You were the perfect Kook princess.

Raised in country clubs and charity galas, taught to smile pretty and never cause a scene.

Your parents had high expectations. You were supposed to end up with a nice boy, one with a trust fund and a “future in real estate”. Someone respectable.

Not Rafe Cameron.

But, God, did he make it hard to care.

Rafe was a Kook too. A rich kid, just like you. But he grew up different. He had everything handed to him, but somehow, nothing ever felt like enough.

So he filled the void with the thrill of it all.

Fast bikes. Faster cars. Poker games. Parties. And of course the drūgs.

You knew you shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be sneaking out in the middle of the night, barefoot as you tiptoed down your grand staircase.

But when your phone buzzed with his name, when you read the simple come outside, there was no hesitation.

And now, here you were. Wind in your hair, heart racing, hands gripping him as Rafe sped down the empty roads on his bike.

Your mother would die if she knew. Your father would kill Rafe if he ever caught him anywhere near you.

But when he pulled off onto a hidden dirt road, stopping under the moonlight, all you could think about was how right it felt.

Rafe turned to you, smirking as he took in your dress. The delicate silk, the expensive pearls, everything about you screaming perfect.

“Scared?” he teased, reaching out to brush a loose curl behind your ear.

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way his fingers lingered against your cheek. “No.”

He chuckled, leaning in just enough to make your breath hitch. “Liar.”

Your fingers curled around the lapels of his jacket, the scent of his cologne clouding your thoughts.

Rafe pulled out a little plastic bag, the p¡lls rattling inside. “C’mon,” he murmured, smirking. “One won’t kill you.”

You swallowed. This was a horrible idea.

He was a bad influence, but you did live for the thrill of it all.