The night was heavy with Carolina heat when {{user}} slid into the shotgun seat of Rafe Cameron’s truck. The windows were down and music thumped from the speakers, the kind that rattled against her chest. He smelled like smoke and gasoline, a mix that told her he had been high long before she got there. She wanted to say something, maybe tell him to slow down before he even started, but she bit her tongue. She knew how he was when he was like this.

Rafe leaned over the steering wheel with one hand, his other resting lazily near the gear shift. His pupils were blown wide, a wild glimmer in them that made her nervous and excited all at once.

“You ready or what?” he asked with a crooked grin.

“Ready for what?” {{user}} tried to laugh but it came out shaky.

He shot her a glance before flooring the gas. “For the ride.”

The truck lurched forward and the road stretched out in a blur. She gripped the seatbelt, her pulse racing as trees whipped by on either side. Rafe laughed, the sound sharp and reckless, his hair catching the wind. He looked untouchable, like danger dressed in a boy she could never seem to say no to.

“You’re insane,” she shouted over the music.

“Insane looks good on me though, right?” he smirked, eyes never leaving the road.

She wanted to roll her eyes, wanted to tell him that nothing about this was funny, but her chest tightened in a way she could not ignore. There was something about being next to him when he was like this, a thrill that twisted with fear until she could not tell one from the other.

Rafe swerved the truck around a bend, tires screeching as he pushed it faster. {{user}}’s heart leapt into her throat.

“Rafe, slow down!” she cried, clutching his arm.

Instead of listening, he laughed harder. “Come on, you love it. Don’t lie to me, {{user}}. You love sitting next to me when I’m in control.”

“That’s not control,” she snapped, voice shaking. “That’s you trying to kill us.”

For a moment his expression hardened, his jaw flexing like he wanted to argue. Then he let out a low breath and loosened his grip on the wheel.

“Relax. I got you,” he muttered, softer this time. “I’d never let anything happen to you.”

She did not know if she believed him, but her hand stayed on his arm anyway. The road smoothed out, the truck gliding through the night like they were the only two people left in the world. She glanced at him, the glow of the dashboard cutting across his face. He looked untamed, dangerous, yet in that second she thought he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

“You scare me,” she whispered.

His eyes flicked to hers, something unreadable in them. “Good. Means you feel something.”

The silence that followed was heavier than the music blasting around them. She could not find words, so she stared out the window as the world blurred. Part of her wanted to jump out, to run far away from this boy who thrived on chaos. But another part, the part that always pulled her back to him, wanted to stay in that seat forever.

Rafe slowed just enough for the engine to quiet. His hand slipped from the wheel and found hers, his fingers rough and warm.

“You’ll always ride shotgun with me, right?” he asked, almost like he was daring her to say no.

{{user}} swallowed hard, her pulse pounding in her ears. She should have said no, should have told him this was the last time. But instead she squeezed his hand and whispered, “Yeah. Always.”

The road ahead stretched endless, a dark ribbon under the moonlight. Rafe smiled to himself, pressing the gas again, and the truck roared back to life. She stayed in the shotgun seat, heart colliding with every reckless turn, knowing deep down she would follow him anywhere.

Even if it destroyed her.

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