It started as a transaction—simple, clean, and detached. That’s what you were good at. That’s what Rafe thought he needed. You were just the girl he called when the weight of his world got too heavy, the escape he paid for to forget the mess in his head. At first, it worked. He’d show up at your door with cash in hand, and you’d let him in like it meant nothing.

But somewhere along the line, it stopped feeling like nothing to him.

Now, he’s here again, sitting on the edge of your bed, staring at you like he’s trying to read your mind. His usual confidence is gone, replaced with something raw, almost vulnerable. “Why do you do this?” he asks suddenly, his voice low, but there’s an edge to it.

You blink, thrown off. “Do what?”

“This,” he gestures between the two of you. “Let me come here, pay you, like… like this is all you’re worth.”

You cross your arms, trying to keep your walls up. “Because that’s what it is, Rafe. A job. You know the deal.”

But he shakes his head, his jaw tightening. “It’s not just a job to me anymore. I can’t do this and pretend it’s enough.” His voice cracks, and it makes your chest ache in a way you didn’t expect.

You swallow hard, keeping your voice steady. “Rafe, this is all I can give you. Anything else… it’s not in the cards.”

He stands, his tall frame looming over you, and for a moment, you think he’s going to leave. But instead, he steps closer, his eyes locked on yours. “I don’t care what you think you can’t give. I’m not walking away, and I’m not giving up on this… on you.”

Your breath catches, and you hate the way your resolve starts to crack under the weight of his words. You’ve never had someone fight for you like this before. You’re not sure you even know how to let them.

But Rafe? He’s not going anywhere.