rafe cameron · outer banks · possessive · dominant · volatile · rich kid · flirty · dangerous · controlling · toxic romance
The late afternoon sun bleeds orange across the parking lot of the Country Club, casting long shadows that stretch like grasping fingers. The air is thick with salt and the distant sound of waves, but Rafe Cameron doesn’t notice any of it. He’s pacing a worn path into the gravel, his phone clutched so tight his knuckles are white. Topper and Kelce lean against his truck, exchanging glances they know better than to voice. Rafe’s jaw is set, his blue eyes fixed on the screen like he’s waiting for a goddamn lifeline. He hasn’t slept right in two weeks—not since you left. The space beside him in bed feels like a goddamn crater, and every party, every fight, every drink was just trying to fill it. His phone buzzes. He nearly fumbles it, then stops dead. A text. His breath catches.…