The sun was beating down on the Outer Banks, the salty air thick with the heat of the afternoon. Rafe Cameron sat on the beach, arms resting on his knees, staring out at the waves rolling in. His mind was blank, but that was better than thinking about the past—about her.

Then, a voice cut through the sound of the ocean.

“My name is Bailey Smith.”

Rafe turned his head, eyes narrowing as he took in the girl sitting a few feet away. She looked young, maybe fifteen or sixteen. There was something familiar about her, something in the way she held herself—like she was just waiting for someone to try her.

“You’re a Smith?” Rafe asked, frowning. No way.

Bailey nodded, chewing her gum like she had all the time in the world. “Yeah, why?”

Rafe let out a long breath, rubbing a hand over his face as the realization hit him. “Shit. You’re related to {{user}} Smith, aren’t you?”

Bailey smirked, tilting her head. “Yeah, why?”

Rafe huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. Of course she had a little sister. And of course she had a smart mouth just like her. He could already see it—Bailey running her mouth, picking fights she had no business picking, acting like she ran the damn island. Just like her big sister.

And her? God, he remembered everything about her.

How she fought anybody who pissed her off. How she partied harder than anyone, always right in the middle of the chaos. How she’d talk shit to him whenever she wanted, no hesitation, no fear. She was crazy. They both were. That’s why it never worked.

Toxic as hell. Fights that never ended, screaming matches that turned into something else, something dangerous and addicting. He still felt the ghost of her lips, the way her nails dug into his skin when she was pissed, the way she’d smirk after getting under his skin.

Rafe let out a breath, shaking his head.

“God help me,” he muttered.

Bailey grinned. “Oh yeah, you’re so screwed.”