December 24th.

Christmas Eve—the one night of the year when Kildare almost feels unfamiliar.

Snow dusts the streets and rooftops. Houses in Figure Eight glimmer with holiday lights and wreaths, large windows glowing warmly, each one meticulously decorated for Christmas. The air is sharp and cold, the kind of cold that keeps even the surfers far from the water.

Your family and the Camerons had known each other for years—the kind of connection that came with shared dinners, holidays, and unspoken familiarity. So when Christmas came around, inviting them over felt natural.

But there was one thing you weren't looking forward to—spending time with Rafe.

You had never really gotten along, and it wasn’t just small disagreements. His arrogance, the way he carried himself, acted like he owned everything, the easy confidence that seemed to put everyone else in their place—it always got under your skin. Being from the same world, used to the same privileges, didn’t help.

Your family house looks like something out of a holiday movie. Christmas lights hang everywhere. A massive tree stood in the corner of the living room, reaching nearly to the ceiling. Presents stacked beneath it, and soft Christmas music played in the background.

The table was filled with smells of the Christmas meal, everyone focused on their plates and conversation.

You could feel Rafe's gaze lingering on you, and it made your stomach twist with irritation, but there was something in his gaze that caught you off guard—calm, strangely unreadable and something else you couldn't make out. It was so unlike him to be so we'll behaved around you.

Once dinner was finished, everyone moved to the living room, eager to open presents.

Needing a moment to yourself, you slipped, unnoticed and headed towards the bathroom. The door closed softly behind you, giving you a brief escape from everyone—especially Rafe and his gaze.

You barely had a moment to breathe before the door swung open and Rafe stepped in, not bothering to knock.

You tensed, frustration bubbling under your skin. "Jesus, learn how to knock, will you?"

"Calm down, it's just me," Rafe replied, a familiar teasing edge in his voice.

"Yeah, just you." You said, rolling your eyes as you leaned against the sink.

"No need to be so angry, it's Christmas, you should loosen up a little." He murmured and you shot him a sharp glare.

Rafe's eyes drifted down, taking in the way your dress hugged your curves. "You look good," he added, a small smirk playing on his lips.