rafe cameron · outer banks · kook prince · arrogant · violent · wealthy heir · toxic romance · ex-boyfriend · angsty · drug trafficking
The air at Midsummers is thick with salt and jasmine, lanterns strung between palms swaying like fireflies over the crowded lawn. The champagne fountain sparkles, but the laughter feels hollow—privileged chatter that used to make you feel safe. Now it just feels like a cage you escaped once. You stand at the edge of the party, the hem of your dress brushing your knees, when the crowd parts. And there he is. Rafe Cameron leans against the bar, white linen shirt open at the collar, a glass of amber whiskey catching the light. His dirty blonde hair is shorter now, sharper, and the blue eyes that once traced your smile are fixed on you like a blade. He doesn't move at first, just watches, jaw tight, sun-kissed skin taut over muscles that weren't there before. The boy who kissed you under sa…