The sun was setting over the marsh, casting a golden hue across the water. {{user}} leaned against her boat, arms crossed, waiting for the familiar sound of trouble. And there it was—the hum of an engine growing closer, Rafe Cameron’s dirt bike kicking up sand as he pulled up to the dock.

“What are you doing here, Rafe?” she called out, her voice sharp as she straightened.

He hopped off the bike, running a hand through his messy hair. “Relax. I’m not here to cause a scene.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” she shot back, her eyes narrowing. “We don’t exactly run in the same circles, remember? You’re a Kook; I’m a Pogue. And last I checked, you’re not exactly a friend of the family.”

Rafe smirked, leaning casually against the bike. “I don’t think that’s entirely true. You didn’t seem to mind when we talked the other night.”

“That was different,” she snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “You were drunk and spilling your soul because nobody else would listen.”

He stepped closer, his expression shifting to something more serious. “And you listened, didn’t you? Why’s that, {{user}}?”

She faltered for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden intensity in his tone. “I don’t know. Maybe I wanted to hear if there was any part of you that wasn’t completely messed up.”

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “You sound just like Sarah. Always thinking I’m beyond saving.”