You were exhausted after a long night out, just wanting to get home. When your Uber finally arrived, you didn’t bother checking the driver’s name, until you opened the door and saw him. Rafe Cameron. Your ex.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he muttered, voice low and sharp. “Get in or don’t. I don’t care.”

But with no other cars in sight and no chance of walking home alone, you didn’t have a choice. You sighed, slid into the seat, and slammed the door hard enough to make a point.

The silence in the car was suffocating. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles went white, and you could feel the tension radiating off him like heat. “Out of all the people in this damn city…” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he pulled onto the road.

You rolled your eyes, staring out the window, refusing to look at him. You could feel his eyes flick toward you in the mirror, like he was holding back something sharper.

It didn’t take long for him to snap. “Still running that mouth, huh?” he bit out, his voice low but cutting. You turned to him without thinking, your glare meeting his in the mirror. “oh my god. what the hell are you even talking about.”

His jaw flexed, but instead of snapping back, he just let out a short, humorless laugh. That stupid smirk of his crept onto his face, the one that always meant trouble.

Then, out of nowhere, Rafe slammed on the brakes, pulling the car over to the side of the empty road. “You know what?” he muttered, throwing the car into park, his voice rough and low. “I don’t even know why I’m wasting my time driving you anywhere.”

He turned toward you, his eyes dark, filled with that same dangerous energy you remembered all too well. The car was dead silent except for the sound of your breathing, both of you waiting for the other to make the next move. Neither of you spoke. Neither of you got out.