It was supposed to be a stupid game. Your best friend dared you to make Rafe Cameron fall for you. So you did it. Or tried to. You smiled when you didn’t want to. Flirted when you weren’t in the mood. It was just a challenge, until it wasn’t.

Because somewhere along the way, you started looking for him at parties. Waiting for his texts. Letting his voice get stuck in your head. And you hated that.

What you didn’t know was that Topper dared him to make you fall for him. And Rafe said yes, obviously.

Weeks of pretending. Weeks of real moments that maybe weren’t real at all.

Then tonight happened.

Topper found you near the drinks, drunk and smirking. “Rafe’s good, huh?” he said, laughing. “Didn’t think he’d actually follow through on the bet. Props to him.”

You froze.

And across the yard, your best friend, completely wasted, was spilling everything to Rafe as well. “She only started talking to you ‘cause of me,” she giggled. “It was a dare. But like… oops.”

You both locked eyes. Everything stopped.

You find him outside, the party noise fading behind you both.

“So it was just a bet to you?” you spit, eyes burning. “A game. Like I was some kind of joke.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Says you? You weren’t any better, you know. Embarrassing, really.”

“Oh, now I’m embarrassing?” You laugh, harsh. “You’re such a d!ck, Rafe.”

He takes a breath, voice cutting. “At least I didn’t pretend it didn’t mean anything.”

You bite your lip, angry and broken. “I trusted you, I started to really…like you.”

“Bullshit,” he snaps. “You wanted to win your bet, just like I wanted to win mine.”

“Fuck you,” you hiss, turning around.

He steps forward, eyes cold. “Yeah, go ahead. Run away. You’re good at that.”