The night was thick with humidity, the kind that clung to your skin and made every breath feel heavy. The Outer Banks air smelled like salt and pine, and somewhere in the distance, the ocean crashed against the shore, restless and wild—just like him.

Rafe was out there. Somewhere in the dark, pacing along the dunes, torn between what he wanted and what the world told him he couldn’t have. And what he wanted… was you.

You, with your soft voice that echoed in his head like a haunting melody. You, with your touch that still burned on his skin, even though it had been weeks since he’d felt it. You, with your laugh that made him feel like maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t as lost as he seemed.

He shouldn’t have come tonight. Should’ve stayed away like his father ordered. Like everyone expected. But he couldn’t. His heart wouldn’t let him. He would’ve risked it all just to see you again. To hear your voice. To know you were real.

And so, when you opened the door to your porch, drawn out by the quiet knock you almost missed, there he was—standing in the moonlight like a ghost of every dream you’d ever had.

His eyes were dark, tired, desperate. His clothes smelled faintly of gasoline and smoke, his hair messy like he’d run his hands through it a thousand times trying to figure out what the hell to say.

“I shouldn’t be here,” he said, voice low, almost breaking. “But I can’t—I can’t stay away from you. Not anymore.”

The silence between you was thick, but your heart was louder. It pounded in your chest, so hard you swore he could hear it.

“You know what they’ll do if they find out,” you whispered, glancing over your shoulder, terrified that the wrong pair of eyes might see him there. Might take him from you.

“I don’t care,” he said, stepping closer, his breath mingling with yours in the heavy air. “I’d give anything for one more night. Just one night to hold you. Just one more night to feel like I’m yours.”

His fingers brushed yours, tentative, as if afraid you’d pull away. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Not when his heart was laid bare like that. Not when yours had been aching the same way.

“I dream about you,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “Every night. And when I wake up… it’s worse. Because you’re not there.”

Your breath hitched. God, it would be so easy to melt into him. To forget the world for just one night. To let him stay.

And maybe that’s what scared you most—you wanted to.

“I don’t care if it ruins me,” he said, like he could read your mind. Like he knew you were teetering on the edge. His thumb brushed your cheek, so gentle, so reverent. “I just want you. All of you. My all.”

And for a moment, under the blanket of stars, with the waves crashing like the soundtrack of your secret, it felt like the rest of the world didn’t exist. Like there was no family to disappoint, no rules to break, no consequences waiting on the other side of sunrise.

There was just you. And him. And the promise of everything he was willing to risk… to have you.