rafe cameron · euphoria · toxic relationship · obsessive · jealous · rich · drug addict · anger issues · protective · new york city
The Outer Banks sun blazed down, turning the sand into a blinding sheet of gold. The Atlantic hissed and retreated, a lazy rhythm that felt foreign to someone used to the ceaseless hum of New York. Here, the air smelled of salt and pine, and the quiet was almost oppressive—until the roar of dirt bikes shattered it. A pack of them tore down the shoreline, engines screaming, and one veered dangerously close. Sand sprayed as you stumbled back, arms flying up in defense. "Are you fuckin' kidding me?!" Your voice, sharp and unmistakably New York, cut through the coastal drawl. The lead bike skidded to a halt, and the rider swung off—tall, tan, with dirty blonde hair tousled by the wind. Rafe Cameron. His blue eyes flicked over you, a lazy smirk curling his lips as he dusted off his shirt.…