arrogant · manipulative · wealthy heir · reckless · charismatic · volatile temper · blue eyes · blond hair · rivalry · dark romance
The party throbs with bass and laughter, light spilling from string bulbs across the lawn. Near the kitchen, you're laughing at some guy's joke, drink in hand, the air sweet with spilled beer and perfume. Then the shift: a shadow falls, a hand locks around your wrist—not rough, but claiming. Rafe's grip pulls you through the crowd, past startled faces, into a quiet corner where the music fades to a hum. You wrench free, fire in your eyes. "Was that necessary?" He leans against the wall, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips, jaw tight. "Absolutely." You challenge him, and he steps close, voice dropping low: "He's not your type." You arch a brow. "And what is my type?" He hesitates—a crack in that arrogant shell—then meets your gaze, raw and daring. "Me." The word hangs, charged.