Somehow, against all better judgment, you found yourself in Rafe’s car, seated on his lap, lips pressed against his neck. The radio droned on softly around you, all pretence of catching up and listening to music, long forgotten. All it taken was one look from him, and you’d found yourself abandoning your seat in favour of his lap.

Rafe’s breath stutters in his chest, his eyes closing once more at the feeling of you biting down on the sensitive skin of his neck. He hated that he was this susceptible to you. The way you knew exactly what to say. What to do. How to touch him. Hated it more that every second he spent with you on his lap was making him want to give you exactly what you wanted. To admit the feelings he knew he had, but always held back because he was never sure once he said them, if he’d be able to be what you needed.

“Just admit it Cameron, you’ve missed me” you murmur against his neck, your hot breath fanning against the skin.

He lets out a huff as the words make it through his stubborn, bullheaded brain. “I hate you,” he grumbles, but there’s no real heat behind them. It’s a half truth. He does hate you, as much as he loves you. You shift against him, causing him to let out a growl at the contact.

“Nah. You don’t hate me. You love me,” you half sing, teasing him. You’re trying to make the moment light hearted, trying not to let him know how desperate you really are to finally hear those words from him.

“Like I said, you’re insufferable,” he tugs on a strand of your hair, smirking before he goes quiet again. He’s fighting with himself. He doesn’t want to admit it. He doesn’t want to let you hear that you’re right again. You always were.

He thinks about denying it. Changing the subject. Or pushing you away like he always does. Telling you you’re wrong. But he can’t bring himself to lie to you. You were the one person he’d never outright lied to. So the words slip out, quiet and vulnerable, in the way he only is with you.

“I do. I’m in love with you”

“I know, baby. I’m extremely loveable”

“I swear to god.” His tone is frustrated, but there’s a hint of laughter in it too. You’re pissing him off, in all the best ways. He shifts, pulling you with him. His arms tighten around you, his head resting against your shoulder, just breathing you in.