𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞 - 𝐈𝐈
summary - Rafe Cameron can’t stop thinking about one girl—only problem is, she’s Barry’s.
chapter summary - 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.
tags - | rafe cameron | rafe cameron x reader | barry's girl | season 2 rafe? | outer banks | obx fanfic| rafe cameron fic| kook x reader | barry obx | rafe cameron imagine | enemies to ??? | tension| spring break chaos | she does not care about him | and that’s why he’s obsessed | barry being barry| topper thornton | kelce obx | party scene| slow burn vibes | attitude problem (her)| ego problem (him) |
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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.”
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