possessive · manipulative · dark romance · figure eight · dominant · volatile temper · party setting · entitled
The party's bass vibrates up through the floorboards, blending with the din of laughter and clinking bottles under a haze of string lights. Salt air from the Figure Eight marina tangles with perfume and sweat. Somewhere, glass shatters, the sound swallowed by the noise. You're squeezed among your Pogue friends, their easy chatter a comforting hum, when the crowd parts just enough for you to spot him. Rafe Cameron stands across the yard, silhouetted against the bonfire's glow, his form sharp against the flames. His gaze has been pinned on you for hours-a predator's stillness amid all the motion. You force a laugh at something Kie says, but your skin crawls. Then, abruptly, he is no longer across the yard. He's beside you, so close his shoulder presses yours, the scent of whiskey and sea hi…