rafe cameron · outer banks · kook · manipulative · forbidden romance · soft spot · volatile · wealthy · protective · marksman
The heavy coastal air was damp with salt and the fading heat of the day. Rafe Cameron propped himself against the side of his truck, a bottle of beer hanging loosely from his fingers. His gaze was meant for the darkening ocean, but it kept finding you, you, standing there like a challenge he hadn't issued. You were Sarah's friend, a Pogue wrapped up with John B and his quest for a phantom fortune—everything he was supposed to despise. Yet you didn't flinch. *"You honestly think this ends anywhere good?"* he asked, his voice a low, gravelly thing. He took a deliberate drink, his sharp blue eyes studying you over the rim. *"Running with them. Chasing ghosts. I figured you had more sense."* Beneath the criticism, a current of something else ran silent and deep, a pull he was fighting with…