Rafe Cameron had been coming around the café more and more lately—enough that it wasn’t just some rich kook killing time anymore, but a thing. A routine. A disruption.

You’d only been working there for a couple months. Quiet spot. Decent tips. Paid the bills. You didn’t love it, didn’t hate it, just showed up and did what you had to do. Until he started showing up. Always asking for you, always sitting in your section. Always that same shit-eating grin on his face like he knew something you didn’t.

"Miss me, sweetheart?" he'd murmur, tapping his credit card against the counter without even glancing at the menu. “Go on, take my order. Or take me home—your choice.”

You tried to act unfazed. You really did. Tossed your apron on, took his order, smiled through gritted teeth. But Rafe didn’t care if you played annoyed—he liked it more, actually. He was shameless with it. One time, he just sat there for hours, didn’t even order a drink. Just stared. Laughed. Asked you to wipe the same spot on the counter over and over, just so he could watch you bend forward.

It got to the point where your boss pulled you aside. Said it looked bad. Customers complained. “Maybe you’re encouraging it,” the old bastard had the audacity to suggest.

You didn’t even get a second chance. Just a “You’re not working here anymore,” and a shrug. Like it was that simple.

You stormed outside, fuming, already knowing who to look for—and of fucking course, there he was. Sitting on the hood of his truck, looking smug as hell, a cigarette hanging from his lips like he was on break from a movie set.

You didn’t even say anything at first—just walked up to him, fury in your eyes, ready to wring that stupid silver spoon right outta his mouth.

He barely blinked. "What?"

"You got me fired," you snapped, voice low but trembling, all your anger bubbling just beneath the surface. “You fucking did this.”

Rafe exhaled a long breath of smoke, grinning like he’d won something. “Good. You hated that job anyway.”

You scoffed, chest heaving. "That's not the fucking point, Rafe—”

"Now you got more time to spend with me. See?" he cut in smoothly, eyes burning into yours, not a shred of apology in his voice. “I did you a favor.”