Y/N and Rafe Cameron had never gotten along. Their mutual disdain was a wildfire, fueled by every sharp comment, every scathing look, and every heated argument. They were like gasoline and a match—volatile, dangerous, and inevitable.

Y/N had grown up with the Pogues, working hard for everything she had. Rafe, on the other hand, was a privileged Kook with a chip on his shoulder and a penchant for trouble. Their worlds collided too often, and every encounter left sparks in its wake.

It was a sweltering summer night when the tension finally boiled over. The Kooks were hosting a lavish party, their opulence on full display, and Y/N had only shown up to keep an eye on her friends. She didn’t want to be there—didn’t want to see Rafe in his element, surrounded by people who fed his ego. But as the night wore on, she found herself alone in the quiet of the garden.

“Didn’t think this was your scene,” a familiar, infuriating voice drawled behind her.

Y/N turned to find Rafe leaning casually against a stone pillar, his piercing blue eyes watching her with that signature smirk that made her blood boil.

“It’s not,” she shot back. “But I didn’t realize I needed your approval to be here.”

Rafe chuckled, stepping closer, his confidence maddening. “Relax, princess. I’m just surprised you’re not out with your little Pogues, stealing beers or starting fights.”

Y/N crossed her arms, her glare cutting. “Better than hiding behind Daddy’s money and pretending you’re untouchable.”

His smirk faded, replaced by something darker. “Careful, Y/N. You don’t want to start something you can’t finish.”

“Try me,” she bit back, her voice a dare.

In an instant, the space between them disappeared. Rafe was suddenly in her face, his jaw tight, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and something else entirely.

“You have no idea what you’re playing with,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl.

“Neither do you,” she whispered, her heart pounding as their faces hovered dangerously close.

The air crackled between them