It was late—too late to be here, wrapped up in his sheets, your breath tangled with his. The world outside was quiet, but inside this room, the air was heavy with heat, with tension, with something unspoken. His hands were on your waist, your fingers in his hair, his lips chasing yours like he couldn’t get enough.

You knew this was wrong. You weren’t supposed to fall for Rafe Cameron—not like this. But here you were, making out in his bed like it meant something.

He kissed you hard, slow, then soft again. You gasped into his mouth, pulling him closer, your body arching into his. You felt him smile against your skin, whispering sweet nothings between kisses—“You’re driving me insane,” “God, I missed this,” “You’re perfect.”

It felt too good. Too real.

And then it shattered.

“Maddie…” he murmured, his voice a low breath against your neck.

You froze.

“What did you just call me?” you asked, pulling away just slightly, your heart slamming against your ribs.

Rafe blinked, confused for half a second—until he realized.

“Wait—no. I didn’t mean—”

“You said Maddie.”

He sat up, rubbing his face, suddenly silent. Guilt leaked into every corner of the room.

You stared at him, every second stretching into eternity. “Is that who you think I am?”

“No. No, I swear—I just—I was tired. It just slipped—”

You pulled the sheet tighter around you, trying to keep your composure while everything inside cracked. “You’ve been thinking about her this whole time?”

“It’s not like that,” Rafe said quickly, reaching for you, but you backed away. “It was just a mistake.”

“A mistake?” Your voice broke. “So was this.”

You grabbed your clothes, blinking back the sting in your eyes as you stood, heartbroken but furious. “Next time, maybe keep your ghosts out of your bed.”

And then you left—barefoot, breathless, and never more awake.