Page 16 of Rafi

“I’m observant,” she counters, narrowing her eyes. “Your lipstick’s smudged, by the way. And your hair?—”

I smooth a hand over my hair instinctively, cursing under my breath when I find a stray curl out of place. Cassie’s grin turns predatory.

“Spill, Tay. Who was it?”

“Who was what?”

“Who was it?” she repeats, and she knows I’m not ignorant to what she’s talking about.

“No one,” I say quickly, maybe a little too quickly.

Cassie’s laugh is sharp, like a knife sliding between ribs. “No one, my ass. Oh, wait—” She suddenly leans forward, her eyes darting toward the direction I came from. My stomach drops when I follow her gaze.

Rafi.

Of course. He’s making his way back toward the bar, calm and collected, his shirt tucked in neatly like he hasn’t just wrecked my world in a nightclub bathroom. His dark eyes sweep the room, and for the briefest moment, they land on me. A flicker of something—heat, possession—passes between us before he looks away.

Cassie gasps, slapping a hand over her mouth, her eyes lighting up like it’s Christmas morning. “Oh. My. God.”

I groan, sinking lower into my chair. “Cassie?—”

“RafifreakingGatti? Are you serious right now? You and him?”Her voice rises with every word, and I’m tempted to shove a napkin into her mouth.

“Keep your voice down,” I hiss, glancing around to make sure no one’s paying attention.

But Cassie’s too far gone. She’s practically vibrating with excitement. “This is unreal. Do you have any idea how many girls would kill to be in your position? He’s, like, the hottest guy in this club. Hell, in this whole city.”

“I don’t need the commentary,” I snap, my cheeks burning.

She leans closer, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “So, what was he like? Was that thing about him being the stuff of legends accurate? Because, girl, you’re glowing.”

I bury my face in my hands, wishing the floor would swallow me whole. “Can we not do this right now?”

Cassie chuckles, sitting back but not letting up. “Fine, fine. I’ll back off… for now. But you owe me details later. All of them.”

I glare at her, but it lacks heat. She knows me too well, and I know she’s not going to let this go.

Across the room, Rafi settles at the bar, ordering a drink like nothing’s out of the ordinary. But I can still feel him, a magnetic pull that refuses to let me go.

Cassie follows my gaze, her grin turning smug. “You’re in so much trouble,” she sings, tapping her fingers against her glass. “And by that, I don’t just mean the kind of trouble where you lose your heart.”

She tilts her chin toward the bar, nodding in Rafi’s direction. “Look at lover boy over there,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with mischief.

I follow her gaze and immediately regret it. A woman slides onto the stool beside him, her dress painted on, her smile too eager. Rafi doesn’t hesitate. His hand lands on her waist, a deliberate move that feels far too familiar. My stomach twists as he leans in, whispering something in her ear.

The sight ignites something feral inside me—hot, sharp, and utterly unwelcome. Possessiveness? Envy? I can’t pin it down, but it’s there, clawing at my insides, making my skin burn.

Barely fifteen minutes ago, his hands were on me. His mouth. His everything. And now? Now he’s touching someone else like I was just a passing moment.

The woman tilts her head back, laughing lightly, her body language coy. But her demeanor shifts in an instant whenhe says something to her. The smile fades. Her eyes narrow, and her face flushes an angry red. She pushes his hand away and snaps something at him before hopping off her stool. With sharp, purposeful steps, she storms off, her heels clicking against the floor, leaving Rafi behind without so much as a glance back.

I’m still staring when Rafi looks over his shoulder, catching my glare. His mouth curves into a grin, a devilish one that’s equal parts taunting and triumphant. My pulse spikes as he holds my gaze for what feels like forever, the moment stretching between us like a live wire. And then, as if to drive the knife deeper, he winks.

I realize I’ve been holding my breath and exhale sharply. Turning back to Cassie, I hope she hasn’t picked up on the inferno raging behind my carefully crafted mask.

But, of course, she has.

She’s perched on the edge of her seat, her face lit with pure amusement. She shakes her head, her glossy curls bouncing, and lets out a snort so unladylike it draws a side-eye from the next table. “Girrrrrl,”she drawls, biting back her laughter, “you are so, so fucked, it’s not even funny.”

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