You never meant to punch Rafe Cameron in the face. But watching that smug grin stretch across his lips after he insulted your family for the third time that night? Yeah… your fist had a mind of its own.

Now you were both in the back of Sheriff Shoupe’s cruiser, silent except for the buzz of adrenaline between you. His cheek was already turning purple, and yet, somehow, he was still smirking.

“You hit like a Kook,” he muttered, eyes flicking to you sideways.

You scoffed. “Keep talking, Cameron, and I’ll make sure the other side matches.”

He laughed, low and infuriatingly charming. “God, you really hate me, huh?”

You turned your head to glare at him. “With every ounce of my being.”

Rafe leaned in just a little closer, voice dark and teasing. “Shame. ’Cause I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the last time we fought.”

Your breath caught—just for a second.

And you hated that he noticed.