You and Rafe started fake dating because his ex, Sofia, wouldn’t stop trying to get him back.

Apparently, she couldn’t take the hint that it was over—probably because Rafe dumped her after finding out she cheated on him with a Pogue.

So, when he showed up asking to pretend to be his girlfriend just to get Sofia off his back, you agreed.

Not because you liked him or anything.

No, you agreed because the idea of Sofia’s face turning red with jealousy when she saw the two of you together was almost too good to pass up.

At first, it was easy.

You’d hold hands at parties, let him drape an arm around your shoulders, and throw in a few laughs here and there when people were watching.

It wasn’t real, and you made sure to remind yourself of that every single time he flashed you one of his smirks or leaned in a little too close.

But then .. it started to feel different.

He’d text you just to ask how your day was going. He’d walk you to your car, even when nobody was around to see it. He started memorizing the little things about you, like how you hate olives on pizza or how you can’t fall asleep without music playing.

And the worst part? You let yourself fall for it.

One night, after a party where you and Rafe played the perfect couple, you sat on his couch at Tannyhill. He was scrolling through his phone, looking entirely too relaxed, while you were busy spiraling in your own head.

“Don’t get any ideas, Cameron.” you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

“What ideas?” he asked, glancing at you with a lazy smirk.

You shook your head, crossing your arms. “Never mind.”

Rafe leaned back, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Relax, sweetheart. You’re not catching feelings, are you?”

Your stomach dropped, but you kept your face neutral. “Of course not.” you said, trying to sound convincing.

But Rafe just grinned, that infuriating, knowing grin that made your heart race and your head spin.

“Good,” he said. “Because I’m definitely not falling for you either.”

Liar.