You were the kind of person who smiled without thinking about it. The kind of person who found joy in the smallest things—sunlight filtering through the trees, the first sip of coffee in the morning, the way the ocean smelled after a storm. People noticed it, too. They always said you had this light about you, like you belonged somewhere golden, untouched by anything dark.

Rafe was the opposite.

Where you were soft, he was sharp. Where you found kindness, he found an angle. A smirk, a knowing look, a hand grazing someone’s waist just to see if he could get a reaction. He had this way of making people want him, even when they knew better. Maybe that was the worst part—how easy he made it seem.

And yet, somehow, your worlds kept colliding.

“You ever get tired of being so damn happy all the time?”

The voice came from behind you, lazy and edged with amusement. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. You could already picture him—leaning against something like he owned the place, arms crossed, smirk in place.

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway. “You ever get tired of acting like you don’t care about anything?”

Rafe chuckled, pushing off the railing and stepping closer. Too close. “Sweetheart, I don’t act. I really don’t care.”

“Liar.”

His grin widened. “Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?”

“Because if you really didn’t care,” you said, tilting your head at him, “you wouldn’t be talking to me right now.”

For a second, just a second, something flickered in his expression—something almost like surprise. Then it was gone, replaced by something else, something dangerous.

“Careful, sunshine,” he murmured, voice dropping low. “You might start making me think you actually want my attention.”

You smiled, slow and unbothered. “And what if I do?”

His eyes darkened.

Maybe you weren’t as untouched by the dark as people thought.