Summer in OBX was always unbearably hot, but in the best way. The kind of heat that made the air feel slow, made your skin glow, and made lying out by the pool feel less like a choice and more like a ritual.

And lately, it felt necessary.

You’d been tanning out here for days, ever since the weather turned warm enough to melt your thoughts. Drink in hand, sunglasses on, your body stretched out on a neon pink pool ring, lazily drifting across the surface of the water. Your legs trailed in the pool, toes skimming just beneath the surface, just enough to keep cool. It was perfect. Almost.

Except for the feeling. You knew it all too well.

Rafe Cameron.

He had a habit of watching you, and he didn’t bother hiding it. You’d caught him more than once, but he never looked away. Never turned his head. Never even blinked.

Like he wanted to be seen. And honestly, that was kind of hot.

He was the type you’d try not to fall for, and fail miserably. Tall, blonde, effortlessly handsome. Never spoke to you. Barely acknowledged you. But always had that damn smirk that turned your knees to water and your brain to fog.

Just like now.

He stood at his bedroom window, leaning against the frame in a grey t-shirt and black jeans, expression unreadable but gaze sharp as ever. His arms were crossed, posture relaxed, but there was something simmering behind his eyes.

You slid your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose, catching his stare like a hook.

He didn’t move, didn’t look away.

He just scoffed quietly, barely a twitch at the corner of his mouth, and then came the smirk. Slow. Crooked. Infuriating.