Chapter Text
Let Me Guess,
You're Not Leaving
By DramioneShipperz
Disclaimer: I do not own Outer Banks or its characters; they belong to Netflix. All original writing here is mine. Please do not repost, copy, or use any part of this work. Use AO3’s bookmark feature if you’d like to share. Per AO3 policy, fanwork creators retain rights to their original content.
Warnings: Reader discretion is advised. This fic is rated E for past substance abuse and explicit sexual content. This chapter has adult themes. Please keep this in mind while reading.
Nothing depicted here is meant to romanticize or condone harmful behavior. It’s a work of fiction, not glorification.
Visuals: All photos and GIFs are from Pinterest.
Chapter One
“I’m outside your window
I’m outside your door
You’ve never been this lonely
Oh, I’ve never been this down before and it shows
Killing me so gently
Hands wrapped around my throat
Choking me so slowly
Slicing every word down to the floor…”
You Can Be So Cruel by Royal Blood
Kie's POV
Kiara maneuvered her way through the packed tram towards the open door and stepped onto the sidewalk. Taking in the colorful buildings adorned with iron balconies, she tugged her bag onto her shoulder and walked through the city center. When she reached her workplace, Kie looked up at the sign that read ‘The Limbrey Conservation’ before entering.
As a child, Kie dreamed of leaving the Outer Banks. All she wanted to do was make music, surf in different countries, and get involved in environmental work to protect the Earth. She couldn’t sit by, watching Kooks take advantage of Pogues. So the moment she got accepted for a summer internship abroad with Carla Limbrey, she took it.
Setting her backpack down beside her desk, Kie glanced at her monitor and noticed a bright yellow Post-it note stuck to the screen.
Carla wants to meet before you leave for today’s clean-up — Renfield
With a quick glance around the busy office, she headed down the hall, listening to the soft hum of conversations and clicking keyboards from her co-workers. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she peeled the note off her computer.
Kie reached the corner office and gently knocked. Inside sat her boss, Carla, who looked up from her paperwork with a warm smile.
"Kiara, come in," she invited and Kie stepped inside, noticing the neat stack of folders, a well-organized workspace.
"How are you?" Carla asked, leaning back in her chair with a genuine interest in her voice.
Kie felt a brief flicker of uncertainty but returned the smile, albeit a little confused.
"I’m fine," she replied, averting her gaze momentarily to gather her thoughts. "I found this at my desk."
She held up the Post-it, watching as Carla’s expression shift slightly—a nervous laugh escaping.
"Yes, I see you found Renfield’s note," Carla hummed, tucking a section of her blonde hair behind her ear, a habitual gesture that only happened when something was wrong. "There was something important that I wanted to discuss with you. Please, have a seat."
Shutting the door behind her, Kie made her way to the chair in front of Carla’s desk.
"As you know, we’ve been reviewing our budget closely this week since it is the end of the fiscal year. Unfortunately, we ran into an issue with the funding we originally set aside for our interns, which, as you know, includes you."
Leaning forward slightly with her elbows on her knees, she tried not to think about the way her stomach twisted.
But hearing those words made it feel like she was afloat in the ocean without anything to hold onto.
"Okay. And what does that mean exactly?" Kie asked, her voice steadier than she felt, trying to suppress the urge to fidget as her knee bounced involuntarily.
Carla let out a sigh as Kie noticed the empathetic pull at her mouth, eyes soft with hesitation
"I’m really sorry, Kiara. This means we cannot continue your summer internship here at the Lisbon office." The finality of Carla's statement hung in the air. "In the next month or two, we will have permanent positions opening. However, until then, you will need to transfer back to the Kildare office starting Monday."
Leaving the Outer Banks at some point was always part of the plan, but going back and facing everything she left behind—it felt like pressure collapsing on her chest.
Their conversation blurred into white noise. And the second Kie stepped out of Carla’s office, she pulled out her phone to book a one-way ticket back home. The past two months in Lisbon had felt like a dream. But sometimes, dreams end.
Small shops dotted the roadside in Kildare leading towards Figure 8. From the backseat of the Uber, Kie tapped her fingers lightly on her thigh, contemplating whether she should’ve told anyone she was coming home. But she shook her head, quickly dismissing the thought. It wasn’t like there would’ve been a welcome party even if she had.
Sarah and John B were currently soaking in the sun in the Bahamas at her family’s summer house—their first getaway as a couple. And here Kie was back on the island with no one to even tell she was home.
The thought made her suck her teeth. Because even though Kie had spent the past two months in Lisbon for her internship, she wished she were still there.
She remembered Sarah telling her Pope was still in Kildare, helping at his family’s seafood shop. Which sounded about right. Though the chances he'd hear her out were pretty low, even she knew that.
The ocean rolled in soft waves as they crossed the bridge into the heart of the north side of the island.
Over a month ago, Kie saw a random story posted online that JJ was thousands of miles away in Australia on a solo surfing trip. She couldn't help but feel a little pissed off that the dumbass couldn’t wait till next summer so they could go together.
Kie watched the familiar boats heading toward the Figure 8 docks through her window, she thought about her last conversations with the Pogues before she left for Lisbon. Those moments still left a bitter taste in her mouth. But she got the message loud and clear.
As her Uber driver turned onto her street, she decided she would talk to Pope tomorrow.
For now, the only thing she wanted to think about was lighting a joint and soaking in a bath after her twelve-hour flight. Maybe she would even pull out her soft purple vibrator tucked inside the bottom drawer of her nightstand. It had been far too long since she had indulged and today seemed like the perfect opportunity.
For the next twenty-four hours, Kie was determined not to think about anything stressful.
The brakes of her Uber whined as the car rolled to a stop just in front of her and Sarah’s shared condo. She thanked her driver and grabbed her bags.
As the car drove away, Kie noticed a black Range Rover Sport parked along the side of the street. It reminded her of Sarah’s older brother, Rafe Cameron, considering he had the same car. She wondered if her neighbors had a visitor or maybe got a new car.
Kie hadn’t thought about Rafe in a while, probably during one of her conversations with Sarah. Something about Ward lecturing Rafe over something he had done. She often heard their arguments during her freshman year at the Kook Academy.
Every summer since she was in middle school, she basically lived at Tannyhill with the Cameron family. It had been a second home to her before she moved out with Sarah into their shared condo together.
Closing the front door behind her, Kie sighed when she heard the soft click of the lock. She dropped her luggage down with a thump and immediately noticed moving boxes stacked haphazardly in the sitting room. Her backpack clunked on the kitchen table as she set it down.
With furrowed brows, she looked at a silver laptop in front of her. Considering Sarah's dusty blue MacBook, she knew this one didn’t belong to either of them.
That’s weird…
Curiosity piqued, Kie grabbed the box cutter from the clutter on the counter and opened the closest box. Inside, she looked through the neatly folded T-shirts, polos, and sweaters. Definitely not John B’s usual. Her eyes flicked towards the back rooms.
Kie made her way down the hallway, still holding the box cutter. She was probably crazy and overthinking things, but she had to be sure. Passing by the coat closet and the bathroom, she reached Sarah’s room and peeked inside. Everything appeared perfectly normal, the bed made and the desk organized.
Moving further down the hallway, a faint, familiar smell drifted into her senses. The unmistakable scent of weed—her weed to be specific.
She stopped just outside her own room, taking a breath to steady herself. Instantly, Kie saw her dresser and nightstand drawers were open, and the closet door was slightly ajar. Even her bedding looked disturbed, rumpled as if someone had been lounging there.
Just then, a clattering noise echoed from the guest room. She pressed her thumb against the box cutter's lock, sliding the blade out. Her grip tightened as she approached the door. Right as she reached for the handle, a sudden turn of the doorknob made her jump. She yelped as the door swung open.
In the doorway stood Rafe Cameron, her best friend and roommate’s older brother. He wore a black tank and a matching cap turned backward, paired with typical golf shorts most Kook guys wore.
"Jesus Christ," he cursed under his breath, stumbling back a step.
A faint haze of smoke lingered behind him in the room. Clearly, the dumbass had taken her weed.
"What are you doing here, Rafe?" Kie asked, clutching the knife tightly as she recalled the last time she'd seen him—wasted on the beach nearly three months ago.
"Me? Aren’t you supposed to be out of the country for a fuckin’ internship or something?" He asked with a sneer.
"Not that it’s any of your business," she replied, shaking her head, "but there was a funding issue, so I had to come home early. Now, answer my question. Why the hell are you in my condo?"
"Funding issue," he said to himself, adjusting the backward cap. Then he shook his head, disbelief etched across his face. "You’ve gotta be kidding me."
"Are you seriously acting like me being back is the issue here?" Kie scoffed.
His audacity felt suffocating, but then again, that wasn’t new.
"Yeah, it is. ‘Cause Sarah and I made a deal. And you being here isn’t a part of that deal, Kiara. So don’t give me that look like you’re the one who should be upset here. I’m the one who’s gonna get screwed," he said, aggressively tapping his chest.
"You and Sarah made a deal. She made a deal with you?" She laughed in disbelief. "Yeah, okay, Rafe. Let’s give ‘Sarah’ a call then."
"Go ahead. Call her. If you don’t believe me, look at the agreement we signed." He gave her a mocking frown and started towards the other side of the house with her trailing reluctantly behind. When they got to the kitchen, he pulled some papers from under his laptop and handed them to her. "Here."
Kie quickly snatched the papers.
The document titled: Roommate Agreement.
Her eyes scanned the text, moving down the page. Her brows furrowed.
In black ink, she saw that Rafe was officially their third roommate. Her nose scrunched, realizing he would occupy what had been the guest bedroom.
But it was section seven that really caught her attention.
—
Roommate #1, Sarah Cameron, agrees to pay Roommate #3, Rafe Cameron, $120,336.00.
Payment due after Roommate #1's 21st birthday once there is access to a trust fund.
—
"There. Now, can you please give me the box cutter?" He asked, sitting down in a chair as she tore her eyes from the page. "I’d really prefer not to be stabbed."
"Yeah, I’m not giving you the knife," she replied, as her eyes shifted back to the document, seeing Sarah and Rafe’s signatures at the bottom.
"You can relax, Kie. I'm not gonna do anything," he said, his voice softer.
"Isn’t that what you told Pope and JJ before you jumped them with your shitty Kook friends last summer?" She wondered, her eyes narrowing as she glanced at him over the paper.
"No, no, that’s not what happened," he replied, pushing himself to his feet and stepping towards her. "You act like I’m the bad guy when your boys were the ones that were starting shit at the break."
"Not wrong, actually. The whole town knows you’re an asshole, Rafe," she huffed, lowering the papers to look at him. "You’re an entitled Kook looking to do dumb shit like starting fights with Pogues ‘cause you’re bored or triggered."
"Oh, so when I stand up for myself it’s ‘cause I’m bored or triggered. But when your boys do it, it’s ‘cause big bad Rafe Cameron’s goin’ after them," he scoffed, dismissively waving his hand towards her. "No. Last summer at the break, they went after Topper with a gun. Alright. But since you wanna be one of them so badly, Kie… then leave."
Kie blinked, her eyebrows raising slightly as an amused frown settled on her face.
She pointed her finger at her own chest and tried to suppress a laugh.
"I’m sorry. Are you seriously suggesting I need to leave my house right now?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I am." He shifted his backwards cap and shrugged nonchalantly.
Kie couldn’t help but stare at him, her mouth lifting with incredulous amusement.
"That’s not happening," she scoffed and walked towards the back rooms.
Behind her, she could hear the soft footsteps of Rafe following her.
Stopping beside her bedroom doorway, she turned to tell him to stop following her. But before she could lecture him, she noticed his eyes flick towards the box cutter in her hand.
"If you're not leaving, then you need to give me the knife, Kiara," he said, invading her space.
His proximity forced her to backpedal until she felt the cold, hard wall behind her. She raised the box cutter ready to defend herself, but before she could even think, warm fingers encircled her wrist, pinning her hand beside her head. Papers from the roommate agreement were scattered across the floor, fluttering down.
Rafe leaned in, and she felt the heat of his breath against her cheeks, their eyes locking momentarily—his cerulean meeting her deep russet.
She hated how close he was. Her jaw clenched as he squinted down at her with a knowing smirk.
"Let me go, Rafe," she said through gritted teeth, struggling against the weight of his forearm pressing down on her.
He merely smiled wider, that cocky grin that always set her off.
"Now, why would I do that? We both know you'll just try to stab me again if I do," he replied, his tone teasing, as if they were engaging in a playful banter rather than a struggle.
With her free hand, she tapped his forearm repeatedly, a gesture that felt like a plea.
He wet his lips, completely unfazed.
"I won’t. I promise," she managed, her words coming out breathy, even she knew there was a high likelihood she would.
Rafe leaned in closer, his eyes flitting over her features as if trying to memorize every detail. She could feel the warmth radiating from him. Her heart pounded in her chest, echoing in her ears. She let out small, shaky breaths, filling the space between them.
"Prove it. Give me the knife," he mumbled, his words spilling across her cheeks in a warm breath while she heard the distinct sound of him swallowing.
An unsettling feeling rolled in her stomach, a desperate need to escape.
There was no way in hell she was gonna hand over the knife. She tightened her grip around the handle of the box cutter in her hand.
She needed space—to get away. The tension suffocated her.
Think, Kie. Think...
There were two options. She could attempt to hurt him and maybe use the knife to create some distance between them.
Then again, there was a high probability that it would only piss him off even more than her laughing did. And she knew better than to trigger him.
The alternative, however, while less risky, felt equally off-putting.
She needed to distract him using ‘other means’. Something that she knew was too easy.
Make him think she was interested in him, letting him to lower his guard just enough for her to get free.
Kie made sure she first had his attention, letting her eyes flick down to his mouth. As she looked up at him again, she noticed his brow furrowed as if trying to assess her next move. Lips parted with as much give as he would allow, she started to lean her head a little closer.
Kiara knew the idea was completely insane—there was no guarantee that he would take her bait.
But as she leaned closer, she could’ve sworn he was too.
Instinctively, her eyes darted back up, searching for a reaction. His nose crinkled, unable to mask his confusion.
And considering she’d known Rafe for years, she knew he had always been pretty bad at hiding what he was feeling.
Kie wet her lips, and instead of tapping his forearm this time, she rhythmically rubbed her thumb back and forth.
With his nose next to hers, she tentatively let hers brush against his, refusing to lean away as he let out a shaky breath.
Kie felt the pressure of his forearm against her shoulders increase and the hold on her wrist flex.
"What the hell are you doing?" Rafe muttered, his voice cynical and on edge.
"I could ask you the same question," she shot back, failing to hide the way her voice faltered.
But it wasn’t the answer he’d been looking for.
Rafe peeled her wrist from beside her head and knocked it against the wall. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but she did, in the process, feel the boxcutter slip from her grasp, clattering to the ground.
"Rafe," she breathed out his name.
Considering option two hadn’t worked, she was back to option one.
Using her free hand, Kie dug her fingernails into his forearm. When he let out a startled hiss, she couldn’t help but think ‘good’, seeing him flinch and his backwards cap fall.
With him focused on the crescent marks she'd left, she used that to her advantage, reached for him and grabbed his wrist. Then moved his arm higher and sank her teeth into the flexed muscle.
The sharp pain registered immediately and Rafe let out a curse as he roughly yanked his arm away from her.
Stepping back to the other side of the hallway, his eyes flickered with anger and shock.
Rafe rubbed the tender skin on his arm as Kie wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand.
His voice was low and uneven, laced with a thread of irritation.
"Jesus Christ, Kie. You fuckin' bit me."
Kie stood her ground, her eyes never leaving his face.
"I told you to let me go, dumbass."
Rafe hummed, the sound derisive, "Yeah, and I told you to give me the box cutter."
"So you decided to threaten me and knock it out of my hand?"
Indignation boiled over, the words were intended to deflect from her own guilt, but she could tell Rafe wasn't having it.
His eyes remained wide as he took a step back.
"You're the one who looked me in the eye and acted like you were about to kiss me," he snapped. He then snatched the box cutter off the floor, holding the knife up like it was evidence of her guilt. "Not the other way around, Kiara."
The words made her mouth crumple, mostly because they were true. Kie had started and escalated the situation. But in her mind, that didn't excuse his reaction—the way he'd pinned her to the wall. Yet, as his eyes seemed to refused to look away from hers, daring her to deny it, she couldn’t.
"How else was I supposed to get you off me?" Kie sneered, crossing her arms over her chest. "You had me pinned to the wall."
"Maybe if you had just dropped it, I wouldn’t have had to take—" he waved the box cutter in her direction, "—it from you."
For a moment, they stared at each other. The sound of their breathing was harsh against the quiet.
"I tried to stab you, Rafe," she reminded him, her voice cold and detached. "I've seen you go after my friends for just walking in Figure 8."
Rafe raised an eyebrow, shoving the locked box cutter into his pocket. Then he bent down, collecting the roommate agreement as she stood there and watched.
"You're not them... alright," he conceded, finally grabbing his cap off the ground. "I will admit, I was upset with you. And it doesn't help when I've got you snapping—" he brought his hand up to the side of his head, snapping his fingers a few times, "—at me. When in reality, technically, I haven’t done shit. In fact, I'd like to think I helped. But I wasn't gonna do anything other than take the knife."
You're not them...
Kiara blinked, the words snagging like something caught.
But before she could ask, his eyes fluttered shut, clearly done before he headed for the guest bedroom.
Only, Kie was no where near done talking to him.
"Seriously?" she scoffed, disbelief etched across her features. "Please tell me, how have you actually helped literally anyone other than yourself?"
"For starters, I paid off this condo," he declared with a nonchalant shrug, as if that somehow justified everything, placing the agreement on the dresser.
"I never asked for that," she retorted.
Rafe tossed up his free hand and let out a frustrated sigh.
"What do you want me to do? I have nowhere else to go. My ex-girlfriend works at the hotel, and I can’t stay at Tannyhill."
"And that’s my problem, how?" She asked with a shrug.
"It is, actually. Yeah," he said, tossing his cap onto the bed behind him. "See, staying here for a month was a part of the deal I made. You being here wasn’t."
None of this was her problem. But seeing him standing there triggered a flicker of guilt within her. She remembered how he used to pick on the other Pogues long before Sarah started dating John B. Part of her felt that he deserved this. While the other knew what it was like not having a place to live.
"If you’re just gonna stand there, then I suggest you go find something else to do. Or better yet, call Sarah. I’m done with whatever this is."
The bite to his words caught her off guard, and for a moment, she considered not saying anything. But she needed to hear him say it—to tell her he would not leave.
"Let me guess, you’re not leaving," she stated factually, already knowing his answer.
With a breathy hum, his eyes fluttered shut as he shook his head. "No. No, I’m not leaving."
"Well, neither am I."
"Sucks for us both then," he said with a click of his tongue, "Look, if Sarah wants to back out on our deal, then she can tell me that herself. Until then, it looks like we're both living here."
The indifferent tone of his words left her with little to say, and she mumbled a reluctant, "Fine."
He sat down on the guest bed, taking her lack of a fight as some kind of victory that pulled a shit-eating grin across his face.
Kie considered smacking him for it.
"Good," he said, the word laced with contentment. "Now, unless you're prepared to help me with the problem that you created, I suggest you go find something else to do with your time."
Just as she opened her mouth to argue, an unsettling realization washed over her. He couldn't mean—
With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Rafe glanced down at the bulge in his shorts with a casualness that made her breath catch. Her mouth fell open in disbelief as he pointed to his lap. Instinctively, she turned her gaze away, hands lifting in shock.
"Are you serious? What is wrong with you?" she asked.
Rafe let out a low, husky laugh at her reaction, obviously amused by her discomfort. Her face grew hot as a flush rose to her cheeks, her anger simmering as she struggled to maintain her composure in the face of his blatant provocation.
"Don't act all shocked, Kie," he said, his breathing heavy and slow. "What did you think was gonna happen when you pretended you were about to kiss me? Hmm?"
Kie could feel his eyes on her. At first she refused to look at him—to give him any kind of satisfaction. Then, with a sour pull of her mouth, she turned around towards him, giving him an unfazed expression. Her eyes remained fixed on his, feeling a little smug as she watched his smirk fall.
"Not shocked, actually," she said, her voice surprisingly level as his brows pulled together. "Clearly you’re wanting attention, Rafe. Which, again, isn't new."
Kie casually shrugged and took the roommate agreement from his dresser, closing the door behind her before he could respond. She paused in the hallway, releasing her held breath. Then a loud smack of something hitting the wall echoed from inside the room, his shout muffled by the closed door.
Quickly, she grabbed her lighter and a joint from her room and slipped out the sliding back door. The cool air brushed against her skin. She really didn't want to be anywhere near here when Rafe came out of his room.
The path to the beach was familiar, a winding trail that cut through patches of wild grass and the occasional cluster of small rocks. As Kie walked, she listened to the waves crashing against the shore and felt the salty breeze twist in her hair. Once she reached the shoreline, she found a quiet spot on the sand.
She took a deep breath, the smell of the ocean mixing with the earthy scent of the joint.
So much for a warm bath and avoiding stress.
The veil of night enveloped Kildare, blanketing the town. Using the soft glow of her phone that was about to die any second, Kie carefully climbed the steps leading to the back of the condo. To her surprise and relief, Rafe hadn’t locked her out. Even though it had been hours since she left.
Once inside, she tiptoed softly through the dimly lit house, conscious of every creak in the floorboards beneath her feet. Glancing towards the door of the guest bedroom, she wondered if he was asleep.
A heavy sigh escaped her lips, not just out of exhaustion, but from the situation. How the hell was she supposed to live with Rafe Cameron for an entire month?
Kie winced slightly when the knob clicked shut behind her—a sound that felt too loud. Then secured the lock for the night. She ran her fingers through her unruly curls and leaned against the door.
Today was Kie’s first day back in the Outer Banks after 58 days away, and everything felt different. No one knew she was home except for Rafe, and Sarah wasn't answering her phone. Almost as if she were avoiding a lecture about letting her dumbass older brother stay in their condo.
Shocker…
Closing the drawers and her closet, Kie side-eyed the shared wall she had with the guest room. As she settled into her comforter, wearing a fresh t-shirt and cotton shorts, her face crumpled. Turning her head into her pillow, she inhaled. The distinct scent of cologne from earlier clung to the material. Pulling her comforter to her nose, she realized it also smelled like him.
"Seriously?" Kie grumbled, making a mental note to talk about not going into each other's rooms.
After tossing and turning, unable to sleep, Kie opened her eyes, and in the inky darkness of her room, she looked towards her side table. With a curious look, she sat up, chewing on her bottom lip.
If it was on the lowest setting, she should be fine. Besides, Rafe was probably asleep.
"I mean, it’s not like the walls are that thin," she mumbled, rolling her eyes. "And the guest bed is practically on the other side of the room."
Kie pulled open her drawer and grabbed her small purple toy. After pushing her bottoms to the foot of her bed. A shaky sigh escaped her parted lips as she closed her eyes
She could already feel the day's stress fade away as she focused on the gentle vibration. The soft buzzing sound filled the room, and the tension in her shoulders dissolved.
With her eyes closed, she tilted her head back slightly.
A warm sensation built gradually in her lower abdomen. At first, she tried to focus on the feeling of the toy in her hand, but it was no use—her mind kept drifting. So she allowed her thoughts to wander. Kie turned her head into her pillow, burying her face in its softness, and her brows furrowed.
Cologne played at her nose and immediately made her think of him—Rafe. She squeezed her thighs together, feeling a surge of desire and tension. Memories of Rafe pinning her against the wall came flooding back.
But her hand remained between her thighs. Her mind replayed the way Rafe looked at her. She thought about his cerulean eyes and how he seemed to fixate on her.
Kie wondered if Rafe touched himself while thinking of her.
The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and she bit down on her lip to stifle a moan that threatened to escape. Her hips seemed to move of their own accord, canting towards her hand that held the toy between her legs.
She pushed the button, increasing the vibration speed. A wave of heat spilled through her body. She felt her body tense, muscles coiling tighter and tighter, until she couldn't bear it anymore.
Turning her face towards the pillow, she let out a muffled cry as her back arched, her body shuddering.
And as the pleasure spilled, she moaned his name.
When the high faded and the realization hit her, Kie groaned into the pillow. Her face burned, disgust twisting in her stomach. Kie hated that Rafe Cameron—a horrible Kook with a temper and a bully who jumped her friends—had been the reason she got off.
There weren’t many times that she felt like she’d crossed a line, but this was one of those times.
Before the sun rose over the Outer Banks, Kie tied her hair up in a messy bun and left the condo to steer clear of Rafe. Even though it was Sunday, she would rather be at work. Not that she was embarrassed or anything like that. After reflecting on it, Kie realized last night had nothing to do with Rafe.
The real reason she was avoiding him was that she didn’t feel like repeating yesterday. Besides, if he wanted to talk to her, he’d find her, eventually. He always had when they were younger.
Kie unlocked the office door and stepped inside, dropping her backpack on the floor. She had been sorting through office supplies and tidying up for a while when she picked up her phone. Scrolling through the messages she sent to Sarah, she couldn't help but roll her eyes at the lack of a response.
Making her way to the front of the office, Kie heard a soft chime announcing someone's arrival. She quickly pocketed her phone and paused behind the front desk. She froze when she saw Rafe. He was wearing a button-down shirt and flipping through a magazine before letting it drop on the coffee table with a smack.
When he caught her eye, a slow smile spread across his face.
"Hey, Kie," he said, causing her to press her lips tightly together, not sure how to respond or how he even knew where she worked.
By the raise of his brows, she could tell he noticed her body language and, with a slight nod, pressed on. "I, uh, saw this pen on the counter and guessed you might be here. So, I thought I’d swing by for a quick chat, you know? Since it seems like you’re avoiding me."
Rafe took a step closer, watching her as if he were searching for a reaction. The warmth in his voice did little to ease the tension knotting in her stomach. He rubbed his nose, waiting for her to say something.
"What do you want, Rafe?" She finally asked.
He shrugged, stopping in front of the desk that separated them. "We both said and did some things yesterday. And since we’re gonna be roommates, I think we should at least talk."
"Is that so?" Kie rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, it is," Rafe said, lowering himself and leaning his elbows on the desk so he could look up at her. "Listen, I’m not an idiot, Kie. I know you’re upset. And I also know you didn’t sleep well last night."
Kie wasn't used to people wanting to talk to her. Usually, she was the one trying to get others to open up. But Rafe had always been different. Even when they were in school, he always seemed to pry and make her acknowledge him. At least he was consistent.
"You don’t know me, Rafe. So don’t pretend like you do."
With a frustrated huff, his mouth pressed into a line while his eyes widened.
"See, that’s what I’m talking about. You’re giving these short answers," he exhaled as he rubbed his face with both hands and looked at her again.
"Like it or not, until Sarah responds to us, we’re stuck living under the same roof. So, for the next month, we’re going to have to figure out some kind of truce. And something tells me I’m the only friend you’ve got right now."
Kie’s stomach twisted at his words.
"We’re not friends," she retorted, feeling a lump in her throat. He was right, and that truth hurt more than she cared to acknowledge. With Sarah off on vacation with John B and other Pogues doing their own thing, she had no one to confide in. And she refused to think about the way she had left Kildare.
"Do I look like I give a shit if we’re friends, Kiara?" He asked.
Rafe feigned a frown, giving her an exaggerated shrug, as if it didn’t bother him. But the tic of his jaw tightening told her otherwise. It was nice to know that her words had affected him just like his words had affected her.
"Whatever. I'm not talking about this right now. We can talk tonight at the condo," Kie said, her voice steady as she began tucking loose papers into a neatly organized folder.
"Right. Good talk," Rafe said casually as he turned toward the front door, but stopped when she cleared her throat.
With a quick shake of her head, she met his eyes, "Were you in my room?"
Rafe let out a breathy laugh.
Uh, yeah. I was," he confessed, as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I may have used some of your weed."
She let out a hum of irritation as she averted her gaze back to the mess of office supplies sprawled across her desk. "You can’t do that, Rafe. We don’t go into each other's rooms."
Okay," he said, pulling her to look at him, "I shouldn’t have gone into your room. I know that. I’ll replace it."
Going back to what she was doing, Kie felt him lingering in the doorway.
"You can leave now," she said as he hummed as if contemplating saying something.
When she looked up, he nodded.
"One more thing," Rafe added, momentarily biting down on his bottom lip as he turned to face her again.
Tilting his head slightly, he looked at her with the corner of his mouth lifted.
"Just so you know, your little purple vibrator that you keep in your bottom drawer isn’t as quiet as you think. So if you want help or have trouble sleeping again, let me know."
Rafe’s gaze slowly traced the length of her body, lingering for just a heartbeat longer than necessary, before locking back onto her eyes. A flush of heat flooded under her skin. As if he could read her expression, she noticed his smirk widen slightly.
But Kie refused to give him the satisfaction.
And with a nod, he hummed, tapped the trim lining the doorway, and stepped out the door.
So much for a stress-free weekend.