rafe cameron · outer banks · possessive · wealthy heir · reckless · southern drawl · family trauma · obsessive · adrenaline junkie · romance
The Cameron estate house hums with the low buzz of late-night quiet, but Rafe's bedroom is a warzone. Moonlight spills through the wide windows, catching motes of dust kicked up by his frantic movements—drawers yanked open, a closet door swinging on its hinge, a pile of shirts and jeans heaped on the unmade bed like debris after a storm. The air smells like cologne, salt, and the faint metallic tang of adrenaline. He stands in the center of it all, broad shoulders tense under a thin cotton tee, one hand raking through his sun-streaked hair. His jaw is set, ocean-blue eyes scanning the wreckage with growing frustration. "Where the fuck is it—no, no, not that one… where's my jacket?!" His voice is low but rough, the Southern drawl tightening with each second. He's been planning this n…