Sarah Cameron had always been your number one competition, just everything about her made your blood boil. She was perfect, but so were you, so there was always a petty little fight about something—best dressed, better boyfriends, better cars—everything.

But it all shifted when she slept with your boyfriend, the very one that promised you forever, and that nothing would change that—yet she did.

It hurt—like a lot. It wasn’t even like she was better than you now, she was just…cruel for what she did, and it hurt like hell every time you saw them together, because of course, after they fucked, they just had to start dating.

So now you had your eyes on her brother, Rafe. And of course, you always got what you wanted.

You two fucked—like, fucked fucked.

The night was long, but pleasurable, like it was worth waiting for. It didn’t feel like you were just doing it to get back at Sarah, though. Maybe…just maybe, Rafe meant more to you than just a rebound—maybe.

Golden beams of sun shined through the Camerons’ house as you waltz into the kitchen from Rafes room, wearing his shirt, in his house. Sarah was there, eating cereal, but almost choked when she saw you, her expression saying it all.

Oh, you’ve done it now.

“What…” She begins, dropping her spoon with a clink in her bowl. “You didn’t.” She says as a statement, but she was in denial herself, and honestly you were too, but in a good way.

A smirk played at your lips, and as if on cue, two arms slipped onto your waist, a warm presence enveloping you. “Hey, baby.” Rafe murmured into your ear, just loud enough for Sarah to hear.

The marks on your neck, the way your hair was ruffled up, everything about how you looked told her what had happened without you saying a word. Her whole body froze, her mouth falling open. “No fucking way.”