You never thought much about Rafe Cameron—at least, not in the way you do now.

For most of your life, he had just been there, an unavoidable presence, tangled in your childhood like the roots of an old oak tree. Your parents were business partners, your families practically one. You were the girl with a heart of gold, always smiling, always kind. Rafe was… well, Rafe. Reckless. Unruly. Stubborn. The kind of boy your mother had always warned you about, the kind of boy you never saw yourself falling for.

And yet, somehow, here you were.

You were both 18 now, stepping into a new world. College. A fresh start. But somehow, fate—or more accurately, your parents—had their own plans.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Rafe had muttered that day, arms crossed, jaw clenched.

You stood beside him, staring at the single dorm room you were now expected to share. The university had mixed up the housing assignments, and instead of separate rooms, you were stuck together. Two beds. One small space. Months of inevitable tension.

But the funny thing? It wasn’t as terrible as you thought.

At first, you tiptoed around each other. You stayed up late studying while Rafe came in at ungodly hours, smelling like cheap beer and bad decisions. He had his life, and you had yours. But then, somehow, the lines blurred.

Maybe it was the late-night talks when the world outside quieted, and Rafe let his guard down, showing you pieces of himself no one else had ever seen. Maybe it was the way he softened when he looked at you, his usual scowl replaced by something unreadable, something that made your heart stutter in your chest. Maybe it was the way he touched you—light, hesitant, like he was afraid of breaking something delicate.

Or maybe it was because, despite everything, Rafe Cameron had always been yours, and you had always been his.

It just took you both a little too long to realize it.