For Your Love // Rafe Cameron X Reader

𝐓𝐖𝐎

Rafe couldn't remember a damn thing when he woke up the following morning. Well, afternoon. It was roughly 12:45 when he woke up with a groan, on the floor of Topper's poolhouse a few feet away from their mutual friend Kelce.

Topper himself was playing video games on the couch, headset muting the sound of the shooter game he was trying to get through. 

"G'morning, man!" He greets Rafe without looking at him. He only gets a grumble in response. The volume with which he spoke sent a spear of pain into the heart of Rafe's violent hangover. God, he hadn't been blackout in a long time. "Last night was great. That new girl? Hot."

"New girl?" It certainly peaked Rafe's womanizing interests to hear about a new prospect. He pushes to a sit, running a hand over his face and then up into his hair to brush it out of his eyes. "What fuckin' new girl?"

"Well, not new to you apparently. Said she was called, uhh.." He pauses to focus on a kill, returning his attentions to his friend after. "(Y/N)... Or something."

"What? Where did we see her?" Rafe frowned as he scrambled to clear the fog of his memories from last night. He knew you were back in town, his father had told him you were coming back about a week or so ago and there wasn't much he thought about more since then. But he didn't know you were here yet. He especially didn't remember seeing you last night.

In fact, the last thing he did remember was -- Ah. 

Shit. 

The last thing he remembered was indulging in a few lines of his favored narcotic in the bathroom at the Country Club. And then.. Oh, God. Tequila shots.

Yep. That sure explained the pounding in his head and mild amnesia. 

"At the Country Club thing last night. She--" Another pause for another video game kill. "Nice. As I was saying. She rejected you hard dude." He laughs at the end as if he found it highly fucking amusing. Rafe did not. He was seething with irritation over his own actions and more importantly not knowing what they even were. "Fuck," He mumbles quietly to himself, low enough that Topper wouldn't hear. Then he's pushing to a stand and leaving without so much as a goodbye. 

He needed a goddamn drink.

≖

The day had already been productive for you. You woke up at 7am and got to work on setting up meetings to prepare for the fundraiser after breakfast. If you didn't keep busy, you found yourself stewing in annoyance over the disappointment you'd endured last night.

You were at risk of thinking about it too much so it was best to do anything and everything to take your mind off of it.

Dad was at work as expected, a small scribbled note left on the refrigerator explaining he would hopefully be back for dinner. It was a lie. You knew that much already thanks to the years of notes similar to this that ended in you waiting up for a dinner companion that wouldn't come. You understood his job was important, but sometimes you really missed your dad. Or even just company.

At least back home you had your friends. Here, you only really had your dad. And he wasn't around from day one. 

It was a good thing you didn't mind your own company most days. 

Your phone pings with a message response from none other than Rose Cameron who was interested in helping you plan the event. She was Ward's wife and usually ran the social scene around here apparently so it made sense that she would be interested in anything remotely event-based. 

After arranging a time for lunch with her, you head upstairs to your room to unpack some more and find some clothes that would be suitable for a business-casual meeting with your ex best-friends new mom. That felt weird to think about. But there was no reason you couldn't work with her even if her step-son was a pig.