loveswriting

Rafe didn’t belong here.

That was the first thing anyone with eyes could tell the second he stepped into the chaos of the pogue party music blasting, people everywhere, sand stuck to everything, drinks spilling like it didn’t matter.

He didn’t hesitate, didn’t slow down, didn’t care. He was here for one thing: Sarah.

He found her outside, of course he did.

Laughing.

Actually laughing with Kiara, like she didn’t have a care in the world.

And then his eyes shifted and landed on her Y/N. Standing right there with them like she belonged.

Rafe’s jaw tightened. “Sarah.” His voice cut through everything, sharp, controlled and dangerous.

Sarah turned, her smile fading. “Rafe?”

“We’re leaving.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Dad needs us,” he said flatly. “Now. Let’s go.”

She crossed her arms immediately. “No.”

Rafe let out a short laugh, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “No?”

“I’m not going with you,” she said, firmer this time.

Rafe stepped closer, lowering his voice but not his intensity. “I’m not asking.”

“And I’m not going,” she shot back.

That’s when it happened that shift. Y/N stepping in “Rafe, just—let her—”

His head snapped toward her so fast it almost looked violent.

And just like that Sarah didn’t matter anymore.

He stepped closer to Y/N instead, invading her space without hesitation.

“Of course you’re here,” he muttered, voice edged. “Pogues with pogues.”

Her brows pulled together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He didn’t answer, he didn’t need to his hand wrapped around her arm. “Let’s go,” he said. “I’ll take you to Barry’s.”

Her expression changed instantly. “No.” She tried to pull back. He didn’t let her. “I’m not going with you.”

Sarah was already backing toward the jeep, tension written all over her face but Y/N stayed exactly where she was. “I can get there myself,” she said, sharper now.

Rafe shook his head slightly. “Yeah? Doesn’t look like it.”

A pause.

Then a voice from behind them “Barry?” JJ Maybank frowned, glancing between them.

Kiara’s eyes flicked to Y/N. “Wait… Barry?”

Y/N exhaled, clearly done with this conversation already. “It’s not a big deal”

JJ cut in, eyebrows raised. “You’re still with him?”

She didn’t answer just looked back at Rafe. “Let go.”

He didn’t and that was it, her patience snapped.

She yanked her phone out, dialing quickly, not breaking eye contact with him. “Yeah,” she said into it, voice tight. “change of plans meet me at the beach.”

Rafe barely had time to process that before Barry showed up.

Like he always did fast.

Eyes immediately locking onto the scene to Rafe. His hand on her arm and something in Barry’s expression changed. “Let go of her, man,” he said, low and controlled.

Rafe straightened slightly, grip loosening just enough to pretend he wasn’t doing anything wrong. “I was just bringing her to you,” he said, casual—too casual.

Barry didn’t buy it. “Yeah?” he said, stepping closer. “She can do that herself.”

“In fact,” he added, glancing at her briefly, “she already did.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened.

“Let go,” Barry repeated.

Something about the way he said it Rafe didn’t like it. Didn’t like him. Didn’t like the way she stood next to him like that.

So instead of backing off—He pushed.

“Relax,” Rafe said. “I got it handled.”

That was the wrong move because Barry shoved him hard and that was it.

It escalated instantly.

Just fists and tension and years of bad decisions colliding all at once.

“Hey! HEY!” Sarah yelled, jumping out of the jeep.

Y/N moved faster than anyone, stepping between them, hands pushing at both of them.

“Stop are you serious right now?”

They didn’t listen, of course they didn’t.

Rafe swung and Barry swung back.

“Rafe!” Sarah shouted again.

“Barry—stop!” Y/N snapped, trying to force space between them, shoving at his chest.

It worked for half a second then they were right back at it.

Rafe’s breathing was heavy, sharp, his focus completely gone from everything else.

Not Sarah, not the party, not even Barry: Just her.

Standing there, too close to him. Too close to someone else. And that was the problem.

Because somewhere in the middle of all of it the shouting, the grabbing, the way he wouldn’t let go this stopped being about his sister.

Stopped being about Barry it stopped being about anything that made sense and turned into something else entirely.

Something messier, something worse, something Rafe Cameron didn’t know how to walk away from.

Barry swung again.

Rafe barely dodged it this time, the hit grazing his shoulder instead of landing clean, but it was enough to keep him locked in. His jaw clenched, breath sharp, vision tunneling.

“Rafe, stop!”

This time he heard it.

Not because she was louder.

Because she was closer.

Y/N stepped fully between them, hands flat against his chest, shoving him back harder than he expected. It caught him off guard not the strength, but the fact that it was her.

Rafe stumbled half a step, instinctively grabbing her arms to steady himself and then didn’t let go.

Barry moved forward again, but Y/N snapped toward him first. “Don’t,” she warned, voice sharp enough to cut through the chaos. “Just don’t.”

For a second—just a second everything stalled.

Rafe’s grip on her tightened slightly, his breathing still uneven, adrenaline buzzing under his skin. But his focus?

It wasn’t on Barry anymore.

It was on her. The way her hands were still on him. The way she’d stepped in front of him not behind, not away in front.

Like she was stopping him. Not choosing Barry. That thought settled somewhere dangerous.

Barry exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, clearly trying not to escalate again. “You good?” he asked her, eyes scanning her like Rafe wasn’t even there.

That—Rafe didn’t like.

Y/N didn’t even look at Barry right away. Her eyes stayed on Rafe, narrowed, annoyed, searching.

“I’m fine,” she said finally, but it came out distracted because she was still looking at him and he knew it.

Rafe tilted his head slightly, breathing finally slowing, a smirk tugging at his lips despite the tension still thick in the air. “You gonna keep holding me like that,” he murmured, low enough that only she could hear, “or…?”

Her expression snapped instantly.

She shoved him back hard. “God, you’re insufferable,” she muttered, running a hand through her hair, stepping away from both of them now like she was done with the entire situation.

Rafe just watched her.

Barry stepped closer to her side again too close and Rafe’s jaw tightened all over again. “There a problem?” Barry asked, voice low, directed at Rafe.

Rafe didn’t answer immediately. His eyes flicked from Barry… back to her. Always back to her. “Nah,” he said finally, rolling his shoulders like the fight hadn’t even happened. “Was just leaving.”

He wasn’t. Not really. Sarah, who had been watching the whole thing with wide eyes, finally stepped in. “Rafe, can we just go?” she said, clearly over it.

Rafe didn’t move, didn’t look at her. Didn’t look at anyone except Y/N, who was now pointedly not looking at him at all, arms crossed, jaw tight, standing just close enough to Barry to make something in his chest twist.

That was new, Uncomfortable and he hated it. “Yeah,” he said finally, voice flat, dragging his gaze away like it actually took effort. “Let’s go.”

He turned, walking back toward the jeep, expecting Sarah to follow. But even as he moved he looked back just once. And there she was still standing there and still not looking at him.

And somehow that bothered him more than anything else that had just happened because fights? He understood those. Barry? He could deal with him.

But her ignoring him?

That stuck and as he climbed into the driver’s seat, gripping the wheel a little tighter than necessary, one thought sat heavy in his mind: This wasn’t over, not even close.

Rafe didn’t apologize.

Not when he saw her the next morning, walking along the side of the road toward the country club like nothing had happened.

Not when he slowed his car beside her, engine idling, window already down.

Not when she glanced over, immediately spotting him, her expression going flat.

He just looked at her.

Like the fight hadn’t happened.

Like he hadn’t shoved Barry. Like she hadn’t had to get between them.

“Morning,” he said, casual. Too casual.

She didn’t stop walking. “Wow,” she muttered. “No shame. Impressive.”

Rafe exhaled through his nose, leaning his arm against the window. “I went by Barry’s.”

That made her stop. She turned to look at him fully now, eyes narrowing slightly. “Did you.”

“Yeah,” he nodded once, like it was nothing. “To apologize.”

There was a beat.

Then she huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Rafe frowned slightly. “I’m not lying.”

“You are,” she said simply, starting to walk again. “You don’t apologize.”

He drove forward slowly, matching her pace. “I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I just told you I did.”

She glanced at him again, unimpressed. “And I’m telling you I don’t believe you.”

Rafe’s jaw ticked slightly, but he didn’t push it. Instead, his eyes dropped briefly, taking in the fact she was walking. “Where’s your car?”

“In the shop.”

“For what?”

She shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“Yeah,” he said. “It does.”

She rolled her eyes. “Battery. I left the lights on. Happy?”

Rafe huffed a quiet laugh. “Smart.”

“Shut up.”

There was a small pause before he tilted his head toward the passenger seat. “Get in.”

“No.”

“Come on.”

“No,” she repeated, not even hesitating. “Not after yesterday.”

Rafe frowned. “What about yesterday?”

She stopped again, turning to him like he’d just said the dumbest thing imaginable. “You started a fight. With my—” she cut herself off, exhaling sharply. “With Barry.”

“He shoved me.”

“You provoked him.”

Rafe smirked slightly. “He looked like he needed it.”

She just stared at him. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re walking,” he shot back. “Get in the car.”

“I’m not getting in your car.”

“Why?”

She gestured ahead of her. “Because I’m literally right there.”

Rafe followed her hand and yeah. The country club entrance was right up ahead.

He blinked. Then looked back at her, then scoffed under his breath, pushing the car into park anyway right in the middle of the road.

“Rafe—” she started.

But he was already out of the car. “Fine,” he said, slamming the door shut and falling into step beside her. “I’ll walk you.”

She stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “You just left your car—”

“Yeah.”

“In the middle of the road.”

“Yeah.”

“…You’re actually insane.”

“Probably.”

She shook her head, trying not to smile and failing slightly. “God, you’re exhausting.”

“And yet,” he said easily, glancing at her, “here I am.”

She let out a breath, then suddenly she shoved him, hard enough to throw him off balance.

Rafe stumbled a step, caught himself, eyes widening slightly.

And by the time he looked back at her and she was already running, laughing. Actually laughing as she took off toward the country club.

“Are you serious right now?” he called after her, a grin breaking through before he could stop it.

She turned briefly while running just long enough to throw him the finger.

Rafe let out a short laugh. Then took off after her. “Yeah, keep running!” he called. “That worked really well for you last time!”

She just laughed louder, pushing the door open and slipping inside.

Rafe followed of course he did.

Rafe pushed open the door to the Kildare Island Country Club and stepped inside, scanning the bar like he owned the place.

His eyes immediately went to the usual spot on the bar where Y/N would serve.

Only… she wasn’t there.

His brow furrowed, and he approached the group of girls behind the bar, who were already smirking at him.

“She was right,” one of them whispered, nudging the others.

“Right about what?” Rafe asked, narrowing his eyes.

“That you’d come in looking for her,” another said, grinning. “You never miss a chance to show up where she is.”

Rafe tilted his head, hiding a smirk. “I… what? No.”

“Oh, come on,” said a third, pointing casually toward the patio. “She’s a caddy today.”

Rafe froze. “Really?”

The girls nodded, barely containing their laughter. “Yeah,” one said, leaning on the bar. “She’s Jim’s caddy.”

Rafe blinked. “Jim? The owner?”

“Yep,” the first girl said. “I guess she’d rather deal with him than with you.”

Rafe rolled his eyes, though his jaw tightened. “You all sound like you’ve been talking about me a lot.”

“Oh, we have,” another girl said teasingly, wiggling her eyebrows. “We know you’ve got a thing for her.”

Rafe’s eyes went wide. “What? No. That’s… that’s ridiculous.”

Sofia, standing a few feet away with a drink in hand, almost pouted at that, clearly catching the teasing too.

“Uh-huh,” the girl said, smirking at Rafe. “Sure. You just happen to show up every time she’s around, don’t you?”

Rafe crossed his arms, pretending to be offended. “I’m just… observant. Yeah. Observant. That’s all.”

The girls laughed, and one leaned closer. “she seems to like keeping you on your toes.”

Rafe’s gaze softened, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah… well, I like a challenge.”

“And she’s definitely giving you one,” the girl said, pointing toward the patio again. “Careful, you’re gonna embarrass yourself before you even hit the green.”

Rafe barely registered it at first because his attention was already gone.

There stood Y/N. In full caddy uniform, moving across the patio like she owned it just as much as the members did. Clipboard tucked under her arm, hair tied up the way he’d started noticing too often, voice carrying just enough to cut through Jim’s complaints without ever sounding like she was trying.

And Jim, the owner of the country club.

And somehow not talking at her but talking with her.

Rafe frowned slightly as he watched them. Jim gestured toward the club she was holding, saying something Rafe couldn’t hear over the noise of the course, and Y/N immediately rolled her eyes.

Properly. No restraint. No fear. “Yeah, yeah,” she seemed to say, brushing him off like it was nothing.

And Jim? Jim just laughed, actually laughed like he wasn’t irritated at all. Like he was used to it.

Y/N said something else sharper this time and tapped the head of the club against the ground, adjusting her stance like she was demonstrating something.

Jim leaned in, watching closely then nodded. A clear, simple approval. Like she’d just proved her point.

Rafe blinked.

That wasn’t… how that was supposed to go. The owner of the country club didn’t just nod at employees like that.

But Y/N just moved on like it was normal, already turning back to her job, already slipping out of that moment like it didn’t matter.

Like she wasn’t impressive like she wasn’t the reason Rafe hadn’t looked away once since he arrived.

“Dude…” one of the bartenders at the patio bar muttered under her breath.

The other leaned in slightly, watching Rafe instead of the green. “The Kook king is whipped.”

Rafe didn’t hear any of it properly, he didn’t react, didn’t even blink.

Because Y/N had just lifted her gaze across the course briefly, absentmindedly and for half a second it felt like she might’ve seen him.

And that was enough to hook him completely. He shifted slightly, gripping his club tighter, though he hadn’t taken a shot yet.

He told himself it was nothing, just curiosity. Just… figuring her out. But he kept watching anyway.

Every step she took. Every glance she gave Jim like she wasn’t intimidated by him at all. Every time she rolled her eyes like she could afford to.

And worse—Every time she didn’t look at Rafe. That part stuck more than it should’ve. Rafe exhaled slowly, almost amused at himself now, like he was stepping outside his own thoughts.

“Yeah,” one of the bartenders added, still watching him. “He’s gone.”

“Gone where?” someone asked.

She nodded toward the course. “Gone on her.”

More laughter.

Rafe didn’t deny it, he didn't correct it, didn’t even look away. Because Y/N had just picked up another club, gesturing something to Jim again, and this time Jim actually stepped back, letting her demonstrate.

And Rafe realized something he didn’t say out loud—He wasn’t here for golf anymore.

Rafe didn’t wait.

The second Jim dismissed her, already turning toward the clubhouse with a muttered complaint, Rafe moved.

Fast. Too fast.

Y/N barely had time to adjust the strap of her caddy bag before he was right in front of her. “Jesus—” she jumped slightly, hand flying to her chest. “Do you ever not sneak up on people?”

Rafe smirked, completely unfazed. “You scare easy.”

“I don’t,” she shot back. “You’re just annoying.”

“Same thing,” he shrugged.

She exhaled, already trying to move past him. He didn’t let her.

“You’re avoiding me,” he said again, like it was a fact he was collecting data on.

She rolled her eyes. “We’ve been through this.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, stepping in front of her again. “And you still didn’t answer properly.”

She stopped, giving him a look. “I answered.”

“No, you deflected,” he corrected. “Big difference.”

She crossed her arms. “What do you want, Cameron?”

Rafe tilted his head, studying her like she was a puzzle he refused to put down. “Why don’t you stay with your dad?”

There it was. Again. And this time—She paused just for a second but Rafe missed it. “I just don’t,” she said, brushing it off quickly.

He didn’t buy it. “I heard he’s strict,” Rafe added, watching her closely.

She shrugged. “I guess.”

Rafe nodded slowly, like he was putting pieces together. “We’ve got more in common than you think.”

That made her laugh. “Oh my god,” she shook her head. “Is that what this is? You trying to see if we’re compatible?”

Rafe shrugged, completely serious. “Maybe.”

She blinked at him. “You’re insane.”

“Strict parents,” he started, counting on his fingers. “Both like drugs—”

She held a hand up immediately. “Okay—stop. That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”

Rafe smirked slightly. “We’ve got chemistry.”

She rolled her eyes so hard it was almost impressive. “You’re delusional.”

He ignored that, stepping a little closer, voice lowering just enough. “Does your dad have expectations?”

She didn’t answer.

“Like,” he continued, watching her reaction carefully now, “expects you to be better than who you actually are?”

That hit. He saw it this time, the pause, the shift. And he smirked, just slightly. “See? That’s three things.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “That’s not a lot, Cameron.”

“Enough,” he said simply.

She huffed a laugh, adjusting her gloves, trying to brush him off again. “You’re reaching.”

“Why doesn’t Barry call you ‘country club’?” Rafe asked suddenly.

She frowned. “What?”

“You work here,” he said, gesturing around. “Seems fitting.”

She laughed at that, shaking her head. “It fits you better.”

Rafe sighed, mock offended. “That’s original.”

“It’s accurate,” she shot back.

There was a beat, then another, and somehow… neither of them moved. Just standing there, too close, throwing words back and forth like it was a game neither of them wanted to win.

Rafe tilted his head slightly, watching her with that same intensity. “You know you like talking to me.”

She scoffed. “I tolerate you.”

“Barely,” he added.

“Exactly.”

He smirked. “Still talking to me though.”

She stepped around him this time, finally breaking the moment but not really. “Go play golf or something,” she called over her shoulder.

Rafe turned to watch her walk away, that same slow grin creeping back onto his face. “Yeah,” he muttered under his breath. “Definitely chemistry.”

Rafe should’ve left it there.

He didn’t. “Hey,” he called after her, already moving to catch up. “You never answered me.”

She didn’t even turn around. “That’s usually a sign, Cameron.”

“Of what?”

“That I don’t want to.”

Rafe huffed a quiet laugh, falling into step beside her anyway. “You’re dodging.”

“I’m walking,” she corrected. “There’s a difference.”

“Barely.”

She shot him a look but didn’t stop this time, pushing open the side door to the clubhouse. Rafe followed like he belonged there which, technically, he did.

But this?

This wasn’t about golf.

“Seriously,” he went on, lowering his voice slightly as they stepped inside. “Why don’t you stay with your dad?”

She grabbed a towel off the counter, busying her hands, not looking at him. “You’re really stuck on that, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Rafe shrugged, but his eyes didn’t leave her. “Because it doesn’t make sense.”

She laughed under her breath. “Not everything has to make sense to you.”

“It does when it involves you.”

That made her pause, just for a second. Then she shook it off, turning back to him. “God, you’re exhausting.”

“And yet,” he said easily, leaning against the counter, “you’re still here.”

“I work here,” she deadpanned.

“Convenient.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “For you, maybe.”

There was a beat. Then he pushed again because he always did. “You live with Barry,” he said, more pointed now. “But you won’t live with your dad.”

She didn’t answer which, to Rafe, was an answer. “So what is it?” he pressed. “You hate him that much?”

Her head snapped toward him. “You don’t know anything about it.”

“Then tell me,” he shot back immediately.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t have to,” she said, sharper now.

Rafe studied her for a second, jaw tightening slightly but instead of backing off, he leaned in just a fraction. “You know,” he said, quieter now, “people don’t just choose to live with pogues like Barry.”

She let out a dry laugh. “And people don’t just choose to follow someone around a golf course all day, but here you are.”

“Not the same.”

“Isn’t it?” she challenged.

He didn’t let it drop. His gaze stayed on her like he was trying to read something she wasn’t giving him. “You could stay somewhere else,” he said again, more direct this time. “Doesn’t have to be him.”

Y/N finally looked at him properly. One beat. Then she scoffed. “You mean like… stay with you?”

Rafe didn’t even hesitate. “It’d be safer than the Cut.”

That got an immediate reaction.

Her eyebrows lifted. “Wow. That’s such a kook thing to say.”

“It’s true,” he said, unfazed.

“Sure,” she nodded slowly. “And what, your solution to everything is just… move people out of the Cut?”

“I’m saying it’s safer than staying at a drug dealer’s house.”

Y/N let out a short laugh. “It’s not that bad.”

Rafe tilted his head. “You don’t think so?”

“I think you’ve got a very dramatic imagination,” she shot back.

“That’s not an answer.”

“It is,” she said, stepping closer now, voice sharper. “It just doesn’t agree with you.”

He watched her for a second, then added, quieter but still pressing, “You’re not exactly safe there.”

She huffed. “And I’m safer with you?”

“Yes,” he said immediately.

That made her pause just slightly. Then she shook her head, like she couldn’t believe him. “You sound like my dad.”

The second it left her mouth—She stopped just a fraction too late. A flicker of something crossed her face, quick and guarded, like she wished she could take it back.

Rafe noticed. “Your dad?” he echoed slowly.

She rolled her eyes, recovering fast. “Forget it.”

But it was already out there now. And Rafe didn’t let it go.

“Strict guy,” he said lightly, testing. “Doesn’t like where you are, where you go…”

Y/N cut him off immediately. “We’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“This,” she said, gesturing between them. “You trying to figure me out.”

Rafe exhaled through his nose, almost amused. “I told you. I’m curious.”

“Yeah,” she muttered. “Well, don’t be.”

A beat. Then, softer but still sharp enough to sting, she added, “I can take care of myself.”

Rafe nodded once. “I’m sure you can.”

And for some reason, that didn’t sound like disagreement. It sounded like he was already watching to make sure she didn’t have to prove it.

Then she grabbed her things, stepping around him again. “I’ve got to get back.”

Rafe turned with her. “Avoiding me again?”

“Prioritizing my job,” she corrected.

“Same thing.”

She didn’t argue this time just walked.

Rafe didn’t plan it.

At least—that’s what he told himself as he pulled up outside Barry’s place, engine still running for a second longer than necessary.

It wasn’t about her. It was just… finishing something.

Tying up whatever that fight had been. Yeah. That.

He cut the engine, got out, didn’t knock.

Barry’s place was exactly how you’d expect—music low, smell of something strong in the air, a couple of guys scattered around like they lived there.

Barry looked up from the couch the second Rafe walked in.

"Cameron,” Barry said, like it wasn’t weird at all. Like they hadn’t been throwing punches at each other the night before.

Rafe gave a small nod. “Barry.”

And that was it, no apology. no mention of the fight.

Just… over, like it hadn’t mattered. Like it never did.

Rafe stepped further inside, slow, casual but his eyes? Already scanning and there she was.

Y/N.

Across the room, sitting on the arm of the couch, wearing one of Barry’s shirts again, too big, sleeves rolled, looking way too comfortable in a place Rafe still didn’t think she belonged.

His jaw tightened slightly.

Barry noticed where his attention went and smirked, misreading it completely. “You here for something?” he asked, already half-reaching for the table like he knew exactly what that meant.

Rafe didn’t even look at him. “No.”

Barry paused. “No?”

“Just stopped by,” Rafe said, finally glancing at him, tone easy. Too easy.

Barry studied him for a second then shrugged like it didn’t matter. “Alright.”

Too quick and too easy.

And that’s when Y/N noticed it too.

The way Barry just… dropped it.

No attitude. No edge. No fight. Like he wasn’t about to question why Rafe Cameron just walked into his place uninvited. Like he didn’t want to.

Her eyes flicked between them, something shifting in her expression. Because Barry? Barry looked careful.

Rafe, on the other hand, looked completely at home, too comfortable. Too confident like he knew exactly how this would go. Like he always did.

Y/N rolled her eyes slightly, pushing off the couch and moving toward the kitchen area, clearly not interested in being part of whatever this was.

Rafe tracked her immediately. He followed a second later, leaning casually against the counter like he hadn’t just invited himself into the space.

“You’re back,” he said.

She didn’t even look at him this time. “Observant.”

Rafe noticed. His eyes flicked over her again the oversized shirt, bare legs, the way she moved around like she belonged there. Like she was comfortable.

His jaw ticked. “You always dress like that here?” he asked, tone light—but not really.

She finally looked at him then, unimpressed. “Like what?”

He gestured vaguely. “Like… that.”

She glanced down at herself, then back at him. “It’s a shirt, Rafe.”

“Yeah,” he said. “His shirt.”

“And?” she challenged.

Rafe didn’t answer that, he didn’t need to. The look on his face said enough.

She huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “Why are you here?”

“Came to see Barry,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow immediately. “Did you.”

“Yeah.”

“You hate Barry.”

“I don’t hate Barry.”

“You fought him.”

“He shoved me.”

“You provoked him.”

Rafe smirked slightly. “He looked like he needed it.”

She just stared at him for a second, then turned away again, grabbing a glass just to do something with her hands.

“Right,” she muttered. “So this has nothing to do with me.”

Rafe didn’t answer and that was answer enough.

She shook her head slightly, almost to herself this time. “Unbelievable.”

There was a brief silence before he spoke again, quieter now. “There offers still there.”

She froze for half a second then kept moving. “The answers still the same.”

“Why?”

That made her turn back, brows pulling together. “Seriously?”

“What?” he shrugged.

She let out a short breath, like she couldn’t believe she was even having this conversation. “Because I don’t want stay with you.”

“You could.”

“I don’t want to.”

Rafe tilted his head slightly, studying her again. “You sure about that?”

She gave him a look. “Very.”

There was a pause.

Then, from the other room, “Yo, you good?” Barry called, glancing over.

Y/N looked back toward him. “Yeah.”

Barry nodded once, but his eyes flicked briefly to Rafe. Again—careful. Measured.

And Rafe saw it, a small, almost amused smirk tugged at his lips. Because now? Now he got it, Barry wasn’t unfazed, He just wasn’t stupid.

Y/N noticed that too.

The way Barry didn’t step in, didn’t question. Didn’t tell Rafe to leave.

Her gaze shifted back to Rafe, narrowing slightly. “You should go,” she said quietly.

Rafe didn’t move. “Why?” he asked.

She held his gaze this time. “Because you’re not here for him.”

A beat, then another.

Rafe smirked slightly. “And if I’m not?”

She didn’t answer right away just looked at him, really looked at him. Then shook her head, stepping back. “Then that’s exactly why you should leave.”

Rafe exhaled softly, glancing past her toward Barry again. Still watching, still… cautious and it only made that smirk deepen.

Cocky and Unbothered. Like he already knew he’d won something no one had said out loud yet.

When his eyes flicked back to her. She was already turning away. Avoiding him, again. And somehow that just made him want to stay even more.

Rafe wasn’t planning on doing anything.

He was just on his dad’s boat half leaning against the railing, drink in hand, pretending to care about the view.

The marina was quiet. Too quiet.

Which was exactly why he noticed it.

Jim’s boat.

Moving.

Rafe frowned slightly, straightening as he watched it pull away from the dock slow, steady, like whoever was driving actually knew what they were doing.

That alone was enough to catch his attention.

Jim never used it.

And then he saw her. Y/N.

Rafe let out a short, disbelieving laugh under his breath. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He didn’t think, didn’t hesitate.

By the time the boat drifted close enough, he was already moving stepping across without asking, landing smoothly on deck like he belonged there.

Y/N turned at the sound, eyes widening for half a second. “Jesus—” she laughed, shaking her head. “Do you ever not just… appear?”

Rafe smirked, already making himself comfortable. “You stealing boats now?”

She rolled her eyes, turning back to the wheel. “Jim lets me borrow it sometimes.”

“Mm,” Rafe hummed, glancing around. “Funny. I’ve never seen this thing leave the dock.”

“That’s because he doesn’t use it,” she shot back easily. “Too busy at the course.”

Rafe leaned against the console, watching her instead of the water. “So you are stealing it.”

She shrugged. “Borrowing.”

“Right.”

There was a beat.

Then she glanced over at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Well… I guess you’re stuck with me now.”

Rafe huffed a quiet laugh. “Tragic.”

But he didn’t move, didn’t even pretend to.

Instead, he stepped closer, too close coming up behind her, one hand bracing against the side of the wheel like he was about to take over. “Do you even know how to drive this thing?” he murmured.

She didn’t look at him. “Back off.”

Rafe smirked, leaning in just slightly more. “I’m serious.”

“I know how to drive a boat, Rafe.”

“How?” he challenged lightly. “You’re a pogue.”

That did it.

She turned sharply, shoving him back a step. “God, you’re insufferable,” she muttered.

Rafe caught himself easily, hands coming up in mock surrender but he was smiling. Watching her, always watching her. “Relax,” he said. “Just making sure you don’t crash it.”

“I won’t.”

“Confident.”

“Unlike you, I don’t pretend to know things I don’t.”

He let out a quiet laugh at that, dragging a hand through his hair as he stepped back giving her space.

For now.

The boat cut smoothly through the water, the dock fading behind them as the open ocean stretched out ahead.

Wind picked up slightly, tugging at her hair, at his shirt everything quieter out here.

Less people, less noise. Just them.

After a while, she slowed the boat, steering it toward a deeper stretch of water before finally cutting the engine.

Silence settled.

Rafe glanced around, then back at her. “What are you doing?”

She didn’t answer.

Just stood there for a second then reached for the hem of her shirt.

Rafe’s gaze sharpened instantly.

She pulled it off in one smooth motion, tossing it aside revealing a bikini underneath like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Rafe blinked once then smirked.

“Well,” she said, glancing over at him, completely unfazed. “Cameron?”

He tilted his head slightly, eyes dragging over her before meeting her gaze again. “Yeah?”

“Are you going swimming or not?”

There was a beat.

Then another and Rafe let out a quiet, amused breath, glancing around at the empty stretch of water before looking back at her.

“Let me get this straight,” he said slowly. “You stole Jim’s boat—”

“Borrowed.”

“—drove it all the way out here,” he continued, ignoring her, “just to swim.”

She shrugged. “You’re welcome to leave.”

He huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think I will.”

Her lips twitched slightly, like she already knew that.

Rafe stepped closer again, slower this time, more deliberate. “Pretty bold,” he added, voice dropping slightly. “Getting me alone out here.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh my god.”

“What?” he smirked. “What if this is your thing?”

“My thing?”

“Yeah,” he said, gesturing vaguely around them. “Lure rich guys onto boats… take them out into the middle of nowhere…”

She blinked at him.

“…serial killer,” he finished casually.

There was a pause.

Then she let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “You’re actually insane.”

“Am I wrong?” he shrugged.

She crossed her arms slightly. “You jumped onto the boat, Rafe. I didn’t invite you.”

“Sure,” he said, nodding like he didn’t believe a word of it. “You definitely didn’t see me on the pier and think, ‘yeah, I’ll take him out to open water.’”

“I did not,” she said flatly.

“Mm,” he hummed. “Sure you didn’t.”

She stared at him for a second, then smirked slightly. “If there’s a serial killer here, it’s definitely you.”

“Oh yeah?” he raised an eyebrow.

“You’re the one who jumped onto a moving boat,” she pointed out. “That’s weird.”

“Bold.”

“Unhinged.”

“Confident.”

She shook her head, laughing under her breath. “So what—‘country club’ is gonna kill me out here?”

Rafe smirked immediately. “You’re country club.”

Her eyes narrowed. “No, I’m not.”

“You work there.”

“So do a lot of people.”

“Not like you.”

She rolled her eyes again then, without warning, stuck her tongue out at him. Childish but quick.

And before he could say anything—She turned and jumped. Clean, effortless and gone beneath the water in seconds.

Rafe stepped forward, looking over the edge, watching the ripples where she disappeared.

Then she resurfaced, pushing her hair back, looking up at him. “Well?” she called.

Rafe shook his head slightly, a grin pulling at his lips. “Yeah,” he muttered, already pulling his shirt off. “Definitely a serial killer.”

And a second later he jumped in after her.

Rafe told himself it wasn’t a pattern, it just… happened.

He ended up back at the Kildare Island Country Club the next day and the day after that and somehow, the day after that too.

“Again?” one of the bartenders said the second he walked in, not even trying to hide her smirk.

Rafe didn’t miss a beat. “I’m a member.”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded slowly. “And she’s not even on shift today.”

Rafe paused just slightly—then scoffed. “Who?”

The girls behind the bar laughed immediately. “Oh my god,” one of them muttered. “He said who.”

“You know who,” another added, grinning.

Rafe rolled his eyes, leaning against the counter like he couldn’t care less. “Just get me a drink.”

But his eyes were already scanning the room, out of habit. Out of instinct and out of something he wasn’t about to admit.

“Mm,” she hummed, unconvinced. “Her dad made her go home.”

Rafe’s brow lifted, interest slipping through before he could stop it. “So she actually sees him?”

One of the girls scoffed. “More often than you think.”

Another bartender leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “He basically controls her life.”

Rafe let out a quiet huff, nodding once like that confirmed something. “Yeah. I figured.”

The bartenders exchanged a look, because that wasn’t the response of someone who wasn’t paying attention.

That was the response of someone who’d been listening a little too closely.

By the third day it got worse because now?

He was asking questions. “So…” he started, swirling his drink like it didn’t matter, like he wasn’t choosing his words carefully. “That girl. The one who works here.”

“Wow,” the bartender deadpanned. “Really narrowing it down for me.”

Rafe exhaled through his nose. “You know who I mean.”

“Oh, we definitely know who you mean,” one of them said under her breath.

Rafe ignored that. “She’s been here a while?”

“Years,” one of them replied.

Rafe nodded slightly, like he was just making conversation. “But she only comes during spring break, right?”

The girls laughed again. “Spring break… summer break… winter break,” one of them listed.

Rafe frowned slightly, piecing it together. “So she’s here pretty often?”

“Just not often enough for you, I guess,” another teased.

Rafe huffed, taking a sip of his drink, he didn’t even deny it.

“What do you want to know?” one of them asked, leaning forward now, clearly entertained.

Rafe hesitated for half a second then shrugged like it didn’t matter. “Her family,” he said. “Why doesn’t she live with them when she’s here?”

One of the girls scoffed. The other leaned in slightly. “You mean… instead of with Barry?”

Rafe’s eyes flicked to her. “So you know?”

“Of course we know,” she said. “She just doesn’t talk about it much.”

“About her family?” Rafe asked. “Or Barry?”

“Both,” another chimed in.

Rafe scoffed quietly, jaw tightening. Of course, nothing about her was simple.

One of the bartenders smirked. “You’re really interested in her, aren’t you?”

Rafe shot her a look. “I’m just trying to understand how someone like her ends up with someone like him.”

“Ouch,” one of them laughed.

Rafe didn’t even flinch. “I’m serious.”

There was a small pause.

Then, “Do you at least know about her dad?” one of them asked.

Rafe shrugged. “That he’s strict? That he basically controls her?”

One of the girls let out a quiet laugh. “Yeah… some people think she’s dating Barry just to rebel against him.”

Rafe scoffed. “That’s obvious.”

He paused, then added, quieter this time, “So she’s only here because of him?”

One of them nodded. “Now you’re getting it.”

Rafe looked away slightly, jaw tightening. “Sounds familiar,” he muttered.

The girls exchanged a look. “She’s here, but not really herself when she is, if that makes sense,” one of them added.

The other laughed lightly.

Rafe frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

The girl just shrugged. “Exactly what I said.”

Rafe couldn’t stop thinking about her. “Wow.”

The voice cut through everything, one a little too familiar. Sofia, “what did I miss?”

Rafe froze, he straightened slightly, clearing his throat. “It’s nothing.”

One of the bartenders snorted. “Yeah,” she said a little too quickly. “Nothing.”

Sofia didn’t look convinced.

Rafe pushed off the counter, grabbing his keys without finishing his drink. “I’ve got things to do,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

“Sure you do,” one of the bartenders called after him, amused.

Rafe didn’t look back because for once, he was the one leaving early.

The door swung open, and Y/N stepped inside.

Without thinking, Rafe blurted, “You’re back.”

She froze mid-step, brow furrowing as she looked at him. “What?”

And in that moment, Rafe realized he’d said it like he’d been waiting. Like he’d noticed she was gone. Like he actually cared.

One of the bartenders from earlier immediately burst out laughing. “Oh my god,” she said, pointing between them. “He’s been asking about you all day.”

Rafe shot her a look. “I was not—”

“You literally were,” another one cut in, grinning.

Y/N’s expression shifted, something between amused and suspicious as she looked back at him. “Have you?”

Rafe scoffed, recovering quickly, leaning back against the bar like none of that just happened. “Relax. It’s not that serious.”

She hummed, clearly not buying it, but didn’t push turning instead to grab a glass, slipping right back into work mode.

And Rafe? His eyes followed her.

It was automatic at this point.

She checked her phone a few minutes later quick glance, small frown.

Rafe noticed immediately, he always did. “Your boyfriend keeping tabs on you?” he asked casually, like it didn’t matter.

She didn’t even look at him. “Jealous?”

He let out a short scoff. “Of Barry? Please.”

She leaned in slightly over the bar, voice low and teasing, “ are you sure the Kook King…isn't jealous of a pogue?”

Rafe’s jaw tightened. He leaned in too, closing the space between them just enough. “I’m not jealous of a drug dealer,” he shot back.

She leaned back immediately, scoffing like that answer was exactly what she expected. “Sure.”

“I’m serious,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“Sure.”

“I am.”

“You don’t sound sure”

“I am!”

“Sure?”

Rafe exhaled sharply through his nose. “You’re annoying.”

She smirked. “And yet you keep coming back.”

That made him pause just for a second.

Long enough for one of the bartenders to snort from the other end of the counter. “Oh, he’s definitely enjoying this,” she said, not even trying to be quiet about it.

“Yeah,” another chimed in, watching them like it was entertainment. “This is the most personality he’s had all week.”

Rafe shot them a look. “You guys mind?”

“Nope,” one said, popping the ‘p’. “Keep going. This is better than tips.”

Y/N glanced at him again, slower this time, more suspicious—then sighed like she’d just figured it out.

“Dear god,” she muttered, setting the glass down. “Don’t tell me you’re actually here for me?”

Rafe scoffed immediately, straightening slightly. “I’m a member.”

She gave him a look flat, unimpressed. “You’ve been sitting at a golf course,” she said, gesturing around, “and you’ve barely even played.”

Rafe opened his mouth to argue, then hesitated for half a second before recovering. “Maybe I prefer the bar.”

“Convenient,” she shot back.

“Apparently,” one of the bartenders hummed from the side, leaning on the counter, “a very dedicated member.”

“Shows up more for her than the golf course,” another added, not even trying to be subtle.

Y/N rolled her eyes at that, shaking her head as she grabbed another glass. “Yeah, well, the manager’s only here during uni breaks,” she said dryly, not even looking at him. “So you might want to find a new hobby soon.”

Rafe rolled his eyes right back, but his gaze drifted straight back to her anyway. Like it always did.

It got worse one afternoon.

Some guy, a try-hard, far too confident leaned in a little too close to Y/N at the bar, smiling, talking, and making it painfully obvious he was flirting.

Rafe watched the two of them. He didn’t move, didn’t interrupt, just watched.

His jaw tightened. The way the guy grinned like he actually had a chance. The way Y/N laughed at his stupid jokes, casually, like it was no big deal.

Rafe’s grip on his glass tightened. The guy at the bar leaned way too close to Y/N, flashing a grin like he owned the place.

“Back off,” Rafe said, voice low and sharp. “She’s taken.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, perfectly calm. “You’re interrupting.”

The guy laughed, undeterred, leaning closer anyway.

Rafe’s jaw tightened. Without a word, he tipped his glass, letting the beer spill straight over the guy’s head. It soaked his hair, ran down his designer shirt, and left him sputtering, swiping at it.

“What the—?!” the guy shouted, jumping up from his seat clearly looking for a fight.

Rafe didn’t flinch. He sidestepped as the guy lunged, his hand shooting out almost instinctively, ready to strike.

“Rafe, stop!” Y/N’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and urgent but he didn’t hear her.

It wasn’t until she shoved her hands against his chest and yanked him back that he finally froze.

Her arms wrapped around him, holding him in place, grounding him. The sudden contact, the warmth, the pressure, her assertive grip made him smirk before he even fully realised it.

“I told you to back off!” he shot at the guy, his voice low and dangerous, even as Y/N held him.

“You!” Y/N snapped, pointing at the guy with one hand while the other still held Rafe in place. “Go! Leave! Right now.”

Rafe, of course, didn’t let the moment go. He tilted his head, eyes locked on the guy. “Yeah, you heard her. Back off.”

Y/N let out an exasperated sigh, keeping him steady. “Rafe… seriously. Don’t get yourself in trouble.”

The guy blinked, clearly intimidated now, and muttered something incoherent before stumbling away, muttering about needing a drink… or some other excuse to save face.

Y/N finally relaxed slightly but only a little and her glare followed the guy out the door.

She was still holding Rafe against her, steadying him, and he allowed himself a moment to enjoy it. Getting a little too comfortable.

Then Rafe couldn’t help himself. He smirked down at her, voice playful. “I didn’t know you were a hugger.”

Y/N groaned, shoving him lightly. “Cameron, stop.”

He caught himself, barely, and leaned closer anyway, teasing. “Come on… you liked it. Admit it.”

“You didn’t have to start a fight,” Y/N snapped, finally releasing him just enough to step back, one hand on her hip. “Why did you even do that?”

“You were ignoring me,” Rafe said, shrugging, voice calm but dangerous.

“Jesus, Rafe,” she muttered, exasperated.

He smirked, tilting his head. “So… why did you kick him out instead of me, huh? You like me?”

Her eyes narrowed. “He threw the first punch.”

“Technically,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“Just… stop,” she groaned, crossing her arms, glaring.

Rafe’s smirk softened just slightly, but his eyes stayed locked on hers. “And… you’re taken.”

There it is, the real reason he started that fight.

Y/N stared. Then laughed. “By Barry,” she said like it explained everything. “And I needed that tip.”

Rafe’s expression darkened. “You flirt for tips?”

“I’m a bartender, Rafe. Jesus,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Rafe smirked, tilting his head. “You say ‘Jesus’ a lot. That’s kind of blasphemous, don’t you think?”

She shot him a glare. “Can we go back to me flirting for tips, please? Jesus—concentrate.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You said it again.”

She glared harder, arms crossing. “Stop counting, Cameron.”

“Does your boyfriend know about what you do—” Rafe started, jaw tightening, before cutting himself off.

“Have to what? Do my job?” she challenged, leaning in just slightly, eyes sharp.

“That’s not your job,” he said flatly.

“It literally is,” she shot back. “Be nice. Be friendly. Make people feel special. That’s how you get paid.”

Rafe exhaled sharply, annoyed. “Yeah, well, that guy didn’t need to be that close to you.”

Y/N’s gaze sharpened. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” he said instantly, though the heat in his eyes said otherwise.

“Right,” she said, unimpressed. “You just walked over, scared him off, and reminded me I’m taken… for fun?”

Rafe leaned in slightly, voice lower, sharper. “I’m just saying.”

“You’re just saying what?”

“That you shouldn’t be entertaining guys like that.”

She laughed, sharp, unbothered. “You mean guys like you?”

Rafe paused just a heartbeat but his jaw tightened. “I’m different.”

“Oh, of course you are,” she said dryly.

“I am,” he insisted, his eyes flicking past her briefly, jaw ticking. “You said your dad’s strict, right?”

Her frown deepened. “What does that have to do with anything?”

He shrugged like it was nothing, though it wasn’t. “Just wondering… how he’d feel about you escorting… guys at the bar like that.”

Her eyes went wide. “Okay, now you’re going way too far, Cameron.”

“That’s what it looks like,” he said bluntly.

“No, it does not,” she snapped.

Rafe tilted his head, studying her. “You don’t think so?”

“You don’t know my father,” she shot back.

“No,” he said, stepping closer, voice lower now, “but would he like how you’re behaving?”

The glare she gave him hit harder than words. That was answer enough.

He smirked faintly, leaning back slightly as though he hadn’t just crossed a line.

“You’re unbelievable,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“And,” he said, eyes locked on hers, “you’re still talking to me.”

She rolled her eyes, reaching for a glass to distract herself. “Go bother someone else.”

Rafe didn’t move. Didn’t even pretend to.

“Dear god,” she muttered. “You’re insane.”

“I prefer… persuasive,” Rafe said, casually sipping from a new glass, eyes already drifting back to her like a magnet.

One of the bartenders from before snorted. “Yeah… he’s definitely enjoying this, isn’t he?”

The other added with a grin, “So this is why he keeps coming back.”

Y/N just groaned, leaning on the bar. “I swear, Cameron…”

Rafe’s smirk widened. “And yet… here I am.”

It wasn’t all fighting, though that was the problem.

One evening, the bar was quieter than usual. No crowd, no noise. Just her and him.

Rafe leaned against the counter, watching her wipe down glasses.

“Why do you keep coming back?” he asked suddenly, voice low, just enough to break the silence.

She paused, orange juice in hand, then smirked. “Why do you?”

He frowned, tilting his head. “That’s not an answer.”

“Neither was yours,” she shot back, rolling her eyes.

Rafe’s smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’re impossible.”

She leaned on the counter, matching his smirk. “I should have banned you instead of that guy the other day.”

“For what?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“For starting a fight. And for… calling me an escort,” she added, mock indignation in her tone.

Rafe sighed, shaking his head but the smirk never left. He noticed her hand hovering over the orange juice, pouring it across the counter in front of him, clearing the opposite of what she’d just said. Clearly, she wanted him to stay.

“You poured me a drink… while saying you should’ve banned me,” he observed, amused.

“Mm,” he hummed, eyes flicking over her, following her movements like he couldn’t look away. “Or maybe you like me being here. You didn’t have to pour that for me.”

She raised an eyebrow, smirking just enough to tease. “Maybe I’m flirting… for tips.”

Rafe just chuckled, that low, amused sound, remembering all their earlier arguments about flirting and tips. “Ah, still playing the bartender card, huh?"

Rafe leaned just a little closer. “So… tell me more about you. Really. Why are you here? You flirt with drunk rich guys for tips. You roll your eyes at me. You show up at the country club like you own it. Why?”

“I’m… curious,” he said, letting the words hang, casual but probing. “Trying to figure out how someone like you… ends up here. And keeps coming back.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is that what this is? Curiosity?”

“Maybe,” he admitted, letting his gaze linger on her just a second longer than necessary. “Or maybe I just like having you in front of me.”

Her smirk softened, a little almost shy, but she rolled her eyes again. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“And yet,” he murmured, his voice dropping just a little, “you keep talking to me… and pouring me juice. Makes a guy wonder if you’re trying to keep me here.”

She didn’t flinch. “Or maybe you give good tips, and that’s why I keep you around.”

“Aha, sure,” he said with a smirk, letting his eyes roam over her like he could memorize every little detail.

It didn’t last. It never did with them.

By that afternoon, Rafe was perched against the bar, glass in hand, eyes glued to Y/N as she moved around.

“So,” he said, casually, though curiosity lingered in the sharp tilt of his head, “your family?”

“I have one,” she replied flatly, smirking like he’d asked the world’s dumbest question.

“No shit,” he shot back, raising an eyebrow.

She laughed, leaning on the bar, all ease and sass. “Well, what about them?”

He gave her a look, sharp enough to cut glass. “Tell me about them. Or are they top secret?”

“They live here,” she said, shrugging, like that should’ve ended the interrogation.

“Obviously,” he murmured, smirk tugging at his lips.

“Why do you care about my family anyway?” she asked, mock offense dripping from every word.

“Because,” he said, tilting his head, “someone who only shows up during breaks is obviously hiding something.”

She rolled her eyes, smirk widening. “I’m the eldest of three. There—my secrets are out.”

“Ah,” he said casually, pretending to scribble notes in an invisible notebook. “Finally, something we have in common. Look at you opening up.”

She let out a sarcastic sigh of relief. “I’ve been keeping that in for a while.”

"haha very funny" He leaned closer, voice low and teasing. “So… how’d you even meet Barry?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Where all drug dealers hang out… down a dark and scary alley.”

He raised an eyebrow, pretending to jot that down too. “There are no alleyways on the island.”

She smirked. “You’re trying really hard to get me to talk, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he said, mock-innocent. “Or maybe I just want to know what you’re not telling me.”

“Good luck with that,” she shot back, leaning on the counter, completely unfazed. “Some things are top secret.”

He smirked, leaning in even closer. “Top secret, huh? Is that code for… ‘I like keeping you guessing’?”

Her eyebrow quirked. “Or maybe it’s code for ‘You’re insufferable.’”

“Thank you,” he said, mock-serious. “I take pride in it.”

Her laugh was soft, teasing. “Careful, Rafe. Keep asking questions like that and I might start thinking you actually care.”

He shrugged off her comment, giving her a look that dared her to keep talking. “So, your dad?”

She paused, fingers tightening slightly on the glass. “You already know enough,” she said lightly, joking or maybe just deflecting.

He leaned closer, voice dropping low, deliberate. “Yeah, I know. Strict. Made you change your major… I’ve heard that when you’re here, you’re not really yourself. That’s all because of your dad.”

Her smirk faltered, just for a heartbeat, at the last part. That slight twitch the subtle pause, didn’t escape his notice.

“What?” he prompted, eyes narrowing, teasing, but sharp.

She didn’t answer.

A bartender called across the bar, “Y/N,” and pointed at the clock with a quick nod.

Y/N glanced at Rafe once, expression unreadable, then let her fingers brush the edge of her apron as she started to untie it.

Smoothly, almost mechanically, she stepped toward the back, the apron slipping free and folded neatly in her hand as she moved.

Rafe didn’t notice her taking off her apron. He was still mid-thought, watching the last gesture of her smirk fade when he mentioned her father running her life when Kelce and Topper strolled in, leaning lazily against the doorway like they owned the place.

Their eyes were wide with barely contained amusement. They’d seen enough.

“Dude…” Topper said, grinning like a kid who’d caught his friend in a bad lie. “This is where you’ve been hiding?”

“What do you mean?” Rafe asked, brow furrowing.

“You were supposed to play a round with us,” Kelce said, chuckling, shaking his head. “And instead… you were here.”

Topper pointed at him, counting on his fingers for emphasis. “Down. Bad. For. Her.”

Rafe’s eyes didn’t leave the back door where Y/N had just vanished. He didn’t answer them. He didn’t need to his eyes glaring holes into the door made Topper’s grin widen.

“Wait… that’s Barry’s girl, right?” Topper asked, eyebrows raising like he was about to deliver a verdict.

“Ohhh… bad idea, man,” Kelce said, mock serious, hand on his chest as if warning him of impending doom.

Rafe didn’t even flinch. He leaned back slightly, glass in hand, shoulders relaxed, but his gaze stayed locked on the door. Silently waiting.

And then the thing that tipped it.

She left early,” one of the bartenders said casually, flipping a towel over her shoulder.

Rafe froze mid-swipe of his glass. “Didn’t ask,” he muttered, tone clipped.

“She’s at a party,” the girl added, smirking just enough to notice the way his jaw tightened.

Rafe’s fingers curled around the glass until the edges bit into his palm. “What party?” he asked, keeping his voice neutral, though every muscle in his body coiled.

“Far end of the Cut,” she said, shrugging as if it were nothing.

Rafe didn’t move for a second. He wasn’t supposed to care. He wasn’t supposed to want to go and yet…His chest tightened.

His phone buzzed. Ward. “Rafe. Pick up Sarah. She’s at a Pogue party. I need her home now.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened. His thumb hovered over the screen for a heartbeat, then he exhaled slowly, smirking, slipping his phone back into his pocket. Perfect. An excuse.

“Yeah… I’ve got somewhere to be,” he muttered, almost to himself, heart hammering a little faster than he liked to admit.

Rafe told himself it was just business.

That’s why he was standing on Barry’s porch. That’s why he knocked. That’s why, when the door swung open he forgot all of that immediately.

She stood there, already looking mildly annoyed, like she knew exactly who it was before she even opened it. She took one look at him and sighed. “Seriously?”

Rafe leaned casually against the doorframe, eyes dragging over her without even trying to hide it. And yeah he noticed.

Barry’s shirt. Of course it was Barry’s shirt it was loose on her, slipping slightly off one shoulder something about that didn’t sit right.

She turned her head and shouted into the house, “Baby! Your boyfriend’s here!”

Rafe let out a quiet scoff, but there was a smirk tugging at his mouth.

Barry’s voice called back, “Shut up, I’m coming.”

Rafe didn’t look away from her, he didn’t even try.

She caught him staring and just rolled her eyes again, like he was already exhausting. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Don’t need one,” Rafe said easily. “Got a pretty good memory.”

That earned him a look quick, sharp but before she could say anything, Barry appeared behind her. “Rafe, man,” Barry said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I got your stuff.”

Rafe barely acknowledged him. “Yeah,” he muttered, distracted because she had already turned away, walking further into the house like he wasn’t even there anymore and he followed her with his eyes.

She moved around like she lived there. Like this was normal. Grabbing things, tossing stuff aside, completely unfazed by the fact that Rafe was standing in the doorway watching her.

Actually watching her.

She started getting dressed like it didn’t matter. Like he didn’t matter and for some reason that bothered him more than if she told him to stop. “Where are you going?” Rafe cut in.

She didn’t even look at him at first, pulling a skirt on. “Why do you care?”

Rafe just stared at her blank and unapologetic.

She glanced up, caught it, and sighed. “Somewhere that’s foreign to you.”

Rafe let out a short chuckle, eyes flicking over her uniform. “Is it?” Because he recognized it immediately: The country club.

Barry snorted from behind him. “What, you worried she’s gonna take your nickname, Country Club?”

Rafe shot him a glare. “Shut up.”

Barry just grinned.

But she spoke again, cutting through it. “No,” she said, tying her hair up. “I’m doing something you don’t do.”

Rafe’s attention snapped right back to her, not that it ever really left.

She didn’t rush. Didn’t hide. Just stood there, adjusting her skirt, fixing her shirt Barry’s shirt like she had all the time in the world.

Like she didn’t notice him watching or worse like she noticed and didn’t care.

That irked him.

More than it should have.

“I’m working,” she added finally, glancing at him. “And that, to you, Cameron” She paused, finishing her hair, stepping toward the door. “is a foreign concept.”

Barry laughed under his breath.

Rafe didn’t.

His jaw tightened slightly, but his eyes stayed on her.

Always on her.

Barry leaned against the wall. “No goodbye kiss, sweetheart?”

She didn’t even hesitate. “I’m good," and just like that, she walked out the door shutting behind her.

There was a beat of silence which made Rafe exhale slowly, then looked at Barry. “You really just let her change in front of me?”

Barry shrugged like it was nothing. “She does what she wants.” That answer didn’t help at all.

Barry turned away. “Lemme grab your stuff.”

But Rafe wasn’t done. “Where’d you meet her?” he asked.

No answer, what was worse is Barry kept moving.

Rafe’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Why are you together?”

Barry glanced back at him, something unreadable in his expression for half a second then it was gone.

“Man,” he said, casual again, “you ask a lotta questions for someone just here to buy.”

Rafe huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah?”

Barry came back, holding out what he came for. “Yeah.”

Rafe took it, but his focus wasn’t on the deal it hadn’t been from the second the door opened.

Barry watched him for a second, then smirked slightly. “Careful, Country Club.”

Rafe glanced up.

“That’s my girl.”

Rafe held his gaze for a moment. Then smirked slow, deliberate. “Yeah,” he said.

But his mind was already somewhere else.

On her walking into a place he knew better than anyone, wearing a uniform that definitely wasn’t foreign to him and suddenly neither was the idea of showing up.

Rafe shouldn't have come. He tells himself that at least three times while pulling up to the Kildare Island Country Club like it wasn’t the most predictable thing he could’ve done.

Because of course she works here.

He walks in like he belongs because he does. But his eyes are already scanning. Looking, trying to find—There behind the bar.

Except, she sees him first and immediately turns around. “Are you kidding me,” she mutters, ducking down behind the bar so fast it almost looks like a reflex.

Her coworker blinks at her. “What are you doing?”

“Hiding.”

“From who—?”

She grabs her arm. “Don’t—”

Too late.

Her coworker glances up. Spots him instantly. “Oh. Him?”

She groans. “Yes, him.”

And Rafe? Rafe hears her, of course he does. That voice he’d recognize it anywhere. A slow smirk spreads across his face as he steps closer, leaning against the bar like he’s got all the time in the world.

“You know,” he drawls, tilting his head slightly, “for someone trying to hide…”

She freezes.

“…you’re not very quiet.”

Her coworker snorts.

Rafe crouches just enough to catch her eye under the counter, grin widening. “And here I thought I was special. Guess I’m not the only one you talk to like that.”

She stares at him for a second.

Then stands up—slow, unbothered, brushing herself off like he’s the inconvenience here. “Yeah,” she says flatly. “Except the difference between you and her is I respect her.” A beat. “I don’t respect you.”

Rafe just smiles. “Playin’ hard to get, love?”

She ignores that completely. “What are you doing here, Cameron?”

“Playing golf.”

She blinks at him. Then gestures around the empty bar. “The golf course is outside. This is the bar.”

Rafe doesn’t even react—just pulls out his ID, drops it on the counter. “A whiskey.”

She looks at it. Then at him. “It’s 9am.”

“That doesn’t change my order, sweet girl.”

She exhales sharply. “Don’t call me that.”

“Just get me my drink.”

She scoffs, turning around.

“With a smile would be great,” he adds, way too pleased with himself.

She doesn’t even look back just lifts her hand and flips him off.

Rafe laughs under his breath. “Isn’t part of your job customer service?” he calls after her. “Wouldn’t want me to complain to your manager now, would I?”

That makes her laugh like actually laugh.

She turns back, leaning slightly on the counter. “Funnily enough for you,” she says, tilting her head, “I am the manager.”

Rafe raises a brow. “Yeah?”

She points at herself. “Do you see my badge?”

“…No.”

“You're just ignoring it, asshole.”

He smirks. “I know the owner.”

She rolls her eyes. “Wow. Who knew Rafe Cameron was a Karen?”

That one actually gets him, a real laugh. “Just give me service with a smile,” he says again.

She leans in slightly, voice dropping just enough “I’d rather spit in your drink.”

Rafe’s grin sharpens. “I’d like to see you try.”

A second later, her coworker grabs her arm and drags her aside. “Okay—no,” she whispers. “You actually look like you’d do it.”

“I would not—”

“You would.”

She sighs, dragging a hand down her face. “You know I won't get fired—I've been here too long—”

“Don’t risk it. He’s Rafe Cameron. Just—don’t.”

Behind the bar, Rafe’s still there.

Leaning, listening and of course smirking.

“If she’s worked here for years,” he calls casually, “how come I’ve never seen her before?”

She grabs the glass harder than necessary, turning back to him. “That’s because you’re not that observant.”

She sets the drink down in front of him with a sharp clink. “There.”

“Rafe?” He turns and there she is. Sofia, apron in hand, pausing when she sees him before putting on a polite smile.

And just like that the moment’s gone.

The Y/N disappears to the back without a word, not even looking at him again. Rafe watches her leave, doesn’t even try to hide it.

“Hey,” Sofia says, stepping up beside the bar. “Didn’t expect to see you here this early.”

Rafe hums something in response, barely looking at her.

“You okay?” she asks, tying her apron.

“Yeah.”

But he’s not listening, not really.

Sofia tries again. “How was Topper’s party?”

“Fine.”

Short. Dismissive.

His fingers tap against the glass. His eyes drift back to the door she disappeared through. Like he’s waiting, like he doesn’t even realize he is.

And maybe—That’s the problem.

Rafe had been there for hours.

Just… there.

Inside the Kildare Island Country Club, drifting from the bar to the lounge to the hallway like he had something to do like he had a reason to stay.

He hadn’t even stepped foot outside. Didn’t play golf. Didn’t check in. Didn’t do anything except linger.

And at some point, even he started questioning it. Why was he still here? What was he doing?

He leaned against one of the pillars, drink in hand, barely touched, scanning the room for what felt like the hundredth time—

And then he saw her and just like that, it made sense.

Y/N stood across the room, not behind the bar this time, but facing Jim the owner of the country club. The most powerful man in Kildare.

And she was arguing with him.

Rafe straightened slightly, his attention locking in immediately.

Her arms were crossed, posture firm, expression sharp. Jim was talking, clearly irritated, gesturing like he was used to being listened to used to being right. But she wasn’t backing down, not even a little. If anything… she looked like she had the upper hand.

Rafe frowned slightly, watching closer because that didn’t make sense.

No one talked to Jim like that. No one stood there, completely unbothered, challenging him like they weren’t even slightly intimidated.

Which meant she had to have been here a long time.Long enough to know exactly how far she could push him, long enough to be confident doing it.

Rafe’s gaze lingered on her, something almost impressed flickering in his expression.

Because yeah she must’ve really worked here for years. You don’t argue like that with the most powerful man in Kildare unless you know exactly where you stand.

He shifted slightly, just enough to catch the end of it.

Jim exhaled sharply, clearly done. “Just—go.”

Y/N didn’t argue, didn’t push. She just held his gaze for a second longer steady, unimpressed before giving the slightest shake of her head and turning away.

Rafe just stood there watching her. Because now… he wasn’t just curious, he was impressed.

Even better she was walking straight toward the bar, toward him.

He was already waiting when she got there leaning back like he owned the place. Watching her like he didn’t even try to hide it anymore. “What was that about?” he asked casually.

She paused for half a second. “What?”

“I saw you with Jim.”

There it was that tiny shift it was barely noticeable but Rafe caught it. So he smirked, trying to lighten it. “What, was he changing the uniform or something?” he teased. “I mean, I agree if he wants your skirts shorter”

She smacked him with a tea towel. “Goddammit, Cameron.”

Rafe just grinned. “What? Nah, tell me. What was it about?”

She gave him a look, already turning away to grab something. “I thought it was the bartender’s job to listen to your problems,” she shot back, “not the other way around.”

Rafe leaned forward slightly. “Says the girl dating a drug—”

Her hand slapped over his mouth instantly. “Don’t say that out loud,” she hissed, eyes flicking around.

Rafe blinked, amused, completely unfazed.

She pulled her hand back, glaring.

“Why are you dating him?” he asked, quieter this time but not backing down.

She grabbed a glass, poured him a whiskey out of habit.

Rafe looked at it then at her. “…It’s too early.”

She paused then laughed actually laughed. “Funny,” she said, sliding it back and replacing it with orange juice. “You literally had one a couple of hours ago.”

Rafe took the glass, smirking slightly. “Better.”

Then, more serious, “No, really. Why are you with Barry?”

She didn’t answer right away.

Just wiped the counter slowly.

“Why are you friends with him?”

Rafe’s expression shifted. Slightly a glare, it was subtle, but there. “…I see,” he muttered.

She shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal.

Rafe studied her for a second. “You don’t look like the type.”

She gave him a look. “Sure.”

“No, you don’t,” he pressed. “He’s not a good guy.”

“I know that.”

That made him pause. “You’ve been seeing him that long?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said casually. “Give or take two years.”

Rafe blinked. “And I’ve never noticed you until now?”

She laughed at that. “Wow. That just sounds like you lack observation skills, Cameron.”

Rafe huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “No, really.”

She leaned against the bar slightly. “Yeah, well… if you really do the math, it’s more like one year.”

Rafe frowned slightly, lifting the glass to his lips. “What do you mean by that?”

“I study out of town,” she said simply. “So when I’m here, I stay with him.”

Rafe stilled for a second then nodded slowly. “That’s what you meant,” he said, leaning in slightly, “by ‘only during spring break.’”

She nodded. “Exactly.”

“What are you studying?” he asked.

She blinked at him then laughed. “Why are you so interested in me, huh?”

Rafe didn’t even hesitate. “I’m trying to figure out how you ended up with a guy like Barry.”

She rolled her eyes, noticing his empty glass. “That,” she said, reaching for it, “is a round two conversation, don’t you think?”

Rafe smirked, already pulling out his card and sliding it across the counter. “Continue my tab.”

She smiled slightly. “Happily.”

She handed him another juice.

Rafe looked at it, offended. “No, no—whiskey. Come on.”

She laughed, taking it back to actually make him one this time.

When she set it down, he didn’t waste a second. “So?”

She sighed, like she already regretted entertaining him. “…It was sociology.”

Rafe hummed.

“But my dad made me change it to business,” she added.

Rafe nodded. “Yeah, I agree with him.”

She shot him a look. “Don't you study too?”

“Yeah,” he said, taking a sip. “Business management”

She nodded slightly, like she understood more than she let on.

Rafe watched her for a second longer then noticed something else.

When she was not talking to him, the way people greeted her, the way she greeted them back like it was familiar and easy. Like she belonged here.

He tilted his head slightly. “You’re really from here, huh?”

She glanced at him briefly. “Obviously.”

And just like that, she turned away back to work serving someone else.

But Rafe didn’t move, didn’t look away.

Because Now he was realizing something else, he didn’t just want to know her. He wanted to understand her and that was worse.

He had been here all day, he leaned casually against the counter, pretending to be interested in the polished wood and the expensive glasses behind the bar, but he was lying to himself, and to everyone else.

Kelce and Topper, of course, noticed immediately.

“You’re here?” Topper asked, smirking.

“Just grabbing a drink,” Rafe said, voice smooth, like he could sell it even if he didn’t believe it.

Sure, a drink. That’s why he was staring at her.

Y/N was behind the bar, pretending not to notice him while wiping down a glass.

Pretending—but failing.

He could see the moment she spotted him out of the corner of her eye, and the little sigh she tried and failed to suppress.

Rafe smirked. “So,” he said, leaning slightly closer, letting his voice drop just enough to be playful, “when do you get off work?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, barely looking at him. “Like I’d tell you that.”

Kelce snorted from the side. “Bet she gets off in an hour.”

Y/N whipped her head around, eyes sharp as knives. “Excuse me?”

“How would you know that?” Topper asked, suspicious.

Kelce shrugged, completely unbothered. “Think about it. Nine-to-five job, right? She leaves at five. In an hour.”

Topper smacked him on the head. “You sound like a stalker!”

Kelce just waved him off. “No, I did the math.”

Rafe leaned even closer, smirk teasing, eyes locked on her. “So, sweetheart… do you get off in an hour?”

Y/N rolled her eyes so hard it should’ve been a crime. “Nope.”

Rafe’s grin widened, because he knew she was lying. He could hear the little snort of laughter from her coworker behind her, giving her away.

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice low, teasing, dangerous.

“Don’t call me sweetheart,” she shot back. “And yes. A girl called out, so I’m on a double shift.”

Rafe straightened up slightly, pretending to consider it seriously, though his eyes never left her. “I could drop you home if you want.”

Her look said everything: you’re insane. “No thanks. I’m good,” she said flatly. And just like that, she was called to the back, disappearing from his line of sight.

Rafe’s eyes didn’t leave the door.

Kelce elbowed Topper. “You like her, don’t you?”

Rafe smirked faintly, voice low. “she's hot”

Topper laughed. “Yeah, dude. Totally.”

Rafe ignored them, his gaze glued to the back room door. Every second Y/N wasn’t in sight made it worse.

And when Sofia appeared at the bar a few steps away, apron in hand, pausing politely when she saw him, Rafe barely registered it. He barely even breathed.

His attention was entirely on Y/N.

Kelce grinned. “She totally lied. I bet she does finish in an hour.”

Topper shrugged. “I don’t know… she looks like she gave herself an extra shift just to avoid you.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened. He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. He was already imagining her walking out of that back door. He could see the way her hair would bounce, the way she’d roll her eyes at him even as she did.

And, if he was honest even to himself he wanted to go to that door. Right now. Right this second.

Not because he was stalking. Not because he had some stupid crush.

Because Y/N was worth it. Worth every sharp retort. Every eye roll. Every impossible-to-ignore glance.

And that… that was new for Rafe Cameron.

Five o’clock came faster than it should’ve.

Rafe had been there longer than he’d admit, leaned up against his car in the country club parking lot, arms crossed, sunglasses on like he was trying to look casual.

He wasn’t. He was waiting and he knew she’d show.

And she did. Right on time, the doors opened and there she was walking out like nothing happened, like she hadn’t lied straight to his face about a double shift. Bag over her shoulder, keys in hand, already halfway across the lot before she noticed him.

She stopped dead.

Rafe smirked instantly.

The sigh she let out was loud. Deliberate. Annoyed.

“You’re predictable,” he said, pushing himself off the car.

She didn’t even entertain it, just rolled her eyes and kept walking past him. “I had to come out anyway.”

“Yeah?” Rafe fell into step beside her easily. “That why you clocked out right at five?”

She shot him a look. “I can get home myself.”

“I’m heading to Barry’s anyway,” Rafe said, casual, like it meant nothing.

That made her stop.

She turned to face him fully. “I have a car.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, glancing around like he expected to see it. “Yeah? Which one?”

She pointed toward the corner of the parking lot. “That one.”

He let out a quiet laugh, dragging his gaze back to her. “Flash car… for a pogue.”

“God, you’re insufferable,” she muttered, already walking toward it.

“And yet,” he called, following her, “here I am. Offering you a ride.”

“And yet,” she shot back, “I’m still saying no.”

Rafe tilted his head, watching her unlock the car. “You lied about the shift just to avoid me.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“I didn’t.”

He stepped closer, smirk still in place. “You did.”

She exhaled sharply, sliding into the driver’s seat. “Oh my god, Cameron, not everything is about you.”

Rafe leaned against the side of her car, arms crossed. “It is when you’re involved.”

That made her pause.

Just for a second.

Then she turned the key in the ignition—Click, nothing. She frowned. Tried again. Click and silence.

Y/N leaned back in her seat, staring at the dashboard for a second before letting out a long, frustrated sigh.

Rafe laughed “Seems to me,” he said, pushing off the car, “you’re coming home with me.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, stepping out of the car. “You did this, didn’t you?”

Rafe blinked, almost offended. “Wow. blame me.”

She ignored him, popping the hood of her car and walking to the front. “Help me jump start it.”

Rafe rolled his eyes, hands going back into his pockets. “Like I’d do that.”

She shot him a glare. “Bloody kook boys. Used to people doing things for them.”

“Hey,” he said, stepping closer, slightly defensive. “I know how to do it.”

“Then do it.”

He shook his head, smirking. “I just refuse to.”

She stared at him, unimpressed.

“Let me take you home,” he added, softer this time but still stubborn.

Her expression didn’t change. “No.”

Of course not.

She crossed her arms, standing by her broken-down car like she’d rather sleep in the parking lot than accept his help.

Rafe just grinned because somehow, this was even better.

The drive started in silence.

Not awkward—just… loaded.

Rafe pulled out of the country club parking lot, one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily near the gear shift. His eyes flicked toward her every few seconds, like he couldn’t help it.

Y/N sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed, staring out the window like she hadn’t just willingly gotten into his car.

Rafe smirked slightly. “So…” he started, casual. “What’s your deal?”

She didn’t even turn her head. “My deal?”

“Yeah,” he said. “You. Your life. Your whole mysterious ‘I only show up for spring break and live with a drug dealer’ thing.”

That got her to look at him.

“Wow,” she said flatly. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

Rafe shrugged. “I’m curious.”

She let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “Why are you so curious about me?”

He didn’t even hesitate. “Like I said before… I’m trying to understand how a girl like you ends up with someone like Barry.”

She laughed actually laughed this time and turned fully toward him. “Why?” she said, amused. “It’s like what you’re really asking is—why am I not with a kook like you?”

Rafe slammed the brakes just a little too hard, the car jerking slightly as he turned his head to glare at her.

She blinked at him, then smirked. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

He didn’t answer. Just stared at her for a second longer than necessary before turning back to the road and continuing to drive.

But now he was quiet and that said everything.

Y/N leaned back in her seat, satisfied. “I grew up watching guys like you, you know.”

Rafe’s grip on the wheel tightened slightly. “And?”

She shrugged. “Not my type.”

He scoffed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He glanced at her again, something unreadable in his expression. “If you were with a guy like me—”

She laughed immediately. “Yeah, no.”

Rafe ignored that, continuing like she hadn’t interrupted him. “If you were with a guy like me, you wouldn’t have to work.”

She rolled her eyes so hard he could practically hear it. “Maybe I like working.”

“No one likes working at the country club,” he shot back.

“I do,” she said simply.

“Liar.”

She smirked. “Better than being bored all day, doing nothing.”

Rafe let out a quiet laugh. “You think I do nothing?”

“I think,” she said, turning toward him again, “you’ve never had to earn anything.”

That hit. He didn’t respond right away just kept driving, jaw tightening slightly. “You don’t know anything about me,” he said, voice quieter now.

She tilted her head. “And you think you know everything about me?”

“Working on it,” he replied.

She huffed a laugh, shaking her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re still in my car,” he shot back instantly.

She opened her mouth—then paused because he wasn’t wrong.

Again.

Y/N looked out the window, trying to hide the small smile threatening to form. “This doesn’t mean anything.”

Rafe smirked, eyes back on the road. “Sure it doesn’t.”

chapter one - Rafe Cameron can’t stop thinking about one girl—only problem is, she’s Barry’s.

chapter two - Rafe shows up at Barry’s place for a deal—but gets more than he came for when Y/N answers the door wearing Barry’s shirt and an attitude to match.

chapter three - Rafe returns to the country club the next day—this time with no excuse at all and immediately finds Y/N in the middle of a tense conversation with the owner.

chapter four - Rafe crashes a pogue party to drag Sarah home, but everything spirals when he finds Y/N there with her.

chapter five- one word: midsummers....coming soon

more coming soon...

short imagines

jims boat - Rafe follows Y/N onto a boat and ends up alone with her out on the water.

The music was loud enough to rattle the windows, bass thumping through Outer Banks-style chaos, bodies packed into Topper’s house like it was the only place on the island that mattered tonight. Spring break had a way of doing that turning everything reckless.

Rafe Cameron leaned against the kitchen counter, red cup in hand, scanning the room like he owned it or like he was looking for a reason to lose it.

That’s when he saw Barry.

Which is fine, whatever. Barry showed up where money and bad decisions lived.

But the girl next to him?

That was new.

Rafe narrowed his eyes slightly, pushing off the counter.

Barry wasn’t the type to bring the same girl twice, let alone look…comfortable. And this girl she didn’t match anything about Barry’s usual scene.

She looked too put-together, too sharp, like she actually chose to be here instead of just ending up here.

He found Topper and Kelce near the back porch.

“What’s Barry doing here?” Rafe asked, nodding toward the living room.

Topper scoffed, already annoyed. “Man, I told him not to come. I don’t need dealers running business outta my house.”

Kelce shrugged, like it was the least interesting thing in the world. “He brought his girl.”

Rafe blinked. “His what?”

Kelce smirked, glancing over. “Yeah. That’s his girl.”

Rafe followed his gaze again. Barry had a hand resting casually at her waist now, like it belonged there. Like she belonged there.

That didn’t sit right.

“Since when does Barry have a girl?” Rafe muttered.

“Since, like… now?” Kelce said, unhelpfully.

Topper waved it off. “I don’t care. I just want them out.”

But Rafe was already moving.

Barry noticed him first, of course. He always did.

“Rafe,” Barry said with that lazy grin, like everything was a joke only he understood. “What’s up, man?”

Rafe barely acknowledged him. His attention was locked on her.

Up close, it was worse.

Or better.

He couldn’t decide.

Barry slid an arm around her shoulders. “This is my girl,” he said, like it was obvious, like it had always been that way.

She rolled her eyes instantly. “During spring break only,” she corrected, dry as anything.

Barry just smirked and leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “Details.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened slightly, but he forced a smirk. “Didn’t know you upgraded.”

Her eyes flicked to him, unimpressed.

Before anything else could happen, someone called Barry’s name from across the room. He glanced over, spotting a client.

“Gimme a minute,” he said to her, already stepping away.

She sighed, like this was routine.

And just like that, she was alone.

With Rafe.

He didn’t bother hiding the way he looked at her now.

Slow. Intentional.

She noticed. Of course she did.

Her eyes flicked up, catching him, and she rolled them again like she’d already had enough of him.

Rafe smirked. “Rafe.”

“I know who you are,” she cut in immediately.

That caught him off guard for half a second but only half.

“Yeah?” he said, recovering. “Well, every pogue knows who I am.”

She gave him a look one of those looks that said you really think that’s impressive?

“Congrats,” she muttered.

And then she just… walked away.

Didn’t wait. Didn’t care.

She slipped into the crowd, heading straight for the dance floor, music swallowing her up.

Halfway there, she lifted her hand just slightly and pointed a single finger back at him without turning around.

Not quite a warning.

Not quite an invitation.

Just enough to mess with him.

She turned fully after that, disappearing into the lights and movement.

But not before Rafe caught the last thing the way she knew he was still watching.

And the way she didn’t mind.

Drew had been in that coffee shop more times than he could count.

Same corner table. Same order. Same baristas who’d long since stopped pretending they didn’t recognise him. It was part of the routine now filming, long hours, slipping into character, and then escaping here for ten minutes of something normal.

Or as normal as it could get.

The bell above the door chimed.

He didn’t look up at first. He rarely did anymore attention came with the job, and sometimes it was easier to just… not engage.

But then he heard her.

“Hi! How are you today?”

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. Just… warm. Soft, lilting. Different.

Drew glanced up before he could stop himself.

She stood at the counter, hands tucked into the sleeves of an oversized sweater, smiling at the barista like she genuinely cared about the answer. Not rushed. Not distracted. Present.

Her accent caught him first.

Australian?, if he had to guess. Light, but unmistakable. Every word sounded… brighter somehow.

“I’m good, thanks! What can I get started for you?” the barista replied, already smiling wider than usual.

She nodded thoughtfully, like ordering coffee required actual consideration.

“Could I please get a large flat white with Oat milk to take away, please, if that’s alright. And—oh—no rush at all.”

Drew blinked.

No rush?

Who says that?

She stepped aside after ordering, offering a small smile to the next person in line—him. Just a polite, passing smile. The kind you give a stranger in a hallway.

Like he was no one.

Like he was everyone.

And for some reason, that hit harder than being recognized ever did.

He watched her while pretending not to.

She didn’t check her phone. Didn’t seem impatient. When the barista called her name, she walked up with the same soft smile.

“Oh, we made this one a bit special for you,” the barista said, sliding the cup across.

Her face lit up—genuinely lit up.

“Did you? Thank you so much, that’s so kind.”

She meant it. Drew could tell. There was no performance in it.

And then—she tipped.

Not just the casual spare change kind. Enough that the barista actually blinked in surprise.

“Have a lovely day,” she added, like she was giving them something instead of the other way around.

Drew forgot where he was.

“Rafe.”

He didn’t move.

“Rafe.”

A little louder this time.

Drew snapped back, turning toward the counter where the other barista stood, eyebrow raised.

“That’s not my—” he started, then stopped himself, exhaling.

“Right. Sorry. Yeah.”

They smirked. They always did this—calling him by his character’s name just to get a reaction.

“Long day?” the barista teased, already making his usual.

Drew hesitated, then glanced toward the door.

She was still there, just pushing it open, the bell chiming again as sunlight caught her for a second—

—and then she was gone.

“…She’s been here about a week,” the barista said casually.

Drew looked back. “Who?”

The barista didn’t answer. Just tilted their head toward the door and gave a knowing little wink.

Drew huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head—but his eyes drifted back to where she’d been standing.

A week.

And somehow, he’d never noticed her before.

That didn’t sit right.

He picked up his coffee, barely registering the heat of it in his hands.

For the first time since filming started, he found himself thinking about something other than the next scene.

Or Rafe.

Or the cameras waiting down the road.

Instead, all he could think about was a girl with a soft accent, an easy smile, and the strange ability to make him feel invisible—