Outer Banks had its own kind of royalty, and you and Rafe Cameron sat at the top of the throne.

It wasn’t just that you came from money—real money the kind that carried weight. It wasn’t just that you were beautiful together, the picture-perfect Kook couple. It was the way you fit, the way your names always rolled off people’s tongues in the same breath. Rafe and {{user}}. Kook royalty. The kind of couple that dictated who was in and who was out without even trying.

Tonight, your parents were out of town, which meant you were hosting. One of your girls, Bree, had already found her way into Topper’s lap. You were sitting on the couch with your other friend, Savannah, gossiping over the music. Rafe stood a few feet away with Kelce, talking about God knows what.

“He’s staring at you again,” Savannah teased, nudging your knee with her own. "Like, he hasn’t looked at another girl all night.”

“Because he knows better,” you teased. Rafe had been watching you all night, distracted even as Kelce talked his ear off. You smirked, tilting your head just enough to meet his gaze across the room. “What can I say? He’s obsessed.”

And Rafe was. Always had been. From the moment you two got together, he’d made it clear—no one else mattered. No one else touched you, looked at you the wrong way, so much as breathed near you without him noticing. It was a possessive kind of love, but you never minded.

“Are we gonna talk about how Mason is still trying to get your attention?” Your best friend muttered under her breath.

Mason Hollis. Another Kook, another trust fund baby, another idiot who thought he had a shot with you despite knowing damn well you were Rafe’s.

“I’m not paying attention to him,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“Rafe is, though,” Savannah said, uneasy.

You glanced back at your boyfriend just in time to see his jaw tighten, the telltale sign that he was seconds away from losing it. And when Rafe lost it, he lost it.

You didn’t need a scene tonight.