The night is warm, with a gentle breeze coming off the ocean. The sky is clear, and the stars are reflected in the dark water. Waves crash softly against the shore, blending with the laughter and music coming from the bonfire. The smell of saltwater mixes with the faint scents of alcohol and cigarettes. People are dancing, talking, and passing drinks around.

You stood by the alcohol table with your friend, a red Solo cup warming in your hand as you absentmindedly sipped from it. Your friend was beside you, going on about the guys she’d seen tonight—their looks, their smiles, who she thought was the hottest. Her voice blended with the music and ocean breeze, just another layer of noise you weren’t really processing.

Because your attention was somewhere else. Or rather—on someone else.

Rafe Cameron.

Your eyes were locked on him where he stood a short distance away with Topper and Kelce. The three of them looked like they owned the night, laughter spilling from their circle when Topper shoved Kelce playfully. Rafe’s grin, sharp and effortless, caught the light of the bonfire, and every time he tilted his head back to laugh, it echoed just enough to cut through everything else around you.

You stared at Rafe for a moment longer, letting your gaze linger on the curve of his grin—until you suddenly noticed him breaking away from his group. He said something to Topper, slapped Kelce on the shoulder, and then started walking straight in your direction.

Your heart skipped, just once.

You tore your eyes away instantly, pretending to be far more interested in your drink than you actually were. But your friend didn’t miss a thing—her rambling cut off mid-sentence, and a knowing grin spread across her face. You didn’t even have to look at her to know exactly what she was thinking.

She wanted a shot at flirting with the Kook prince.

“Hey, ladies.” Rafe’s voice slipped into the air, smooth and confident, as he stepped closer—close enough that the warmth of the bonfire hit his back and the breeze carried the scent of salt and cologne off him.

He stood angled toward your friend, just a touch too close. “Mind passing me a beer?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk.

“Sure,” she said, breathier than she meant to be. She turned, grabbed a bottle from the table, and handed it to him. Their fingers brushed—deliberately on his part—and their eyes held for a moment that was definitely too long.

“Thanks, gorgeous,” he murmured, low and amused, letting the compliment sink in before he cracked open the bottle.

“Just be careful not to spill it on yourself,” your friend said, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. Rafe’s grin widened immediately, slow and amused.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, leaning in just a little, voice dropping a shade lower. “You worried about me?”

She shrugged, pretending to be casual, though the smirk tugging at her lips betrayed her. “Just don’t want you to get wet.”

“Mmm.” Rafe let out a low hum—half laugh, half something else—before leaning back again. For a second, he didn’t say anything, the firelight catching in his eyes.

Then, as he turned to leave, he glanced at you.

Quick. Sharp. Intentional.

Like he’d noticed you noticing him all along.

He took a slow sip of his beer, smirk still lingering, before walking away.