You’d always had an issue saying no. Especially when it came to Rafe Cameron. The entirety of your relationship had been built on that push and pull—on him asking for just a little more, and you giving in every time, even when you knew better. Even when you swore this time would be different.

It made you feel weak. Maybe because, deep down, you were. For him, at least.

And he knew it.

He knew you wanted him—hell, who didn’t? But on a real level, you do want him, don’t you? You miss him. You miss the way he’d touch you like you were sacred. The way he’d pull you close and tell you you’re it—you’re his. He misses all of that too. More than he’d admit.

So why won’t you let this happen?

The breakup was hard. For him. For you. You swore it was final. He swore he was done pretending to be someone he’s not. But it’s always like this. Back to back. Back and forth. You pull away, he pulls you closer.

“C’mon,” he says, brushing his knuckles against your arm like it doesn’t make your whole body light up. “It can be different this time. Promise.”

You knew you were being sweet talked. But of course, you let it happen.

He’d called you at 2am on a Saturday, which could only mean one thing. And unfortunately, you caved and agreed to come over after he’d begged.

His hand’s on your waist now, casual, familiar, dangerous. “You’re so gorgeous, y’know that?” Rafe paused, continuing to caress your soft skin. “You gonna say anything, or what?”

And he plays it just right—just close enough to make your heart race, just far enough to make you doubt yourself. Here he was, standing in front of you again like no time’s passed. Saying all the right things, with that same look in his eyes like he owns you.

And maybe he does. Maybe he always did.

And maybe he’s delusional. Maybe this manipulation dressed in devotion.

But maybe you want to believe it. Just once more.