「 ✦ UNSPOKEN COMPLEX ✦ 」

────

SUTTON SAT MOTIONLESS ON THE edge of the bed, her hands clenched into fists on her lap. The conversation with Evan echoed in her head, each word cutting deeper than she wanted to admit. She had known—deep down, she had known—that he wasn't the guy she had built up in her head. But hearing it so bluntly, hearing just how little he actually cared? It left a hollow feeling in her chest that she couldn't quite shake.

She let out a sharp breath and ran a hand through her hair. She needed to move. To get out of the suffocating quiet of the room before the weight of everything crushed her completely.

Slipping on her hoodie, she left without overthinking it, stepping out into the cool night air. The house was quiet, save for the distant hum of the ocean. Her feet carried her without a plan, without purpose—until she nearly ran straight into Rafe.

He was leaning against the railing of the porch, a cigarette dangling from his fingers. He barely blinked when she stopped short, his eyes scanning over her with that frustratingly unreadable expression he always wore.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, his voice rough but not unkind.

Sutton swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep her shoulders squared. "Could ask you the same thing."

Rafe exhaled smoke and tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. "Yeah, but I'm not the one looking like they just got hit by a truck."

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "I'm fine."

Rafe arched a brow, unconvinced. "Right. And I'm a model citizen."

Sutton huffed, shaking her head. "Just drop it, Rafe."

For a moment, he said nothing, just watching her. Then, with a slow exhale, he flicked his cigarette into the grass. "Whatever. Just don't do anything stupid."

She frowned. "Like what?"

He shrugged. "Like go running back to that idiot who clearly doesn't give a damn about you."

Her stomach twisted. He must have heard more than she wanted him to. But instead of pressing, Rafe just gave her one last look before heading inside, leaving Sutton standing there alone with the weight of his words.

────

A couple of days later, Sutton was sprawled on the beach next to Kie and JJ, the sound of the waves rolling in steady and familiar. JJ was messing around with a beer can, occasionally tossing it up and catching it while Kie leaned back on her elbows, soaking in the sun.

"Pope's buried in finals prep," Kie said, rolling her eyes. "Like, I get it, but I think he's taking it to a whole new level."

JJ snorted. "Dude needs to relax. College hasn't even started yet, and he's already stressing himself out."

Sutton smiled faintly, but she wasn't really paying attention. Her thoughts were elsewhere, still tangled in the last few days.

Kie caught the look on her face and nudged her foot. "Alright, spill. What's up with you?"

Sutton hesitated. Then, after a long pause, she said, "I talked to Carl."

JJ sat up a little straighter. "Like, your dad Carl?"

She nodded.

Kie blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Wait—what? When? How?"

Sutton let out a breath, staring out at the ocean. "A couple days ago. I had a fight with my mom, and ran into his girlfriend - Rachel. We talked and I'm crashing at there place."

JJ let out a low whistle. "Damn. Ballsy move."

Kie looked at her carefully. "And? How was it?"

Sutton chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying to find the right words. "We talked. Not about anything deep, really. Just... stuff. The kind of conversations normal people probably have with their dads. It was weird."

Kie studied her, then asked softly, "Do you think you'll stay with him long?"

Sutton swallowed. "I don't know."

JJ exhaled, flopping back onto the sand. "Well, if he screws up, just let me know. I'll take care of it."

Sutton let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "I'll keep that in mind."

Kie squeezed her hand. "Just be careful, okay? You don't have to figure everything out all at once."

Sutton nodded, though the uncertainty still sat heavy in her chest. "Yeah, I know."

Kie didn't look convinced, but she didn't push. Instead, she shifted back onto her elbows, letting the conversation settle.

JJ, on the other hand, wasn't done. "So, what's he like?" he asked, twirling the beer can between his fingers. "Like, does he have a sketchy mustache? Bad dad jokes? Or is he full-blown 'I'm a changed man, let's grab a catch' kind of guy?"

Sutton huffed out a laugh. "No mustache. No dad jokes either. He's... different from what I remember. Calmer, I guess. Less of a mess."

JJ arched a brow. "Low bar."

Kie shot him a look, but Sutton just shrugged. "You're not wrong."

She pulled at a loose thread on her hoodie, her mind drifting back to the last few nights at Carl's place. It was weird being in his space, seeing the way he lived—normal, in a way she hadn't expected. He and Rachel had a routine, a quiet existence that felt miles away from the chaos he used to bring.

"I don't know," Sutton admitted after a moment. "I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop."

Kie frowned. "What do you mean?"

Sutton hesitated before saying, "He's trying. And I want to believe it's real, but I've spent my whole life knowing he's good at disappearing when it matters."

JJ tossed the beer can aside and sat up again, stretching his arms over his head. "Sounds exhausting."

Sutton exhaled sharply. "It is."

Kie nudged her again, this time gentler. "You don't have to figure it all out right now, you know."

Sutton glanced at her, something in her chest loosening just a little. "Yeah."

The three of them fell into a comfortable silence, the ocean rolling in steady and unbothered in front of them.

Sutton's phone buzzed against her thigh. She picked it up, seeing Rachel's name flashing on the screen.

She hesitated for half a second before answering. "Hey."

"Hey, sweetheart," Rachel's voice was warm, casual, like calling Sutton was just second nature. "You coming home for dinner?"

Sutton glanced over at Kie and JJ, both of whom were now watching her with mild curiosity. "Uh, I'm actually with my friends right now."

"Oh, well, bring them over," Rachel said easily. "I made enough for an army."

Sutton blinked, thrown off. She wasn't used to people just... inviting her places without an agenda.

"You sure?" she asked, her voice more hesitant than she intended.

"Of course," Rachel said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. "Carl would love to meet them. And Max will lose his mind over new people."

At the mention of the dog, Sutton felt a little of her tension ease. Scout was an overgrown golden retriever mix with more energy than sense, and for some reason, he adored her.

"You hear that, JJ?" she said, lowering the phone. "There's a dog."

JJ lit up. "Say less. We're going."

Kie arched an eyebrow. "You trust a dog's judgment that much?"

"Dogs don't lie, Kie," JJ said seriously. "If the dog likes them, they're good people."

Sutton rolled her eyes but didn't argue. Instead, she grabbed her stuff and led the way.

────

Carl's place wasn't much, but it was clean, lived-in. When Sutton stepped inside with Kie and JJ, the smell of something hearty filled the air—garlic, roasted vegetables, something rich and savory simmering on the stove. It was the kind of smell that made a house feel like a home, and for a brief, unsettling second, Sutton didn't know what to do with it.

Before she could overthink it, the sound of paws skidding against the hardwood filled the air.

"Max, down—!" Rachel's warning came too late.

A blur of fur came barreling into Sutton, nearly knocking her back a step before she caught her balance. The dog whined happily, pawing at her legs before moving on to Kie and JJ, sniffing them wildly.

JJ immediately dropped to a crouch. "Oh, hell yeah, this is the best decision I've made all week."

Scout responded by licking JJ's entire face, tail wagging so hard his whole body swayed.

"Dude," Kie laughed, watching JJ try to dodge more enthusiastic kisses.

Rachel appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. "Hey, you made it," she said, beaming before turning her attention to Kie and JJ. "And these must be the friends."

JJ, still mid-wrestle with Scout, grinned. "That's us."

Kie gave a polite smile. "Thanks for having us."

Rachel waved them off like it was nothing. "Any friend of Sutton's is always welcome."

Before Sutton could dwell on that, Carl walked in from the back door, his gaze immediately landing on the new arrivals. He looked over Kie and JJ, assessing them in that quiet way of his before finally nodding. "Alright. Who's hungry?"

JJ raised a hand. "I am, sir."

Carl let out a low chuckle. "Sir? Now I feel old."

JJ smirked. "Well, we don't wanna be rude to our host."

Carl gave Sutton a look, like where did you find this one?, but she just shook her head, fighting a smirk of her own.

Rachel ushered them all to the dining table, setting out plates as Carl poured drinks. Scout flopped under the table at Sutton's feet, letting out a happy huff as he settled his head on her shoes.

Sutton sat stiffly at first, unsure of how to act, but as the meal went on, the conversation flowed more easily. JJ had Carl laughing at some ridiculous story about a run-in with the cops— "wrong place, wrong time, I swear"—while Kie talked to Rachel about the best local surf spots.

Sutton mostly listened, half-waiting for something to go wrong, but it didn't. No arguments, no sudden tension, no reason for her to put up her walls. It was unsettling in a way she couldn't quite explain.

At one point, Rachel reached over and refilled Sutton's plate without asking, the gesture so natural that it caught her off guard.

She glanced up, meeting Rachel's gaze.

"Eat," Rachel said gently. "You've had a long day."

Scout nudged Sutton's leg under the table, as if agreeing.

Sutton swallowed hard and nodded. "Yeah. Okay."

For once, she let herself just be.

After dinner, the conversation lingered, easy and unforced. JJ had kicked back in his chair, looking like he belonged there, while Kie helped Rachel clear the table. Carl leaned back, watching them all with a bemused expression, sipping on a beer.

Max had settled at Sutton's feet, his head heavy on her ankle, radiating warmth. Every once in a while, his tail thumped lazily against the floor, like he was completely content.

Rachel reappeared with a plate of cookies, setting them down with a flourish. "Figured we could use something sweet."

JJ's eyes lit up. "I think I love you."

Carl barked out a laugh, shaking his head. "Kid, you're easy to win over."

"Food is my love language," JJ declared, reaching for a cookie.

Kie rolled her eyes but took one too, grinning as she did. "This is actually really good," she admitted after the first bite.

Rachel smirked. "Don't sound so surprised."

Sutton picked at the edge of a cookie, feeling a strange sense of comfort settle over her. This wasn't the kind of scene she ever expected to be part of, not here, not with Carl. But it was... nice. Too nice.

Carl caught her expression and tilted his head slightly. "What's on your mind, kid?"

Sutton blinked, not realizing she'd been caught. She hesitated, then shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Nothing."

Carl didn't look convinced, but he didn't push either. Instead, he took another sip of his beer, watching her for a moment before turning his attention back to JJ, who was already reaching for another cookie.

Scout stretched against Sutton's leg, letting out a satisfied sigh.

Rachel sat down next to Sutton, her voice quieter. "You okay?"

Sutton hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah," she said, almost convincing herself. "I think I am."

Rachel smiled, squeezing her arm gently before turning back to the conversation.

The evening carried on with easy conversation, the kind that felt almost normal—something Sutton wasn't sure she'd ever associate with Carl. JJ and Carl had fallen into an easy back-and-forth, exchanging ridiculous stories, while Kie and Rachel talked about a farmers' market happening that weekend. Scout had moved from Sutton's feet to curl up near Rachel's chair, his tail twitching occasionally in his sleep.

It was almost unsettling, how quickly JJ seemed to warm up to Carl. But that was JJ—he could get along with just about anyone.

"So, wait," JJ said, wiping cookie crumbs from his fingers onto his shorts, "you used to run charters? Like, deep sea fishing charters?"

Carl smirked. "I did a little bit of everything back in the day."

JJ let out a low whistle. "Man, I bet that was wild."

Carl chuckled. "Wild is one way to put it." He tilted his beer bottle in JJ's direction. "Actually, I used to run with your old man back in the day."

Everything in Sutton went still.

JJ's easy grin froze for a fraction of a second before he covered it with a scoff. "No shit?"

Carl nodded, leaning back. "Yeah. Luke Maybank. We used to get into all kinds of trouble together. I'm talking before he had you, before I had Sutton. He was a hell of a guy back then."

Sutton's stomach twisted into a tight knot.

Kie shot her a look, but Sutton couldn't bring herself to meet it. She knew what Kie was thinking—what she was thinking.

Luke Maybank wasn't a name you wanted to hear tied to your father.

JJ, to his credit, didn't let much of his reaction show. He just gave a short laugh, running a hand over the back of his neck. "Yeah, well... guess people change."

Carl took another sip of his beer. "That they do."

Sutton could feel her pulse in her throat, and the comfortable atmosphere of earlier had vanished. Her body was on high alert now, her instincts screaming at her.

Luke Maybank had been involved in all sorts of shady business over the years—running scams, illegal charters, even rumored to have ties with some serious criminals. He wasn't just some washed-up fisherman with a bad temper; he was the kind of guy you didn't cross.

And Carl used to run with him?

Rachel must have sensed the shift in the air, because she stood, wiping her hands on her jeans. "Who wants coffee?"

Kie latched onto the lifeline immediately. "Yes, please."

JJ stretched his arms behind his head, forcing a lazy grin back on his face. "I'd take another beer if we're offering."

Carl laughed. "Now that I can do." He stood, heading for the kitchen.

As soon as he was out of sight, Kie turned to Sutton, her voice low. "What the hell?"

Sutton barely shook her head, her jaw clenched tight. "I don't know."

JJ ran a hand down his face. "Man, that's—uh, that's not exactly the connection I wanted to hear about tonight."

"No kidding," Sutton muttered, her chest tightening.

Scout stirred from his sleep, lifting his head as if sensing the shift in energy.

Rachel reappeared first, setting coffee mugs in front of Kie and Sutton. A few moments later, Carl returned, handing JJ another beer before dropping back into his seat. If he noticed the tension, he didn't say anything.

Instead, he glanced at Sutton. "So," he said, like nothing had changed, "you stickin' around for a while?"

Sutton hesitated.

She wasn't sure anymore.

JJ's knee bounced slightly under the table, his own unease showing through. Kie was watching Sutton carefully, waiting for her response.

Sutton let out a slow breath. "I... don't know yet."

Carl nodded, like he expected that answer. "Fair enough." He leaned back in his chair, gaze flicking between all of them. "Just know, kid... you don't have to run from everything."

Sutton wasn't sure what he meant by that, but something about the way he said it made her feel like he knew exactly what she was thinking.

She swallowed hard, reaching down to scratch behind Scout's ears, grounding herself.

The night wasn't ruined, not completely. But that feeling in her gut—the one telling her this wasn't just a casual revelation—wouldn't go away.

And she knew, deep down, that this wasn't the last time she'd hear about it.

────

A few days later, Sutton found herself back at Carl's place, sprawled out on the back porch while Max napped beside her, his tail occasionally thumping against the wooden planks. The evening was warm, the air thick with salt and humidity, and Rachel was inside making dinner while Carl puttered around, half-watching the news on the small TV in the living room.

Sutton was scrolling through her phone when a notification popped up in the family group chat.

Zach:
Mom's talking about legal custody.

Her stomach dropped.

She sat up quickly, her fingers tightening around the phone as she tapped out a response.

Sutton:
What do you mean?

Olivia:
She's meeting with a lawyer. She wants full custody of Eli, and she's pushing for me and Zach to stay with her too.

Sutton felt her heart hammering against her ribs.

Zach:
She wants you to come home, Sutton.

Sutton let out a breath, staring at the message.

She knew Gabrielle wouldn't just let her staying with Carl slide forever, but custody? That was another level.

Before she could respond, her phone started ringing. It was Zach.

She hesitated for only a second before answering. "Hey."

"Are you serious about this, Sutton?" Zach's voice was tight, annoyed. "You're really staying with him?"

Sutton exhaled, pressing a hand to her forehead. "I don't know, Zach. I just needed space."

"Well, Mom's losing her mind," he said bluntly. "She's freaking out about you and Carl, and now she's talking about taking legal action to make sure Elijah never ends up with him."

Sutton's grip on the phone tightened. "She can't do that."

"She can if she makes the case that he's unfit. Which—let's be real—he is."

Sutton felt something flare in her chest. "You don't even know him, Zach."

"I know enough," Zach shot back. "And I know that we shouldn't be splitting up like this."

Sutton closed her eyes, frustration bubbling up. "I didn't do this to make things harder."

Zach sighed, his tone softening. "Then come home, Sutton."

Before she could respond, Carl stepped onto the porch, a beer in hand. "Everything good?"

Sutton glanced at him, then back at the phone. "I don't know."

Carl studied her for a second before nodding toward the house. "Come inside when you're done."

She waited until he disappeared inside before bringing the phone back to her ear. "I need more time."

Zach was quiet for a moment. Then, finally, he said, "Well, you might not have much."

Sutton swallowed hard. "What does that mean?"

"It means Mom's not waiting around for you to make up your mind. She's already making moves. And if Carl tries to fight back..." Zach trailed off, then sighed. "This whole thing's gonna get ugly."

Sutton felt a pit form in her stomach.

She'd been trying to avoid drama. Trying to figure things out on her own.

But it was clear now—this wasn't just about her anymore.

And whether she liked it or not, the Hayes kids were about to be forced into taking sides.

────

The bonfire was in full swing, flames flickering against the night sky as music pulsed from a speaker stuck in the sand. The Kooks were scattered along the beach, drinking, laughing, and pretending life was nothing but bonfires and money. Sutton sat on the edge of a log, half-listening to Penny talk about some drama at Figure Eight Country Club while Kelc sat beside her, nudging Sutton every few minutes just to mess with her.

"You're, like, zoning out so hard right now," Kelc teased, bumping her shoulder. "Thinking about your boyfriend?"

Sutton shot her a dry look. "He's not my boyfriend."

Penny rolled her eyes but smirked, clearly enjoying the entertainment. "You don't even know who we're talking about."

Kelc snorted. "She's talking about Rafe. "Obviously." Kelc grinned. "You two have had a lot of staring contests lately."

Sutton groaned, shoving her. "Shut up."

Kelc only laughed, but before she could say anything else, Sarah spoke up from where she was curled into Topper's side.

"My dad was talking about your parents the other day," she said casually, swirling her drink in her hand. "Something about the custody battle."

The lightness in Sutton's chest vanished. Her fingers tightened around her cup. "What?"

Sarah shrugged. "Ward was saying how Gabrielle is trying to make sure Carl has zero legal claim on you guys and how your dad is actually fighting it."

Sutton felt a knot twist in her stomach. "He is?"

Sarah nodded. "Yeah. He's trying to get a split where you guys get to pick, other than Eli."

Kelc frowned. "That's... complicated."

"Not really," Topper muttered, taking a sip of his drink. "Your dad's a screw-up. No offense."

Sutton turned to glare at him, opening her mouth to snap back, but Rafe beat her to it.

"That's rich coming from you, T," Rafe drawled, leaning against a cooler. His sharp blue eyes flickered toward Sutton, unreadable. "At least Carl's trying."

Sutton wasn't sure if that was meant to make her feel better or worse.

Penny made a face. "I mean, can you blame Gabrielle? Carl's... well, Carl."

Kelc, for once, didn't have a joke. She nudged Sutton's knee lightly. "So... what does that mean for you?"

Sutton let out a slow breath, staring at the waves, the weight of it all pressing down on her chest.

"It means," she said quietly, "that I don't think I have a choice in this anymore."

For a moment, no one spoke. The fire crackled, the party carried on around them, and Sutton could feel Rafe's gaze on her, watching, waiting.

Like he knew something she didn't.

Sutton exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "It's not as simple as you guys think," she muttered, staring at the fire. "Carl's... different now. He's not who he used to be."

Penny arched a skeptical brow. "Come on, Sutton. The guy disappeared for how long?"

"I know," Sutton admitted, voice steady. "But ever since I've been staying with him and Rachel, it's not like how I remember. He's been sober for a while. He has a job. A house. He doesn't act like—" She stopped, shaking her head. "He doesn't act like a total mess anymore."

Kelc tilted her head. "So, what? You actually think he could be a real dad now?"

Sutton hesitated, feeling everyone's eyes on her. Rafe's, especially. "I don't know," she admitted. "But I know Gabrielle isn't exactly winning Mother of the Year either."

Sarah hummed, tipping her cup in Sutton's direction. "If Carl's really like that now, I'd pick him over Gabrielle any day."

Sutton's brows pulled together. "You would?"

Sarah snorted. "Are you kidding? Gabrielle's insufferable. I don't know how you haven't run away already."

Kelc laughed, and Penny smirked, but Rafe just watched Sutton, quiet.

"She's not that bad," Sutton mumbled, though even she didn't sound convinced.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Come on, she's a total control freak. And if your dad's actually cleaned up his act? Maybe it's not the worst thing to consider."

Penny leaned in. "Would you actually live with him?"

Sutton swallowed, staring at the fire. "I don't know. Maybe."

Rafe finally spoke, his voice low but cutting through the noise. "Zach would never go for that."

Sutton met his gaze, something sharp passing between them. "Zach doesn't get to make this decision for me."

Rafe studied her for a long moment, then smirked slightly, shaking his head. "Guess we'll see."

Sutton didn't like the way he said it, like he knew something she didn't. Like he was already watching the cracks form before she even realized they were there.

The tension between them lingered, unspoken but thick in the air. Sutton could feel Rafe's eyes on her, watching, waiting—like he knew she was bound to crack first.

She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

Instead, she turned back to Penny and Kelc, forcing herself to focus on their conversation, on anything that wasn't Rafe. But he didn't seem ready to let it go just yet.

"Hey, Sutton."

She ignored him.

"Sutton."

Her jaw clenched. "What, Rafe?"

He smirked, knowing exactly how to get under her skin. "Need a ride somewhere."

She scoffed. "And that's my problem why?"

"Because you owe me."

She blinked, tilting her head. "I owe you?"

Rafe stretched back in his chair, completely at ease. "Yeah. For not telling Zach you've been all over me since he's been gone."

Sutton's stomach twisted, but she didn't let it show. Instead, she folded her arms. "Please. You'd love to be the one to stir that pot."

He shrugged. "Maybe. But you don't want me to."

Damn him.

Sutton exhaled through her nose, weighing her options. The last thing she needed was Zach blowing up before she even figured things out for herself.

She shot him a glare. "Where do you need to go?"

Rafe grinned like he'd already won. "Drop me at the docks. Got some business to handle."

"Shocking."

He just smirked, like he found her irritation amusing.

Sutton rolled her eyes and stood. "Let's go before I change my mind."

She turned, heading toward her car, and heard Rafe's footsteps fall in behind her.

And even though she hated herself for it, she could still feel the weight of his stare on her back.

The car ride was quiet at first, the tension stretching thick between them like a live wire. Sutton kept her hands tight on the wheel, her eyes fixed on the road, refusing to glance in Rafe's direction. She could feel him watching her, though, lounging in the passenger seat like he had nowhere else in the world to be.

"You're really gonna pretend like I don't exist the whole ride?" he finally asked, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the silence.

Sutton didn't react, just kept her gaze ahead. "I'm focusing on driving."

Rafe huffed a quiet laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Right. Gotta concentrate real hard for that."

She gritted her teeth. "Why don't you just sit there and enjoy your free ride, Rafe?"

"Could be enjoying it more." His voice dipped lower, teasing, laced with something else.

Sutton flicked her eyes toward him just for a second—big mistake. He was sprawled out, one arm resting on the center console, his fingers dangerously close to her thigh. He wasn't even doing anything, but there was something about the way he carried himself, the lazy smirk tugging at his lips, like he knew exactly how much he got under her skin.

She forced herself to look away, shifting in her seat. "What, you want me to put on music? You need a drink? Snacks? You think this is some five-star chauffeur service?"

Rafe chuckled. "Nah, I'm good. But, y'know, could use some entertainment."

She shot him a glare. "Not my problem."

"C'mon, Sutton," he drawled, his voice like silk and trouble. "You're always so tense around me."

Sutton scoffed. "Gee, wonder why."

His fingers drummed against the console, his knee brushing hers just slightly when she hit a turn. "Maybe 'cause you don't trust yourself."

She stiffened. "Excuse me?"

Rafe turned his head fully toward her now, and she hated the way she could feel the heat of his stare on the side of her face. "You heard me."

Sutton clenched her jaw. "You really are delusional."

He just grinned. "Am I?"

His voice was infuriatingly confident, like he knew she was lying, like he could see through the cracks she was trying so hard to keep sealed.

The car slowed as she pulled up near the docks.

"Here," she muttered, gripping the wheel tighter. "Now get out."

Rafe didn't move right away. Instead, he leaned in slightly, his shoulder brushing hers. "Don't miss me too much, yeah?"

Sutton exhaled sharply, willing herself not to react, not to let him win. "Get. Out."

Rafe chuckled, shaking his head as he pushed open the door. He stepped out, then bent down, one arm resting against the open window.

"Appreciate the ride, Hayes." His smirk was maddening, his eyes flickering with something unreadable.

Sutton glared at him. "Go to hell."

Rafe just winked before slamming the door shut.

Sutton let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, gripping the wheel even tighter as she watched him walk away.

God, he was infuriating.

Even worse?

She hated how much he got to her.

Sutton had just shifted the car into reverse when a sharp knock at her window made her jump. She snapped her head to the side, expecting Rafe—but instead, she found herself staring at a guy she'd never seen before.

He was around Rafe's age, tall and lean, with dark, messy hair and an easy smirk. Tattoos covered his arms, disappearing under the sleeves of his fitted t-shirt, and there was something about the way he carried himself—relaxed, confident, like he was used to getting what he wanted.

Sutton hesitated before rolling the window down just slightly. "Can I help you?"

The guy leaned against the door, his arms crossing over the edge of the window. "Didn't mean to startle you," he said smoothly. "Just—couldn't help but notice you."

Sutton raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Yeah? Well, I was just leaving."

His smirk widened. "Shame. You got a name?"

Sutton debated lying, but something about the way he was looking at her made her hold her ground. "Sutton."

"I'm Wes," he introduced himself, his voice lazy and self-assured. "You from around here?"

She hesitated. "Something like that."

Wes let out a low chuckle, tilting his head slightly. "That's mysterious. I like it."

Before Sutton could respond, a door slammed behind her, and she caught movement in her side mirror.

Rafe.

He was striding back out from the docks, his posture tense, his expression dark.

Great.

"Sutton," Rafe called, his tone sharp as he came up behind Wes, his presence practically looming.

Wes barely reacted. If anything, his smirk grew. "Rafe," he drawled, not even bothering to turn around. "Didn't know you were in town."

"What the hell do you want?" Rafe's voice was low, controlled—but there was an edge to it, something dangerous brewing beneath the surface.

Wes finally turned, eyeing Rafe with something close to amusement. "Relax, man. Just talking to your friend here."

Rafe's jaw tensed. "She's not your type."

Sutton scoffed at that, rolling her eyes. "Oh, please."

Wes glanced at her, grinning. "See? She doesn't seem to mind."

Rafe stepped in closer, his voice dropping. "She's not interested."

Sutton arched a brow. "Pretty sure I can speak for myself, Rafe."

That clearly pissed him off. His eyes flicked to hers, something possessive flashing behind them. "Don't waste your time."

Wes just laughed, shaking his head. "Man, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to claim her." He looked back at Sutton, amused. "That what's happening here?"

Sutton rolled her eyes. "Not in a million years."

Rafe's jaw clenched, but he didn't say anything.

Wes pulled out his phone, unlocking it before handing it over. "Here," he said. "Since your friend here seems to think he calls the shots—you can decide for yourself."

Sutton didn't hesitate. She grabbed the phone, punching in her number before handing it back.

Rafe exhaled sharply, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "You've gotta be kidding me."

Wes chuckled as he glanced at his screen. "Appreciate it, Sutton." He gave her a wink, then shot a look back at Rafe. "See you around, Cameron."

With that, he strolled off, completely unfazed.

Sutton turned back to Rafe, her arms crossing over her chest. "Problem?"

Rafe's glare was scorching. "Yeah. Big one."

Sutton smirked, putting the car back into gear. "Sounds like a you problem."

The air inside the car was thick with tension, charged in a way that made Sutton hyper-aware of every breath she took. She gripped the wheel tighter, keeping her eyes locked on the road, refusing to look at Rafe. She could feel him watching her—waiting, pushing, playing.

It didn't take long.

"Didn't take you for the type to go for guys like that," Rafe drawled, stretching out in the passenger seat, his voice laced with amusement.

Sutton rolled her eyes. "Oh, really? And what type is that?"

Rafe smirked, his fingers grazing the center console. "You know—sketchy, shady, probably up to his neck in illegal shit." He shifted slightly, the movement deliberate. "Unless that's your thing now."

Sutton scoffed. "You're one to talk."

Rafe chuckled, low and knowing. "Exactly. And trust me, princess—you don't want to get caught up with someone like him."

She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Oh, please. You don't get to tell me who I should or shouldn't be around."

Rafe hummed, tapping his fingers lazily on his thigh. "You gave him your number pretty fast."

Sutton clenched her jaw. "So?"

"So," Rafe mused, shifting closer, "either you're actually interested, or you just wanted to piss me off." His voice dipped lower. "And we both know which one it was."

Sutton's grip on the wheel tightened.

"You think everything is about you," she muttered.

Rafe smirked. "No, I think you love getting a rise out of me."

Before she could fire back, she felt it—his hand, warm and steady, dragging slow and deliberate along her upper thigh.

Her breath hitched.

Rafe noticed.

His fingers traced a lazy pattern over the fabric of her shorts, the touch featherlight but impossible to ignore.

Sutton swallowed hard, her skin burning under his touch. "Stop."

Rafe hummed. "You don't sound like you mean that."

Her pulse jumped as his hand lingered, his thumb grazing the inside of her thigh, just enough to make her grip the steering wheel harder.

"Rafe," she warned, but it came out breathier than she wanted.

His smirk deepened. "Yeah?"

Sutton exhaled sharply, pressing her foot harder on the gas, needing to put distance between them—between whatever this was.

Rafe just laughed, his hand dragging away with an infuriating slowness. "Where's the fire, Haynes? Running from something?"

She clenched her jaw. "I should drop you off right here."

Rafe leaned back, watching her with dark amusement. "Then do it."

She didn't.

And they both knew why.

"You didn't have to give him your number," Rafe said finally, his voice tight. "You know I don't like it."

Sutton glanced at him, her lips pressing into a thin line. "And why is that, Rafe? Because you're afraid someone else might actually treat me right?"

He scoffed, his gaze flicking to her before returning to the road. "Don't act like you don't know why. You did it to get under my skin, didn't you?"

She shrugged, her heart racing. "Maybe. Maybe I just wanted to see how you'd react."

Rafe's hand shot out, his fingers brushing her thigh in a deliberate, provocative move. "Is this what you wanted?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "Because you've got my attention now."

Sutton's breath hitched, her body responding despite her best efforts to resist. "Rafe, don't—"

"Don't what?" he interrupted, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. "Tell me to stop? Or beg me to keep going?"

She tried to pull away, but his grip was firm, his touch sending shivers down her spine. "You're crossing a line," she said, her voice trembling.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear. "And you're not stopping me," he murmured. "If you really wanted me to stop, you'd pull over and let me out. But you're not going to do that, are you?"

Sutton's heart pounded in her chest, her body caught between resistance and desire. She knew she should tell him to stop, but the truth was, she didn't want him to. Not really. The tension between them had been building for months, and now it was boiling over, raw and urgent.

His hand moved higher, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of her skirt. "Tell me to stop, Sutton," he challenged, his voice a rough whisper. "Just say the word, and I'll let you go."

She bit her lip, her eyes closing as his touch sent waves of heat through her. "I—I can't," she admitted, her voice barely audible.

Rafe's lips curved into a smirk, his confidence growing. "That's what I thought."

He shifted in his seat, his hand moving boldly, his fingers tracing the lace of her underwear. Sutton gasped, her hands tightening on the wheel as her body arched toward him. The car seemed to shrink around them, the confined space amplifying the intimacy of the moment.

"Rafe," she whispered, her voice pleading. "Not here. Someone might see."

"Let them," he growled, his breath hot against her neck. "Let them see what they're missing."

His lips found hers, hungry and demanding, his tongue slipping past her lips to taste her deeply. Sutton moaned, her resistance crumbling as she kissed him back, her hands tangling in his hair. The car swerved slightly, but neither of them cared, their focus entirely on each other.

Rafe's hand moved between her legs, his fingers slipping inside her damp panties. "You're so wet," he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with desire. "You want this, don't you?"

Sutton nodded, her body trembling with need. "Yes," she whispered. "Please."

He didn't need to be asked twice. His fingers slid deeper, his thumb pressing against her clit as he teased her, his touch both gentle and firm. Sutton's head fell back, her moans filling the car as her body responded to his skilled touch.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice dark and seductive. "Let go, Sutton. Let me feel you come apart."

She was teetering on the edge, her body coiled tight with anticipation. Rafe's touch was relentless, his fingers moving in rhythmic circles that sent her spiraling toward the edge. The car's engine hummed softly in the background, a faint reminder of the world outside, but Sutton was lost in the moment, her senses overwhelmed by Rafe's touch and the forbidden nature of their encounter.

"Rafe," she gasped, her voice breaking. "I'm close—"

"Come for me," he commanded, his voice a rough whisper. "Let me feel it."

Her body shattered, her orgasm ripping through her like a tidal wave. She cried out, her hands gripping his wrist as she rode the waves of pleasure, her body trembling uncontrollably. Rafe held her steady, his touch firm and reassuring as he guided her through the intensity of her release.

When she finally came down, Sutton was breathless, her body limp against the seat. Rafe leaned back, his expression satisfied yet intense, his gaze never leaving hers.

The air in the car was thick, heavy with the lingering heat between them. Sutton sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed tightly over her chest as she stared out the window, her skin still burning from where Rafe had touched her.

She shouldn't have let it happen.

She knew better.

Beside her, Rafe was still leaned back in the driver's seat, one hand draped lazily over the steering wheel, the other resting on his thigh. He looked completely unbothered, like what they'd just done in the backseat of his car was nothing more than a casual pastime, something to fill the silence.

Sutton clenched her jaw, her pulse still racing for reasons she didn't want to acknowledge. She needed to get out of there, to put distance between them before she did something stupid—like let this happen again.

She exhaled sharply and grabbed the door handle. "That's not happening again."

Rafe let out a low hum, like he barely even heard her. "Mmm?"

She turned toward him, her voice firmer this time. "I said, that's not happening again."

That got his attention.

Rafe's smirk was slow, lazy, the kind that made her stomach tighten even though she hated him for it. He tapped his fingers against the wheel, eyeing her like he was waiting for her to crack.

"Sure," he said, nodding once. "Whatever you say, Haynes."

She narrowed her eyes, her grip tightening around the door handle. "I'm serious."

His smirk deepened. "Yeah? And why's that?"

Sutton scoffed, shaking her head. "Because I'm not one of your Kook whores, Rafe."

That made him laugh. A real, full-bodied laugh that sent heat crawling up her neck. He dragged a hand through his already-messy hair, still grinning as he leaned his head back against the seat.

"You're right," he finally said, voice low and amused. "You're not."

For a split second, something twisted in her stomach—something that almost felt like relief.

Until he kept going.

"Because the difference is, I wouldn't be seen with you."

The words landed like a slap.

Sutton felt the breath stall in her throat, but she forced herself to keep her expression blank. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her flinch.

She let out a short, sharp laugh instead, tilting her head. "Yeah? You didn't seem to care about that ten minutes ago."

Rafe licked his lips, his gaze dragging over her—slow, lazy, like he was committing her to memory. Like he owned her.

"That's the thing, Haynes," he murmured, voice all smug satisfaction. "I don't have to be seen with you to get what I want."

Her stomach curled in fury.

She yanked the door open, the night air rushing in, cooling her overheated skin. She needed to leave before she said something she'd regret—before she let him pull her back into whatever this was.

But just as she stepped out, Rafe's voice stopped her cold.

"See you around."

She didn't look back.

Sutton slammed the car door harder than necessary, her heart hammering in her chest as she stormed away. She needed space, air—anything to shake the feeling of Rafe's touch still lingering on her skin, the weight of his words pressing down on her like a brand.

I wouldn't be seen with you.

Her jaw clenched. She should hate him. She did hate him.

So why did she still feel the heat of his stare following her even now?

Her hands curled into fists as she took another step, but before she could get too far, she heard the car door swing open behind her, followed by the heavy thud of boots against the pavement.

"Sutton."

His voice—low, commanding—sent a shiver down her spine, but she didn't stop. She didn't trust herself to.

"Sutton." This time, his tone sharpened.

A second later, a strong hand wrapped around her wrist, spinning her around before she could even think to pull away.

She gasped, colliding against his chest, the scent of him—smoke, leather, and something decadent—flooding her senses.

"What?" she snapped, but it came out weaker than she intended.

Rafe didn't answer right away. He just looked at her. Studied her. Like he was trying to figure something out.

Then, his grip on her wrist softened, fingers trailing slowly down her arm in a way that made her breath catch.

"You can be pissed at me all you want," he murmured, his voice a hushed rasp, rough at the edges. "You can pretend you hate me. But we both know you don't."

She swallowed hard, willing herself not to react—to not lean into him like every nerve in her body was begging her to.

Instead, she scoffed, shaking her head. "You really think that, don't you?"

Rafe hummed, his fingers brushing along the inside of her wrist now, tracing the delicate skin there. "I know it."

Her pulse betrayed her, racing under his touch, but she yanked her hand back, stepping away. "Go to hell, Rafe."

He smirked, stepping forward, closing the distance just as quickly as she had created it. "Already there, sweetheart."

His hands found her waist, rough fingertips grazing the hem of her shirt, teasing. "But you..." He tilted his head, eyes dark and intense. "You keep coming back."

Her breath hitched, her body reacting before her mind could catch up.

And he noticed. Of course he did.

His smirk softened—just barely—as he leaned in, lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Say you don't want me, and I'll let you go."

Sutton's throat went dry.

She should say it. She should end this.

But the words wouldn't come.

Rafe pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, waiting. Expecting. Daring her.

Seconds stretched. The night air hummed with something electric.

Then, before she could stop herself, she was grabbing him—fisting the collar of his shirt, pulling him down, crashing her lips against his like it was the only thing she'd ever wanted.

Rafe groaned against her mouth, his hands tightening on her waist as he yanked her closer, kissing her like he was starving for it.

Like he was starving for her.

It was desperate, messy, and so full of need it made her dizzy.

His hands slid down, gripping her hips, pulling her flush against him. Sutton gasped into the kiss, and Rafe took advantage of it, deepening it, swallowing her sounds like he owned them.

Maybe he did.

Maybe that was the problem.

But right now, Sutton didn't care. Not when Rafe was kissing her like this—like she was something he couldn't walk away from either.

Sutton stormed away from the car, her heels digging into the gravel as she fought to push down the bitter sting of Rafe's words. She shouldn't care. She knew who he was—what he was. This was just a game to him. He played with her like a cat with a mouse, and she let him, every single time.

She made it a few steps before she heard the car door slam behind her.

"Sutton."

She kept walking.

"Sutton, stop."

His voice wasn't sharp this time. It wasn't dripping with that smug arrogance he used like a shield. It was rough, strained—like he wasn't used to sounding anything but in control.

She froze, not turning around.

The gravel crunched under his boots as he stepped closer, stopping just behind her. She could feel the heat of him, the way his presence settled over her like a weight.

"I don't—" He exhaled hard, frustrated. "I don't date."

Sutton let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head. "Yeah, Rafe. You've mad that obvious."

His fingers brushed against her wrist, hesitant. "That's not what I—" He let out a sharp breath. "I don't do the whole relationship thing, alright? It's never been my thing. But that doesn't mean I don't—"

She finally turned, meeting his gaze. His face was tight, his jaw locked like he was physically forcing himself to say the words.

"I care about you," he admitted, the words tasting foreign on his tongue.

Sutton's chest tightened.

She wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that there was something real buried underneath all the mind games and mixed signals. But how could she?

He was her brother's best friend.

Her sister was obsessed with him.

And worst of all, he was Rafe Cameron.

"You care about me?" she repeated, arching a brow. "That's rich, coming from the guy who just told me he wouldn't be seen with me."

Rafe cursed under his breath, dragging a hand down his face. "You know that's not what I meant."

"Do I?" Sutton challenged. "Because it kinda seems like you just want to keep me a secret. Have me when it's convenient, then go back to playing the perfect Kook prince when it's not."

His lips parted like he was about to argue, but nothing came out.

And that was enough of an answer.

Sutton's throat burned, but she lifted her chin, refusing to let him see even a flicker of weakness.

"I'm done, Rafe." Her voice was steady. Strong. "You don't get to screw with my head anymore."

She turned on her heel and walked away, ignoring the way her heart screamed at her to look back.

She didn't.

And this time, Rafe didn't follow.

Sutton barely made it a few steps before she heard him move. His boots scraped against the gravel, and then suddenly, he was there—grabbing her wrist, spinning her around.

She sucked in a sharp breath, her heart slamming against her ribs as she found herself face-to-face with him, the space between them practically nonexistent.

His grip on her wrist was firm but not rough. His chest rose and fell unevenly, like he was at war with himself. Like he didn't want to let her go, but knew he probably should.

"Sutton." His voice was raw, barely above a whisper.

She didn't speak, couldn't speak.

Her eyes searched his, and for the first time, there was no smugness, no calculated teasing. Just something real—something she didn't know if she was ready to name.

He lifted a hand, brushing his knuckles along her cheek, like he was testing to see if she'd pull away.

She didn't.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said hoarsely, his thumb tracing the corner of her jaw.

Sutton's breath caught.

It was a simple sentence, but coming from him, it felt heavier than it should.

Because Rafe Cameron wasn't the type to admit things like that.

He wasn't the type to chase after someone.

He wasn't the type to be gentle.

But right now, with her, he was all of those things.

Before she could overthink it, before she could remind herself of all the reasons she should walk away, he kissed her.

And God—God—it was nothing like before.

It wasn't hurried, wasn't laced with frustration or desperation. It was slow, deliberate.

Like he wanted her to feel it.

Like he wanted her to know that this wasn't just some reckless impulse.

Sutton melted against him before she could stop herself, her fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt.

He groaned softly at the contact, deepening the kiss, his hands sliding down to her waist, pulling her closer, like he was afraid she might slip through his fingers.

She kissed him back, tilting her head, matching his slow, aching intensity.

And for just a moment—just one stolen, impossible moment—none of the other stuff mattered.

Not Olivia.

Not Zach.

Not the tangled mess of feelings she shouldn't have for him.

It was just them.

When they finally broke apart, Rafe rested his forehead against hers, his breaths uneven.

Sutton's heart was hammering so hard she was sure he could feel it.

His fingers tightened slightly on her waist, like he wasn't ready to let go.

"I mean it," he murmured. "I don't want to hurt you."

Sutton swallowed hard, her hands still resting against his chest.

She wanted to believe him.

But Rafe Cameron had been hurting her for years, and he didn't even know it.