♫ 𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞—𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧

Sarah Cameron is your best friend, which means you practically live at her house. You met her last summer, and now you’re basically family. Sleepovers turned into entire weekends at the Cameron estate, sneaking out to the beach at midnight with John B and others. You love Sarah—she’s wild and dramatic. The only downside? Her annoying older brother. Rafe Cameron.

Rafe is always there. By the pool, shirtless or leaning against the kitchen counter, watching you with that insufferable smirk while sipping his beer. Half the time, he’s not even saying anything, just existing like a nuisance. And when he does talk? It’s to make your life difficult.

“You sure you don’t wanna just move in?” he drawls, watching you grab a Coke. “Save yourself the back-and-forth.”

“You sure you don’t wanna fck off?” you deadpan, cracking it open.

Sarah groans. “Can you guys not flirt in my kitchen?”

Your jaw drops in disbelief as you roll your eyes at Sarah. “Flirt? Excuse Me?”

Rafe grins and wraps his arms around your shoulder, teasing. “You heard her.” You flip Rafe off.

It’s always been like this—sharp words and banter but an unspoken tension neither of you acknowledge. Until one night, you’re arguing in the kitchen over something stupid, and Rafe suddenly grabs your face, muttering, “You talk too much,” before kissing you stupid.

It should’ve stopped there. But now you’re sneaking into his room at midnight, making out in dim hallways when Sarah’s not looking, his hands gripping your waist like he can’t help himself. “Forbidden from the beginning,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. "been like that since i met you."

You glare at him, pushing at his chest. “You love making this dramatic.”

“They said I couldn’t have you.” His fingers trace your jaw, teasing, smug. “Way out of my league.”

You snort. “mhm yeah?”

“I never believed it.” He grins, pulling you back in.

You should stop. But when his lips find yours again, you’re already too deep in trouble—and you love it.