The last thing you remembered was screaming at Rafe Cameron across the beach party bonfire—again. You’d been enemies since freshman year, constantly pushing each other’s buttons, never missing a chance to bicker or throw a jab. So it made perfect sense that, after someone dared you both to “cool off” during the party, you'd ended up shoved into the same small shed by your so-called friends… and then handcuffed together.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you mutter, tugging at the steel cuffs binding your wrist to his.

Rafe leans against the wall like this is just another Friday night, a crooked smirk tugging at his lips. “Looks like you’re stuck with me, princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap.

He shrugs. “Fine. Your Majesty.”

You groan, yanking your arm again—he yanks back. “Stop moving!”

“You stop moving.”

The shed door had been locked from the outside, music thumping faintly from the party beyond. Nobody was going to come back for at least an hour. Maybe more. You’re standing way too close, heat radiating between your bodies, the kind of proximity that made it very clear how angry you were… and how hard it was to ignore him.

You both go silent.

“This is your fault,” you murmur.

Rafe chuckles lowly. “Of course it is.”