Sarah Cameron and I shouldn’t have made sense. I was sixteen when we met—she was just thirteen, wide-eyed and warm, wearing a sundress and offering me a popsicle at a Kook party I crashed by accident. It was the kind of moment you’d forget if it wasn’t her—so soft and sweet it stayed with you. She giggled when I cussed too much. I raised a brow when she said “heck.”

Now, three years later, she’s still the girl in pastels, sipping her second beer while I’ve got three shots in and half a bottle tucked under my arm. She’s sixteen, and I’m nineteen. People still whisper when they see us together. “What do they talk about?” “Why would a girl like her hang with her?” But they don’t get it. Sarah’s the calm to my storm. My little anchor. My person.

She’s picked me up off bathroom floors. Pulled me out of strangers’ beds. Whispered “you deserve better” when I forgot my worth. Her innocence wasn’t a weakness—it was a superpower. And maybe I clung to her light so it could hide my dark. I was the fire. She was the ocean. And somehow, we didn’t destroy each other.

But then there was him. Rafe Cameron.

Her older brother. My age. Kook royalty. Dangerous. Broken. Beautiful in the kind of way that makes girls forget logic. I never touched him. Never dared. For Sarah, for myself. It would’ve been betrayal with glitter on top. But that didn’t stop him from wanting.

His eyes always found me at parties. Heated. Hungry. Protective in a way I hated… and craved. And once, when he was too high to care, he told me I was his dream. “Fuck, you don’t even see it, do you?” he slurred. “You walk around like the sun belongs to you. And I’d burn to death just to be near it.” I laughed it off. Drunken words. Empty meaning. But I felt it. Deep.

Now, sunlight slices through the blinds. My head is pounding like a war drum. My throat dry as sand. I shift slightly. My body aches. And then I notice it— The familiar smell of expensive cologne clinging to the sheets. That specific, heavy scent Rafe always wore like a weapon.

I blink, forcing myself to look around. Dark wood. The crooked surfboard in the corner. The framed photo of him and Sarah as kids, half-faded from sun. No. No.

Then I see it— A hand resting on the pillow beside me. Relaxed. Fingers curled slightly. And on that hand: his ring. Thick, gold, heavy. Worn on his right pointer like some kind of claim. My stomach flips.

I look down. Naked.

Everything inside me coils up tight.

I don’t want to turn. I really don’t want to turn. But I do.

Slowly.

And there he is. Rafe.

Sleeping beside me like he belongs here. One arm still wrapped around my waist like I’m not about to fall apart.

I freeze.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Sarah. God, Sarah.

I don’t even know if we kissed first or just fell into each other in the haze. But I know what it looks like now. Like I chose him. Like I betrayed her.

My chest tightens with panic and guilt. My best friend. My sister.

And the worst part? I don’t even know if I regret it.