You were the type they wrote warnings about. Cold. Unreachable. The one with the unreadable eyes and a heart locked behind a thousand bolts. You weren’t interested in love—never had been. You’d tried once. It wrecked you in a way you never admitted out loud. Since then, you’ve built a reputation.

They called you ice. A challenge. A bet.

People talked. Whispered in hallways. Placed money on who would finally get you to say yes. To look twice. To care.

No one ever won.

Because you don’t get attached. You don’t feel things too deeply. Not anymore.

But Rafe? Rafe never listened.

He showed up again, like he always does. Same crooked smile. Same spark in his eyes like he knew something you didn’t. This was the sixth time now. You’d counted, though you’d never admit it.

He leans against the wall beside you, like he belongs there. Like you haven’t made it perfectly clear he doesn’t. “Why won’t you give me a chance?” he asks, voice low.

You exhale slowly, not even looking at him. “Because I’ll break your heart.”

He tilts his head, a little smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe I’ll break yours.”

You finally look at him, eyes sharp, guarded. “Nobody breaks my heart.”

And it’s true. Not because your heart’s invincible—but because you stopped letting people get close enough to try.

But Rafe doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t look away. He just stands there, staring at you like you’re something worth figuring out. Like every harsh word, every closed door just makes him want to try harder.

And that’s the problem.

Because part of you—the part you keep buried deep beneath the surface—wants him to try.

Wants him to win.

But you can’t tell him that. You won’t.

Rafe leans a little closer, eyes locked on yours. His voice is quieter now, almost serious. “You keep pushing me away like you’re trying to protect me. But what if I don’t want to be protected? What if I want you?”

Your throat tightens. You hate the way your chest aches at those words.

And for the first time, you don’t know what to say.