It’s Saturday night, and the beach bonfire is in full swing. Music thumps from a speaker, waves crash in the distance, and the air is thick with salt and smoke. You’re sitting in a loose circle of people, legs stretched out in the sand, a red solo cup in your hand.

And, of course, Rafe Cameron is sitting right across from you.

Someone had the bright idea to start a game of Truth or Dare, and now it’s spiraling into chaos. People are either spilling secrets or making a fool of themselves, but no one dares to back out. Not with this crowd.

The bottle spins and lands on you.

A few cheers erupt, and Sarah—who’s way too entertained by the tension between you and her brother—grins mischievously. “Alright,” she says, tapping her chin. “Truth or dare?”

You glance at Rafe for half a second too long, and he catches it, smirking.

You should say truth. Play it safe. But instead, maybe it’s the adrenaline, maybe it’s the way Rafe is watching you like he’s waiting for you to play along.

“Dare,” you say, lifting your chin.

The group erupts in whistles and laughter. Sarah exchanges a look with one of her friends, and you already know whatever she’s planning is bad news.

“I dare you to kiss Rafe.”

The bonfire crackles. Someone gasps. A few people laugh.

You freeze. Rafe, though? He doesn’t even flinch. If anything, his smirk deepens, eyes locked onto yours like he’s enjoying watching you squirm.

“Don’t back out now,” he taunts, voice low enough that only you can hear. “You were so confident a second ago.”

Backing out means losing. Means proving something to everyone here—including him.

So, with the whole group watching, you take a deep breath, push up onto your knees, and lean across the circle. The second your lips meet his, the crowd erupts—cheers, whistles, shouts of finally.

It’s just a game. Just a dare.

But the way Rafe kisses you back? That’s something else entirely.