How on earth Rafe had got her was beyond him. In fact, it was beyond everyone in Outer Banks. The sweet, angel girl of Kildare and the murderous son of Ward Cameron — what were the chances of that? Most people would’ve assumed she’d run for the hills at even the idea of some of the stuff Rafe’s done. Most people would be correct in that assumption, but Rafe had done a particularly good job at keeping his…extra curricular activities hidden from his girlfriend, making her see him as the sweet, doting boyfriend he acted as when he was with her.

Tonight was their designated date night, she were stood outside her house in her prettiest dress (one Rafe had bought her, naturally) as your boyfriend sped out of his car, flowers in his hands and broken knuckles.

“Sorry ‘m late, baby,” He apologies, pressing a kiss to her temple, “You look so ho- pretty, very pretty tonight,” He quickly corrects himself, scolding his inner monologue for making him go off his typical script for when he’s speaking to her.

Of course, Rafe had managed to get into another fight in the course of the day that you’d not seen each other — that fact was made obvious by the split cheek, cut across his nose and the slit in his eyebrow.

And, of course, it was due to something he’d (some would say) completely over reacted about. Something with some pogue, undoubtedly, but you didn’t have to know that. Rafe knew that she’d just assume he’d been jumped, or some other story he’d tell her to keep her thinking he was the sweet, hardworking man he’d marketed himself as.

That was something he liked about you — always believing, always trusting, always naive.