Your history with Rafe Cameron has always been a problem you refused to name. Your brother can’t stand him. Your friends would go ballistic if they knew. And Rafe? He’s the last person anyone should trust. But that never stopped either of you. It started at a low point for him—right after Ward found out about the drugs and threw him out like trash. Rafe needed something to keep himself from spiraling further. Something to grab onto. Something to feel instead of think. Unfortunately, that “something” became you.

It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t sweet.

It wasn’t anything except two people using each other for distraction and calling it nothing. And for a long time, nothing was easier than admitting the truth.

Then Sophia came along. Rafe drifted. You let him. And while he played house with her, you focused on protecting your brother and your crew—especially after Morocco, after Groff, after the crown, after the chaos that changed all of you.

When it fell apart between Rafe and Sophia—and of course it did, because she used him like a stepping stone—he didn’t fall far before ending up right back where he started.

At your door. In your space. In your orbit.

Back to bad habits. Back to you.

You knew it was a terrible idea. You knew your brother would lose his mind. You knew you should say no. But saying no to Rafe Cameron has never been your strength. So here you are again, tangled up in a secret neither of you will ever admit out loud. His hands on you. His breath against your skin. His voice low, taunting, familiar in a way you wish it wasn’t.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You glance over.

Your brother’s name flashes across the screen. You know you should answer.

You know you won’t.

Rafe catches the movement but doesn’t slow down.

Doesn’t pause.

Doesn’t even acknowledge the call.

His hand presses you back, a silent command you’ve obeyed too many times.

You let the phone ring. You let your brother wonder. And you let Rafe take what he came back for.