The afternoon light had started to soften when Topper's Range Rover pulled up, followed by Kelce's Porsche. The peaceful bubble of our little group burst as Figure Eight's finest spilled onto the pool deck.
"Didn't realize we were crashing a Pogue party," Kelce commented, eyeing where John B had his arm around Sarah on one of the pool floats.
I felt Rafe tense beside me on our shared chair (which I'd graciously allowed him to occupy, despite his terrible sun angle theories). His eyes flicked between his sister and John B, still adjusting to their relationship like we all were.
"It's my house," I pointed out. "Pretty sure I can invite whoever I want."
"Right," Topper's voice carried that edge it always got when he saw Sarah with John B. "Because the Genrettes are so progressive now. Tell me, JJ, does your mom know you're hosting Pogues at her estate?"
"Actually," Mom's voice drifted from where she was arranging fresh towels, "I suggested it. John B, darling, would you like more lemonade?"
Topper's face reddened. "You can't be serious. After everything with Sarah—"
"After what with Sarah?" I stood, feeling Rafe rise with me. "After she realized she deserved better than someone who treated her like a trophy?"
"You're one to talk," Topper sneered. "What happened there anyway? Figure Eight's golden couple, the perfect Kook pairing—until she traded down twice."
"Watch it," Rafe warned, but Topper was on a roll.
"First you, now a Pogue? At least with you she was keeping it in the right social circle. Though maybe that's why it didn't work—you were too busy making eyes at her brother to—"
He didn't finish because Rafe's fist connected with his jaw.
Chaos erupted. Sarah was yelling at Kelce, John B was holding Pope back, and I was trying to pull Rafe off Topper while absolutely not admiring how his muscles flexed when he was angry.
"Enough!" Mom's voice cut through the mayhem like a knife through butter. Figure Eight's most respected doctor could silence a room with a single word. "Mr. Thornton, I believe your father is expecting you at the club. Mr. Davidson, your mother called earlier about a family dinner."
The dismissal was polite, pointed, and absolute.
"This isn't over," Kelce muttered.
"Actually," Mom smiled her most dangerous society smile, "it is. Unless you'd like me to discuss with your parents exactly why you were banned from three yacht clubs last summer?"
They left, trailing wounded pride and designer water droplets.
"Rafe Cameron," Sarah scolded once they were gone, curled back into John B's side, "that was—"
"Hot," I said without thinking, then immediately wanted to drown myself.
"I was going to say reckless," Sarah grinned, "but yeah, that too."
"Just kiss already," John B added helpfully, making Sarah giggle.
Rafe was still breathing hard, knuckles red. "He can't talk about you like that. Either of you."
"My reputation will survive," Sarah assured him.
"And I can fight my own battles," I added.
"I know," he turned to face me, eyes intense. "But you shouldn't have to."
We were standing too close. Everyone was watching. Mom had that look she got when she was planning someone's social destruction.
"Your hand needs ice," I said finally.
"I'm fine—"
"You punched Topper's thick skull, you're not fine—"
"It's barely bruised—"
"Because you don't know how to throw a proper punch—"
"I just defended your honor and this is the thanks I get?"
"My honor doesn't need defending by some wannabe knight in Gucci board shorts—"
"Oh, so we're back to criticizing my clothes?"
"Children," Mom interrupted smoothly, "perhaps take the lovers' quarrel inside while I call some parents? Sarah, darling, help me compose some carefully worded texts?"
"With pleasure, Dr. G," Sarah untangled herself from John B. "Someone has to maintain the family's reputation for elegant takedowns."
"It's not a lovers' quarrel," Rafe and I protested in unison.
"Of course not," Mom agreed. "Now go put ice on those knuckles before they swell. And JJ? The first aid kit is—"
"In your office," I finished. "Where the files are."
She met my eyes steadily. "Perhaps it's time we discussed certain... family matters. All of them."
Rafe's hand found mine, warm and slightly swollen. "Together?"
"Yeah," I squeezed his fingers. "Together."
"Just remember," Sarah called after us, "when you two finally get together, I get to plan the wedding. I've only been waiting since we were twelve!"
Some mysteries were worth solving. Some secrets were worth uncovering. And some people were worth getting punched over.
Even if they did throw terrible punches.