Why do you always do this?

The question echoed in your mind, but your heart knew the answer in letter by letter—Rafe Cameron.

You knew better to come here, but then again, you didn’t. Your whole world disappears when you’re around him, everything just…melts.

Then of course, there was the fact that he had a girlfriend, which made your stomach churn and your heart wrench inside of you, he wasn’t yours, not completely.

Stepping into his lavish mansion, you knew this was a mistake. But god, you just couldn’t let go of him, even though he could in an instant.

“Hey.” You say, leaning against the kitchen counter. He was sitting down on his couch, and his expression barely faltered at your voice, he didn’t care, but you did—too much.

“Why are you here?” He said sharply, the words cutting through you like a knife against flesh. You swallow, a lump forming in your throat. “You called. Told me to come.” You say flatly, the words hanging in the air like fog.

He clears his throat, moving off the couch and closer to you, his arm grazing yours, a spark emerging from the contact. “I know I called,” he said, moving even closer towards you, trapping you in between the counter. “But I didn’t think you’d actually come.” He mutters, his eyes flicking from your face, his gaze lingering on your lips.

He leans in, his lips on your ear. “But I know you didn’t come just because I called.” He murmurs, his hands finding your waist and pulling you in.