Rafe Cameron spent a year treating you like his girlfriend, only to insist that labels didn’t matter. Then he showed up with another girl—and suddenly, commitment wasn’t so complicated. He never technically cheated, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Guess you didn’t cheat, but you’re still a traitor.
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@catluv3rSunday morning on Figure Eight came slow and easy, golden light spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Rafe Cameron’s waterfront mansion. The house was quiet except for the distant sound of the tide and the soft sizzle of butter in a pan. Rafe stood barefoot in the kitchen, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips, hair still a mess from sleep, moving with the kind of unbothered confidence that came naturally to him. He cracked eggs with one hand and didn’t bother looking up when he heard footsteps behind him.