anyone," he said quietly. His eyes searched hers, searching for something she wasn't ready to give him. "But you don't always have to do everything on your own."

Sutton swallowed hard, her heart fluttering for reasons she didn't understand. She wanted to say something snarky, something to push him away, but the words caught in her throat. It was hard to fight against the pull of his presence, even when everything about it felt wrong, and even when she knew she should be putting up walls.

Instead, she just nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"Thanks," she muttered, trying to regain some sense of control.

Rafe studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable, and then he straightened up, giving a small nod.

The air between them was thick, charged with something Sutton couldn't put her finger on. Rafe stood just a bit too close, his presence consuming the small kitchen. His hands had gently bandaged her cut, but there was an intimacy in the way he'd handled her wrist, his fingers brushing against her skin more than necessary. Sutton felt the electricity, the pull between them, a tension that had been building since they first crossed paths again.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The storm outside raged on, and the dim light from the kitchen cast shadows across their faces. Sutton could feel her heart pounding in her chest, a mix of nerves and confusion.

"You don't have to do this, you know," she muttered, trying to break the silence, though her voice came out quieter than intended. "I'm fine."

Rafe's eyes softened as he stepped closer, his gaze never leaving hers. "I know," he said in a low, almost hushed tone. "But you're not."

Sutton's breath hitched at his proximity. He was standing so close now that she could feel the warmth radiating off of him. The air felt thick, heavy with something unspoken, and Sutton was suddenly acutely aware of how fast her heart was beating, the way her pulse seemed to race every time he moved.

"You don't have to act like I'm invisible," Sutton whispered, her voice thick with frustration and something else—something raw. She swallowed hard, trying to regain some semblance of control. "I'm not some fragile little thing."

Rafe didn't answer right away. Instead, his gaze dropped to her lips, and for a brief moment, Sutton's breath caught in her throat. It felt like time had slowed down. Her heart skipped a beat. She couldn't tell if it was the storm, the vulnerability she was feeling, or something else entirely, but the world seemed to narrow down to just him, just the two of them standing in this kitchen.

"Never said you were," he finally murmured, his voice low and gravelly.

And before she could even react, Rafe leaned in, his hand brushing against her cheek, his touch warm, tentative. Sutton's breath caught again as their lips finally met, the kiss soft at first, testing, like he was waiting for her to pull away.

But Sutton didn't pull away.

Instead, she kissed him back, her heart racing as the kiss deepened, more urgent now, more desperate. Rafe's hand slid from her cheek to the back of her neck, his fingers threading through her hair. Sutton felt his body press against hers, his chest solid and warm against her own, his abs tensing slightly as she instinctively moved closer, drawn to him.

Her hand slid down his chest, fingers grazing the hard, defined muscles of his stomach, and she couldn't help the shiver that ran through her at the contact. It felt like everything inside her was coming alive, every nerve in her body singing with a mixture of need and confusion.

When they finally pulled away, both of them were breathing heavily, caught in the moment. Sutton's cheeks flushed with heat, her thoughts racing, and she realized just how fast everything had escalated.

Rafe looked at her, his gaze dark, his lips slightly parted. "You sure you're okay?" he asked, his voice rough, almost challenging.

Sutton didn't know how to answer that. She wasn't sure if she was okay. But right now, all she could focus on was the way her heart was beating too fast, the way her body felt both alive and disoriented. She looked at him, caught between wanting to push him away and wanting to pull him closer.

"I don't know what I'm doing," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

Rafe just nodded, like he understood. "Neither do I."

Sutton's breath caught as Rafe led her toward his room, the weight of his hand on her lower back sending sparks through her skin. She barely had time to process everything, feeling the heat of his lips against hers, the intensity of his touch, when something inside her snapped. She pulled away just enough to catch her breath, her heart pounding, the words tumbling out before she could stop them.

"You were just with a girl the other day," she said, voice unsteady as her eyes met his.

Rafe stopped walking, his lips curling into that infuriating, cocky smile. He leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear, and she felt his chest brush against hers.

"Jealous?" His voice was low, a teasing edge to it, and she could feel the smugness radiating off him.

Sutton's face flushed, but she couldn't find the words to deny it. She was, and it irked her that she couldn't hide it.

Rafe chuckled darkly, that confident gleam in his eyes. "We didn't do anything," he said, his hand slipping down to her waist, pulling her even closer. "I've been way too focused on someone else."

The words hit her like a punch to the gut, and she couldn't help the wave of frustration and confusion that swept over her. His fingers traced her skin, but the words kept swirling around in her mind. He was focused on someone else? The possessiveness flared inside her, and she hated it. But she hated how much she cared even more.

"Someone else?" she asked, trying to sound indifferent, though the question betrayed her.

Rafe's grin only deepened, his gaze never leaving hers. "You," he said simply, his hands sliding to the back of her neck, tugging her toward him again. "I've been focused on you. All I can think about is you."

The confession was so unexpected, so raw in the heat of the moment, that Sutton almost didn't know how to respond. She was still reeling from the emotional rollercoaster, but the pull between them was undeniable. He was pushing her to her limits, testing her resolve, and she was quickly losing control.

With a growl of frustration, Rafe captured her lips again, his kiss harder, more urgent now, as he pressed her back toward the bed. Sutton's mind raced, her heart hammered in her chest, but she couldn't bring herself to pull away.

This was it.

Sutton pulled away slightly, the uncertainty creeping into her voice as she sheepishly spoke. "I didn't... I didn't do anything with John B," she confessed, her gaze flickering to the floor as if the words were a weight she had to push out.

Rafe's smirk deepened, his eyes darkening with a mix of amusement and something more dangerous, more intense. He stepped closer to her, his hand brushing against her cheek as he tilted her chin up to meet his gaze.

"Good," he growled, his voice lowering to a dangerous pitch. "Because I'm gonna teach you how to do things the right way."

Sutton's breath hitched in her throat as his words sent a jolt through her body. The dominance in his tone, the intensity in his eyes, made her pulse race. She didn't know if she should run or if she should surrender, but everything in her screamed to stay.

He placed his hands on her waist, pulling her closer until her chest brushed against his. "You're not going to want anyone else after this," Rafe whispered, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke.

Sutton's heart raced, her thoughts clouded with the pull between them, the way he made her feel alive in ways she wasn't ready for. She didn't know what she was doing, but all she could think about in that moment was him.

Rafe's fingers tightened around her waist, his grip possessive as he whispered once more, "Let me show you how good it can be."

Sutton's body betrayed her, leaning into his touch, the conflict inside her only adding to the heat building between them. Her mind was a mess of uncertainty, but her body knew exactly what it wanted.

Sutton found herself tossed onto the bed, her hair cascading wildly across his pillows as she landed with a soft gasp. Before she could utter a single word, he swiftly removed his shirt, revealing a chiseled chest that sent her heart racing. In mere seconds, he was above her, his large hands bracing himself on either side, overshadowing her frame. His ocean-blue eyes steeled into hers, their depths filled with an insatiable hunger.

"You're killing me, Sutton," he murmured, leaning down to capture her lips in a heated kiss. Her fingers eagerly roamed over his sculpted torso, tracing every hard line of muscle, skimming across his warm skin. The moment she arched into him, a desperate need coursed through her body, craving every ounce of contact he could provide. His lips began to explore her neck, nipping and sucking, leaving behind faint marks that made her breath hitch.

With a swift motion, his hands slid under her top, yanking it off over her head, inciting a soft whimper to escape her lips. As he paused, his gaze swept over her, taking in her every curve—the way her body perfectly complemented his dominant presence. 

Leaning closer, he captured one of her sensitive nipples between his lips. She tugged him closer, nails digging into his shoulders, whispering breathlessly, "I need you."

His breath caught at the urgency in her voice, and his hands roamed down her sides as his lips danced across her chest. Each touch ignited a fire within her. 

"What do you want, Sutton?" he asked, his voice low and rough, barely above a whisper as if he were savoring a secret ingredient in a rich dish. The amusement dripped from his tone, mingling with something darker, more primal. She nodded eagerly, anticipation igniting her. "I'm going to teach you how good I can make you feel," he growled, his voice deepening, intoxicating her. He leaned back against the pillows, pulling her with him. "Get over here."

Pulse racing, she straddled his chest, her hands fixed on his broad shoulders as she hovered above him. His fingers began their ascent up her thighs, gently pulling aside the delicate lace of her damp panties. "Damn—you're soaking, babe," he murmured, his azure eyes locked on hers as they brimmed with mischief.

His hands seized her hips, anchoring her in place as he pressed kisses to her inner thighs, each caress eliciting waves of sensations that coursed through her entire being. She threw her head back, breathy moans escaping her lips at his teasing. But he wasted no time; his tongue flicked out, exploring her heated folds with delicious precision, leaving her gasping for air.

For balance, she gripped the headboard, her head tilting back in bliss as a soft cry broke from her lips, trembling as she succumbed to the pleasures he orchestrated. The world around them faded, leaving only the palpable connection between them—the fierce energy pulsing in the air, thrilling them both with the promise of what was yet to come.

────

Sutton pulled the blanket up over her shoulders, her skin still warm from the intensity of what had just happened. The silence in the room felt heavy, thick with the weight of unspoken words. Rafe's breathing was steady beside her, a rhythmic sound that somehow made everything feel quieter, softer.

But for Sutton, there was no quiet. Her mind was racing—thoughts tumbling over each other in a tangled mess. She wasn't sure how to process what had just happened.

She pulled herself up from the bed, heart beating a little faster as she tried to slip out from under the covers. She couldn't stay here. Not like this. Not when everything felt too confusing.

As she moved toward the edge of the bed, Rafe's arm shot out, catching her wrist with surprising strength.

"Where do you think you're going?" His voice was low, thick with that unshakable calm that always made her hesitate.

Sutton froze, her chest tightening. She didn't answer right away, staring at his hand on her wrist. She could feel his warmth, his fingers digging into her skin like an anchor. A part of her wanted to pull away, to regain control, but another part of her—one that she was only just beginning to understand—didn't want to leave. Not really.

"I... I just need some space," she muttered, her voice barely a whisper. "This... this is all too much. I need to go."

Rafe shifted, his grip loosening only for a moment before he tugged her back toward the bed. "No." His voice was firm now, the playful smirk from earlier gone. There was something more serious in his tone, something she hadn't heard from him in a long time.

Sutton's heart thudded in her chest as he guided her back down onto the bed, pulling the covers over her body and positioning himself beside her. His presence felt too close, too intense, but in a way that was oddly comforting.

"Shut up and sleep, Sutton," he said, his voice barely above a murmur. "You need rest more than you need to run off."

Sutton bit her lip, her thoughts fighting against the exhaustion settling into her bones. There was a tug-of-war happening inside of her, a battle between the overwhelming urge to get up and leave and the undeniable comfort that Rafe offered when he wasn't being his usual arrogant self.

But as she lay there, his hand resting just inches from hers, she couldn't deny how good it felt to just be still. To be... here.

With a soft sigh, she finally closed her eyes, her breathing slowing as Rafe's warmth enveloped her. "You don't have to do this," she whispered, but her voice was barely audible now.

Rafe didn't respond at first, his presence solid next to her. But then, he reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his touch unexpectedly gentle.

"I know," he murmured. "But sometimes, you just need someone to make the decision for you."

Sutton didn't know if he meant it in the way she thought, but she didn't have the energy to question it. Her mind was still racing, but the pull of sleep was stronger now, the warmth of the bed more inviting than the chaos of the world outside.