When Allison returned from the beach, the first pale light of dawn had begun to creep across the horizon. Her limbs ached from surfing, and the chill of the early morning air clung to her skin, but her heart thrummed with the heady mix of exhaustion and joy. She tiptoed through the front door, every creak of the floorboards beneath her feet setting her nerves on edge as she prayed not to wake anyone. Slipping into her room, she collapsed onto the bed, a contented smile playing on her lips as sleep quickly pulled her under.
It was past noon when Allison finally stirred, the harsh light of day filtering through the curtains, reminding her of the late hour. After a long, hot shower, she felt somewhat revived.
Descending the stairs, she was greeted by the sound of raised voices coming from the living room. Her steps faltered as words like "arrested" and "bad influence" caught her attention. She lingered in the hallway, her curiosity piqued, but the desire to avoid confrontation became stronger. Slipping into the kitchen, she hoped to go unnoticed, but that hope was quickly dashed.
"Allison, come here this instant," Anna's voice rang out, sharp and commanding. It sliced through the air like a knife, sending a shiver down Allison's spine.
She sighed, the illusion of avoiding conflict shattered, and she peeked through the doorway with a forced smile. "Good morning."
"Where have you been the whole night?" Anna demanded, her tone laced with accusation, the underlying tension palpable.
"Out," Allison replied curtly, her patience already wearing thin. She wasn't in the mood for an interrogation, not after the night she had.
"This is the second night you've been out all night, and you're only here for three days." Anna's frustration bubbled over, the words laced with a mixture of concern and irritation.
Allison rolled her eyes, her hand gripping the edge of the countertop as she forced herself to remain calm. "So? I can't hang out with people?"
"The problem is who you hang out with." Anna's voice took on a sterner edge, her eyes narrowing. "You know why your parents sent you to boarding school. And if Kie continues to follow in your footsteps, she will be too."
"What?" Kie's voice, filled with indignation, cut through the tension. "I haven't done anything bad! I even went to Kook Academy because you wanted me to!"
Mike's voice joined in, disappointment heavy in his tone. "You've been arrested."
"Well, at least that didn't happen to me," Allison shot back, the words slipping out before she could stop them. She turned to leave, her hand already on her keys.
"You should be a better example for your sister," Anna scolded, her voice rising with frustration.
"Yeah, whatever," Allison muttered under her breath, grabbing her keys and heading for the door. The last thing she heard was the sound of it slamming shut behind her, cutting off Anna's voice mid-sentence.
RAFE'S P.O.V:
The sun shone brightly, casting long shadows across the pristine golf course as Rafe and Topper played their game. But Rafe's attention wasn't on his swing; it was on the girl standing by the edge of the course, her posture stiff as if she were waiting for someone.
"Who is she?" Rafe asked, nodding toward her, his curiosity piqued.
"I don't know, man, but I saw her at the kegger party with the Pogues," Topper replied, his eyes still on his golf ball, not bothering to look at the girl more closely.
"No way, man. She doesn't look like a Pogue." Rafe's eyes narrowed as he took in her appearance.
The baby-pink plaid skirt and white collared crop top she wore were too pristine, too polished to belong to someone from the wrong side of the island. Her white golf cap and ponytail completed the look, along with white knee-high socks with baby-pink stripes and spotless white sneakers.
"Maybe she works here," Topper suggested offhandedly, his focus entirely on the game.
"Her outfit says otherwise," Rafe muttered, his gaze lingering on her.
Just then, he noticed Pope carrying a box of beers and several bags of food. The sight of the Pogue on the golf course, of all places, made his blood boil. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," he added, nudging Topper to get his attention.
Topper finally looked up, following Rafe's gaze to where Pope stood. "I don't think he's a member. Do you?"
"Let's, uh... let's go get your ball. Come on." Topper tried to steer Rafe away, sensing trouble brewing.
But Rafe wasn't about to let it go. "They put a gun to your head, bro." His voice was low, simmering with anger, as he pressed his golf club to his chin, contemplating his next move.
"Hey, Rafe. Rafe!" Topper called out as Rafe started walking toward Pope, trying to pull him back. "Let's get your ball, man."
But Rafe wasn't listening. His strides were purposeful, his anger fueling each step. "Hey, what's up?" he called out to Pope, who looked up, his expression wary.
When Pope didn't respond, Rafe repeated himself, his voice more insistent, "Hey, how much for one of those beers?"
"They're not for sale," Pope replied, his voice cautious as he tried to move past them.
Rafe blocked his path, his hand pressing against Pope's chest to stop him. "Oh, wait, wait, wait. You can just give us one, then, right?"
"Or you can order one, like everybody else," Pope retorted, trying to keep his cool despite the tension in the air. He tried to push past Rafe, but the Kook's arm shot out again, stopping him.
"Listen. Wait, wait, wait. You're not listening to me. Um... You've got so many, bro, and we've got nothing." Rafe's tone was deceptively calm, but his eyes were sharp, and calculating.
"Nothin'," Topper echoed, trying to back up his friend.
"They're not mine," Pope argued, his voice firm. "They're already paid for."
Rafe's expression darkened as he shoved his golf club into Pope's bag, ripping it open and spilling its contents onto the ground. "Already paid for? What the hell? You probably stole 'em, right?"
Pope's eyes flashed with anger as he yelled, "What the hell? You owe me for that."
Rafe stepped closer, his face inches from Pope's, his voice low and menacing. "Dude, I don't owe you shit, Pogue."
"Buy your own shit!" Pope snapped, shoving Rafe back, his patience finally snapping.
"Hey. Come on, man!" Topper interjected, reaching for the beers in Pope's hands, "We just want one of these beers! Just give us one of these..."
"You guys are freaking crazy!" Pope shouted.
Topper grabbed one of the beers from Pope's hands, the force of the tug sending Pope sprawling to the ground, his head hitting a rock with a sickening thud.
As Pope charged at him, anger blazing in his eyes, Rafe swung his golf club with all his might, the metal connecting with Pope's back with a sickening crack, sending him crashing to the ground.
"Stay down, bitch!" Rafe roared, his voice filled with a primal rage that shook the air around them.
Allison, having noticed the commotion from a distance, ran toward them, her heart pounding in her chest. "Hey, stop!" she yelled, her voice high-pitched with fear, "What the hell?"
Rafe barely glanced at her as he grinned, his eyes still locked on Pope.
"I told you, man, she is with the Pogues," Topper said to Rafe, loud enough for Allison to hear.
Allison placed her golf club against Rafe's chest, trying to push him away. "Leave him alone," she demanded, her voice trembling but firm.
Rafe looked down at her, intrigued by her defiance. "Pogues are not allowed on this side of the island," he argued as if the mere fact made his actions justified.
"Says who? You?" Allison shot back, her eyes blazing with anger. "And yeah, I did hang out with them at the party and saw you beating the shit out of John B."
Rafe's grin widened as he laughed, a dark, hollow sound. "So you saw a Pogue put a gun to his head?"
"I saw that Pope didn't do it. So why go after him?" Allison's voice was sharp, cutting through the tension.
"They are all the same to me," Rafe replied with a shrug, his tone indifferent, as if people were nothing more than objects to him.
"You're a jerk," Allison spat out, her words laced with venom.
"And you are?" Rafe asked, his curiosity piqued by the fire in her eyes.
Allison rolled her eyes, her patience wearing thin. "Wow, that was smooth, but I won't tell you."
"Your loss," Rafe said.
He let out a loud yell, throwing his club down next to Pope's head with a force that made Allison flinch.
"Are you crazy?!" Allison screamed, her voice shrill with fear and anger.
Rafe knelt next to Pope, his expression devoid of any remorse as he tapped Pope's cheek lightly with his fingers, the gesture almost mocking. "We don't want you here. Got that?"
Pope's eyes were glassy with pain, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he tried to nod. But before he could respond, Allison stepped forward, her hands trembling as she placed them on Rafe's arm, trying to pull him away.
"Just let him go," she pleaded, her voice cracking under the weight of her fear that they would hurt Pope further. She had noticed the blood at the corner of Pope's mouth, the sight making her stomach churn.
Rafe stood up slowly, his eyes flicking back to Allison. There was something dark in his gaze, something that made her skin crawl. "Stay off Figure Eight, Pogue," he warned, his voice low and menacing. Then, turning his attention back to Allison, he added with a smirk, "You should know better than to stand up for Pogues."
"Fuck you!" Allison hissed, her voice shaking with anger and adrenaline.
Rafe's smirk widened into a devilish grin. "When?"
Allison felt a wave of disgust rise in her, her hands balling into fists at her sides as she glared at him. "You're pathetic," she spat, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and fear.
But Rafe just laughed, the sound cold and heartless as it echoed across the golf course. He turned to walk away, motioning for Topper to follow him, leaving Allison standing there with Pope, the tension still thick in the air.
When they were finally out of earshot, Allison knelt beside Pope, her heart aching at the sight of him battered and bruised. "Do you want me to call Jordan or someone?" she asked softly, her voice laced with concern as she handed him some tissues to clean up the blood.
Pope shook his head slowly, wincing as the movement sent a jolt of pain through his body. "No, don't tell anyone this happened. Promise me."
"But—"
"Please, promise me," Pope insisted, his voice desperate, his eyes pleading with her.
Allison sighed, her heart heavy as she reluctantly agreed. "Okay, fine. I promise."
She helped him to his feet, her hands gentle as she steadied him, and together they made their way to the edge of the golf course. When Pope finally left, Allison remained standing there, her mind swirling with thoughts. Rafe had pissed her off more than anyone had in a long time. There was something about him, something that crawled under her skin and made her blood boil. He was arrogant, entitled, and dangerous—a deadly combination that both intrigued and repelled her.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of Jessica walking toward her, waving cheerfully. She also wore a golfing outfit, her smile bright and carefree, completely oblivious to the turmoil Allison was feeling.
"Let's just go eat," Allison said abruptly, her voice lacking its usual warmth.
Jessica frowned slightly, noticing the shift in Allison's mood. "Aren't we going to play?" she asked, her tone puzzled.
"I'm kinda hungry. Maybe later," Allison replied shortly, trying to push the encounter with Rafe out of her mind.
Jessica hesitated for a moment, her eyes searching Allison's face for clues to what had happened, but when she found none, she let it go. "Oh, okay, let's go," she agreed, linking her arm with Allison's as they walked back to the Country Club.
They found a table, the air heavy with the remnants of Allison's unease.
As they sat down, Jessica handed Allison a gift bag she had been carrying, her expression brightening again. "I got something for you," she said with a smile.
"What is it?" Allison asked, taking the bag with a hint of curiosity.
"Open it," Jessica urged, her excitement contagious.
Allison smiled as she pulled out a black two-piece bathing suit, her eyes widening in surprise. "Wow. What is this for?"
"I knew you would like it," Jessica said, her smile widening. "I decided to throw a little welcome party for you on my yacht tonight."
"Really?" Allison asked, her earlier irritation beginning to fade as excitement took its place.
"Yeah, only some of our close friends are invited," Jessica explained. "I want you to meet them all."
"Okay, I'm in. I can't say no to a party," Allison chuckled, her mood lightening.
"And to the boys. You need to meet some and have some fun," Jessica added with a playful wink.
"Well..." Allison hesitated, memories of last night flashing in her mind. "I kinda did have fun last night."
"Seriously? Who was it? Do I know him?" Jessica asked eagerly, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"His name is Jordan," Allison told her, trying to keep her tone casual.
"Jordan Davis? The Pogue?" Jessica's expression faltered, a hint of distaste creeping into her voice.
"Yeah, why are you saying it like that?" Allison asked, frowning at her friend's reaction.
Jessica shrugged, her smile returning, but it didn't reach her eyes. "You can do better than a Pogue. You'll forget about him as soon as you meet the Kooks."
Allison rolled her eyes, her earlier irritation beginning to creep back in. "If they're anything like that jerk Rafe, I'll pass."
"When did you meet Rafe?" Jessica asked, her surprise evident.
Allison sighed, the memory still fresh in her mind. "I saw him beating the shit out of Pope with a golf club a few minutes before you came."
Jessica's eyes widened in shock. "You stopped him from beating a Pogue?"
"Yeah, I did," Allison confirmed, her voice firm. "Why does he think he can do that?"
Jessica shook her head, her expression turning serious. "The rivalry between Kooks and Pogues has always existed. They always fight each other. And Rafe is a Kook king with a temper, so he gets into fights more often than others."
"A Kook king?" Allison repeated, raising an eyebrow in skepticism.
"Yeah, he's basically the most popular around here. Every girl wants to be with him, at least for a night," Jessica explained, her tone matter-of-fact.
Allison arched an eyebrow in curiosity, her voice laced with sarcasm. "So you want that too?"
Jessica laughed, shaking her head. "No, I've been with Brandon for four years. I would never be with someone else."
Allison couldn't help but feel a pang of envy at Jessica's words, her tone turning wistful. "That must be nice."
"It is. It worked out really well for us," Jessica said with a warm smile, her eyes softening. "What about you? Did you break any hearts before you came here?"
Allison laughed, "Three hearts actually."
Jessica's eyes widened in surprise. "At the same time?"
Allison nodded, a smirk playing on her lips. "Yup. I don't do relationships. It's not my fault they get attached."
・ • ・ • ・
As the evening crept in, Allison prepared for the party, slipping into the bikini Jessica had bought for her. She pulled on a sheer, oversized t-shirt over it, the soft fabric brushing against her skin as she admired her reflection in the mirror. There was an undeniable excitement bubbling inside her as she left for Jessica's house, her anticipation growing with each step.
When she arrived, the yacht was already buzzing with life. People were chatting, and laughing, and the air was filled with the sound of music and the smell of the ocean. Jessica greeted her with a warm smile, quickly introducing her to all of her friends. Allison found herself relaxing, her earlier tension melting away as she mingled with the group.
She was in the middle of a conversation with two girls when her smile faltered. Rafe stepped onto the yacht, his presence instantly shifting the atmosphere for her, the memories of their earlier encounter flooding back, filling her with a mixture of dread and anger.
"What the hell is he doing here?" Allison muttered under her breath, tapping Jessica's shoulder.
Jessica turned to see Rafe, her expression casual as she replied, "Brandon is good friends with him. They went to high school together."
Allison's eyes narrowed, her voice laced with irritation. "You didn't tell me he was coming."
Jessica shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. "Relax, Allison. He's not as bad as you think."
Allison felt a surge of frustration bubbling up inside her, but she forced herself to stay calm.
"Who's not as bad?" Rafe's voice suddenly cut in, making her tense. He had appeared behind her, his presence looming over her like a dark cloud.
Jessica smiled at him, turning Allison to face him. "You. You didn't leave a good first impression on her."
Rafe's eyes locked onto Allison's, a slow, confident smile spreading across his face. "Maybe I'll leave a better second one," he said with a wink.
Allison crossed her arms, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Good luck with that."
Before Rafe could respond, Jessica changed the subject, asking, "Did you bring what I asked?"
Rafe reached into his pocket, pulling out a small bag with white powder and handing it to Jessica. "Yup," he replied casually.
Allison's eyes narrowed, her voice icy as she asked, "So he's your drug dealer?"
Jessica laughed, shaking her head. "No, but he gets supplies when we need them."
"Coke?" Allison asked, eyeing the bag with a mixture of curiosity and wariness.
"Yeah. You want some?" Jessica offered, her tone casual, as if she were offering Allison a piece of candy rather than a line of cocaine.
Allison hesitated for a moment, her thoughts racing. Part of her was tempted—curiosity and the desire to fit in with Jessica's crowd pulling at her. But another part of her felt a lingering unease, a sense that diving deeper into this world might lead to a place she wasn't sure she wanted to go again. Still, she forced herself to shrug off the hesitation, masking her uncertainty with a cool indifference. "Sure, why not," she replied, her tone nonchalant.
"Okay, let me make lines for you girls," Rafe said, moving to sit at a nearby table, his hand brushing lightly against Allison's waist as he tried to move her aside.
Allison reacted instinctively, slapping his hand away, her voice sharp. "Don't touch my waist."
Rafe chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Shit. Sorry," he said, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Can I make you a line, then?"
Allison shot him a challenging look, crossing her arms. "You think I can't do that myself?"
"I don't know," Rafe shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips as he sat down, spreading the contents of the bag on the table. "Have you ever done cocaine?"
"Of course I have," Allison replied defiantly, though the truth was that she had only tried it once before. And it didn't end well for her.
Rafe watched her with a mixture of amusement and curiosity, his smirk widening as he handed her a credit card to make the lines. Allison took it from him, her movements quick and deliberate as she crafted a line, determined to prove herself.
Rafe's eyes narrowed, intrigued by the way she handled herself. There was something about this new girl, something different, something that piqued his curiosity. He could see the defiance in her eyes, the way she refused to back down, and it intrigued him. He knew he needed to play this right if he wanted to leave a good impression—slowly, carefully, without pushing too hard.
As Allison bent down to snort the line, Rafe's gaze lingered on her, his mind racing with thoughts of how to get closer to her, how to break through that wall she kept so carefully constructed. He wasn't used to girls like Allison, girls who didn't fall for his charm immediately, and it made him want to try even harder.
The coke hit Allison almost immediately, the familiar rush flooding her senses, dulling the edges of her anxiety and heightening her awareness of everything around her. The tension in her muscles eased, and a feeling of euphoria began to wash over her, blurring the sharp edges of her thoughts.
She noticed Rafe's eyes on her, a calculating look in them. But before she could dwell on it, she decided to head toward the jacuzzi, where Oliver and Emily were already making out, their bodies entwined in the bubbling water. Allison sank into the hot water, her back against the side, letting the warmth soak into her muscles. She closed her eyes, trying to relax and let the drugs take over.
Rafe, seeing her alone, took it as his cue to approach. He moved quietly, slipping behind her in the water and placing his hands on her shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze.
Allison's eyes snapped open, her body tensing. But Rafe's hands didn't move. "Relax, it's just me," Rafe said softly, his voice low and smooth.
"Oh, is that supposed to make me feel relaxed?" Allison replied, raising an eyebrow as she turned her head slightly to look at him.
Rafe smirked, his fingers kneading into the tight muscles of her shoulders. "Yeah, and I give a really good massage."
Allison shook his hands off her shoulders, her tone dismissive. "Probably not better than a professional."
"Wanna bet on it, princess?" Rafe challenged his tone playful, a teasing edge to his voice.
"No," Allison replied curtly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of winning even a small victory.
"Afraid you'll lose?" Rafe teased, sliding into the water beside her, his presence looming close, the space between them charged with an undercurrent of tension.
Allison didn't respond, choosing instead to rise from the water. The cold air hit her wet skin, but the rush of the cocaine and the heat from the jacuzzi kept her from feeling it too keenly. Rafe watched her, admiring her figure as he made her way to the table where the drugs and alcohol were laid out. She quickly made herself one more line, snorting it with a practiced hand and followed it with three shots of tequila. The burn of the alcohol was a welcome distraction, a grounding force in the midst of her swirling thoughts.
When she returned to the jacuzzi, Rafe was deep in conversation with Oliver, holding a bottle of vodka in his hand. He noticed her as she slipped back into the water, and without missing a beat, he handed her the bottle, offering her a drink.
Allison shook her head, her voice firm. "No, I just had three shots."
"Oh, really?" Rafe asked, his tone probing, curious. "What for?"
"What do you mean, 'what for'?" Allison replied, confused by his question.
"Do you need to be drunk to be close to me?" Rafe asked, his voice playful yet probing, trying to get under her skin.
Allison scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Not everything is about you, Kook king."
Rafe was surprised she already knew his nickname, but he quickly recovered, a smirk playing on his lips. "Or maybe it is, princess."
Allison turned her gaze away from him, looking up at the night sky instead. The stars and the moon above were a beautiful sight, the drugs making the scene feel surreal, almost magical. She let out a sigh, trying to lose herself in the moment, to forget about the tension simmering between her and Rafe.
After a few minutes, Rafe took the opportunity to slide his arm around her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. This time, Allison didn't shrug him off. Emboldened, Rafe began to massage her left shoulder, his fingers digging into the knots of tension he found there. Despite herself, Allison closed her eyes, a small sigh escaping her lips as she felt the pleasure-pain of his touch.
"Your shoulder is so tense," Rafe remarked quietly, his voice close to her ear.
"I didn't sleep well last night," Allison replied, her words slurred slightly from the mix of alcohol and drugs. She groaned as Rafe found a particularly sore spot, her head falling forward as she let him work out the tension.
Rafe smirked at the sound, enjoying the way she was finally letting her guard down, even if just a little. He shifted his position, and Allison followed suit, resting her arms on the edge of the jacuzzi and her head on them. Rafe continued to massage both her shoulders, his touch firm yet gentle, his movements slow and deliberate.
"Does it feel good?" Rafe asked, his breath hot against her ear, his voice soft, almost intimate.
"Mhm," Allison hummed, her eyes closed, enjoying the sensation despite herself. But she wasn't ready to fully let her guard down, not with him. "Just don't get any ideas."
"What do you mean?" Rafe asked, feigning innocence, though he knew exactly what she was getting at.
"You know, like trying to hook up with me too. I saw you making out with Nicole," Allison said, her tone matter-of-fact, though there was a hint of accusation in it.
Rafe chuckled, the sound low and smooth. "So I can't hook up with multiple girls in one night?"
"Not if I'm the second choice," Allison replied, her voice firm. "I'm sure you can find someone else who's willing."
"Maybe I'm not interested in someone else," Rafe said softly, his tone taking on a more serious edge as he continued massaging her shoulders, his fingers tracing the lines of her neck with a gentle touch.
Allison didn't respond, choosing instead to enjoy the massage in silence. Rafe's hands were skilled, and despite her earlier reservations, she couldn't deny how good it felt. The tension in her muscles gradually eased under his touch, the combination of the drugs, the alcohol, and the hot water making her feel almost weightless like she was floating on a cloud.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Allison finally broke it with a question that had been lingering in the back of her mind. "Why did you do it?"
Rafe's hands slowed, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Do what?"
"Beat the shit out of Pope?" Allison clarified, her voice quiet, almost hesitant.
Rafe tensed behind her, his hands coming to a stop on her shoulders. His voice was defensive, almost cold as he replied, "Pogues put a gun to my best friend's head. I just want to protect my friends."
There was a moment of silence, the air heavy with unspoken tension, before Rafe's hands resumed their movement, but the gentleness from before was gone. He seemed more focused, almost mechanical in his motions. Allison could sense the shift in his mood.
"Why do you hang around them?" Rafe asked, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity. His hands had resumed their steady, almost methodical motions, but the tension between them remained thick in the air.
Allison shifted slightly, considering how much she wanted to reveal. "I don't know. Kie hangs with them, so I met them when I came here, and they were nice," she finally answered, her tone nonchalant, but there was an undercurrent of defensiveness.
"Kie?" Rafe echoed, surprise flickering in his voice. "How do you know Kie?"
"She's my sister," Allison replied, leaning forward slightly to take a sip from the bottle of vodka that Rafe had handed her earlier. The burn of the alcohol was a welcome distraction from the intensity of the conversation.
Rafe's hands stilled on her shoulders, the revelation catching him off guard. "I didn't know Kie had a sister."
Allison shrugged, feeling the heat from the alcohol and the drugs dull her inhibitions. "Why would you? I don't think Kie and you are besties."
Rafe chuckled softly, the sound tinged with something unreadable. "Well, she was friends with my sister, so I also know her."
Allison nodded but didn't respond. She let the silence settle between them, the hum of the jacuzzi jets filling the space as she tried to process the conflicting emotions swirling inside her. Rafe was a complicated puzzle, one she wasn't sure she wanted to solve, but she couldn't deny the pull she felt toward him. It was dangerous, reckless even, but there was something about the way he looked at her, the way he challenged her, that intrigued her in a way she hadn't expected.
Rafe's hands eventually drifted from her shoulders, and he settled into a more relaxed position beside her, his arm draped casually across the edge of the jacuzzi. Allison found herself leaning back, her head resting against the side as she let her thoughts drift. The warmth of the water, combined with the effects of the drugs and alcohol, made her feel drowsy, her eyelids growing heavy.
As the night continued, they stayed in the jacuzzi, the conversation flowing as freely as the alcohol. The party around them faded into the background, leaving just the two of them under the night sky, the stars twinkling overhead like silent witnesses to whatever this was between them.
As the night deepened, the party eventually began to wind down. The laughter and chatter faded into the background as people began to drift away, leaving the yacht quieter, the air filled with the gentle sound of the waves lapping against the hull.
Jessica, having noticed the dwindling crowd, approached them, her expression one of relaxed contentment. "You two look cozy," she remarked with a smile, her gaze flicking between Allison and Rafe.
Allison straightened slightly, realizing how close she and Rafe had become over the course of the night. "Just talking," she replied, her voice calm despite the flutter of nerves in her stomach.
Jessica laughed, clearly unconvinced. "Well, the party's about to wrap up. You staying the night here, Allison?"
Allison hesitated, glancing at Rafe, who gave her a small, unreadable smile. "I think I'll head home," she said after a moment, feeling the need to put some distance between herself and whatever had happened tonight.
"Alright," Jessica said, not pressing the issue. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yeah," Allison nodded, forcing a smile as she stood up, the water cascading off her as she stepped out of the jacuzzi. She grabbed a towel, wrapping it around herself as she made her way toward the edge of the yacht.
As she made her way home, the events of the night played over and over in her mind. She wasn't sure what to make of Rafe, or of the strange connection that seemed to have formed between them. All she knew was that things were about to get a lot more complicated, and she wasn't sure she was ready for it.