Being Topper Thornton’s little sister came with rules.

No sneaking out, no Pogues, and definitely no messing around with his friends.

But Rafe Cameron never followed rules.

And you never cared for them either.

So when you ended up in his passenger seat late one summer night, the wind whipping through your hair as he sped down the empty Outer Banks roads, you weren’t thinking about consequences.

You were thinking about him.

“You gonna keep pretending this isn’t a thing?” Rafe asked, his voice dripping with amusement as he glanced over at you. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel, a cocky smirk tugging at his lips.

You huffed, looking out at the darkened coastline. “This isn’t a thing.”

Rafe laughed, shaking his head. “Right. That’s why you’re here, with me, in the middle of the night.”

You turned toward him, narrowing your eyes. “If Topper finds out—”

Rafe cut you off with a scoff. “Fuck Topper.” He downshifted, the car roaring as he sped up. “He doesn’t get to tell you what to do.”

You bit your lip, because as much as you hated to admit it—he was right.

And the truth was, you didn’t want to stop.

Rafe must’ve caught the hesitation in your silence, because the next thing you knew, he was pulling off the road, parking in some secluded spot near the docks.

The air between you felt thick—charged with something reckless and undeniable.

“You scared, Bunny?” he murmured, tilting his head as he leaned closer.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart raced. “Of you? Please.”

Rafe smirked, fingers tracing along the hem of your dress. “Then prove it.”

And before you could even think, before you could remind yourself of all the reasons this was a bad idea—

You did.