The Outer Banks had always been a place of secrets, where lies tasted like salt on your lips and love burned like the summer sun—too hot, too dangerous, too impossible to hold onto for long.

She knew better than to get involved with Rafe Cameron.

He was a beautiful lie wrapped in smooth words and sharper edges, the kind of trouble you saw coming from a mile away but still let pull you under. And God, had she let him pull her under.

It started with stolen glances, whispers in the dark, hands gripping too tight like they were afraid to let go. She had told herself it was just a game, just something to pass the time before she left this town behind for good.

But Rafe? He played to win.

That’s why it stung when she saw him with her. Another girl, another beautiful lie spilling from his lips, the same ones he had pressed against her skin just the night before.

She should have known.

She did know.

And yet, when he found her later, standing at the edge of the docks, she didn’t walk away.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice low, almost pleading.

“Don’t what?” she asked, turning to face him.

“Don’t believe what you think you saw.”

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “That’s the thing, Rafe. I don’t think I saw anything. I know exactly what I saw.”

He stepped closer, and for a second, she let herself forget. Forget that he was the villain in this story. Forget that his hands had traced another girl the way they had traced her. Forget that no matter how much he swore he cared, it would never be enough to make him hers.

“Does it matter?” he asked, his voice softer now, like he already knew the answer.

That was the worst part.

It shouldn’t.

But it did.