Rafe POV
I couldn’t focus on shít all day—Mikayla was stuck in my head. I had come so close to kissing her—if I had leaned closer, our lips would have met. God, I wished they had. Maybe then I could stop imagining how it would feel, but I couldn’t. Fùck, she had me hooked, and she knew it. She knew exactly what she was doing to me; the way she teased me afterward drove me crazy, the way her body brushed against mine, fùck—it took everything I had not to give in, not to worship her like the goddess she was. By the time I was driving Tripp home from work, I was a mix of exhausted and wired.
“You sure you don’t want to come with me to meet Izzy?” Tripp asked, breaking through my thoughts. I shook my head, fòrcing a smile. Izzy had messaged him a few hours ago, asking if we both wanted to go
