It started at the port, where the Kooks never expected a Pogue like you. You were different—sharp tongue, confident eyes, the kind of girl who didn’t fall for rich boys with messy pasts. That’s exactly why Rafe Cameron noticed you. Why his friends made the bet. “I bet you can’t get her to fall for you,” Kelce had said, smirking over a beer. “She’s got more sense than to fall for a Cameron.”

So Rafe stepped in like he always did—charming, intense, dangerous. You let your guard down. Slowly. You told him things you never told anyone, and he told you things that sounded real. You believed him. You trusted him.

And for a while, maybe he forgot it was a game.

Until the night of the party.

It was wild—music shaking the walls, drinks flowing like water, and you, wrapped in his arms, laughing like everything was perfect. Until Kelce spoke.

Loud. Sharp. Cutting through the music.

“Rafe… don’t you wanna tell her something?”

Rafe’s hand stiffened around your waist.

“What?” you asked, confused, glancing between their faces.

Kelce laughed, nasty and drunk. “Come on, man. Don’t get shy now. Tell her how this all started. You know… the bet.”

Your heart dropped. “What bet?”

Silence.

Kelce leaned in with a smirk. “You were just a bet, sweetheart. Rafe bet us he could get you to fall for him. And damn—he won.”

You backed away. “Is that true?” you asked Rafe, voice cracking.

He looked gutted. “It was before I really knew you—before I—”

You stepped back. “So it is true.”

He moved toward you, desperate. “It started like that, yeah, but it’s not like that anymore—I swear to you, I—”

You shook your head. “Don’t. Just don’t.”

And with that, you walked out. Out of the house, out of his life.

You weren’t a game. You were the girl who didn’t stay to be played.