His eyes glinted with mischief, a silent challenge flickering beneath the surface as he gazed down at you, an infuriating sense of ease woven into his stare.

Exhaling sharply, you pushed forward, your voice laced with barely restrained annoyance. “—so I think you should stop with the flirty little comments and… that thing you do with your eyes.”

From the moment your family moved to Figure 8, Rafe Cameron had been a relentless presence—an unwelcome shadow that always seemed to find you. Whether it was his uncanny ability to appear at the country club during your shifts, leaning against the bar with that maddening smirk, or the way he seamlessly inserted himself into your outings with his younger sister, Sarah, he was always there. Lingering. Watching. As if he thrived on testing the limits of your patience.

His smirk deepened, stretching across his face with infuriating confidence. “What eye thing?” he asked, his voice drenched in amusement, as if he knew exactly what you meant—and had no intention of stopping.