Bound By Lies - Rafe Cameron

Chapter 7

The sun was already high in the sky, casting long shadows over the perfectly manicured green of the golf course. I'd been running around all morning, delivering drinks and smiling through the usual condescending remarks from the club's patrons. It was exhausting, but it was work, and I needed the distraction.

I had just stepped out onto the course, balancing a tray of iced tea glasses, when I heard the faint whiz of something flying through the air. Before I could react, a sharp pain exploded on the side of my head.

"Ouch!" I gasped, dropping the tray as my hand flew up to my temple. The glasses shattered on impact with the ground, sending ice and tea splattering everywhere. I staggered back, the world spinning as I struggled to stay upright.

"Shit!" a voice called, sharp and urgent.

I blinked, trying to focus, but everything was a blur. The pain throbbed at my temple, hot and relentless, as I stumbled to the side, feeling disoriented and unsteady.

"Are you okay?" The voice was closer now.

A hand reached out, gripping my arm gently but firmly. I looked up, squinting against the sunlight, and found myself staring into a pair of familiar blue eyes.

Rafe.

"What the hell..." I muttered, still trying to process what had happened.

"I—shit, I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't see you there."

I blinked, confusion mingling with the pain. "What... what are you talking about?"

"The ball," he muttered, glancing down at the golf ball lying a few feet away. "I was aiming for the fairway, and it just—" He gestured helplessly, his face flushed with genuine remorse. "It was an accident. I swear."

I stared at him, the world still swaying slightly. Rafe Cameron apologizing? That was a first. "You... hit me?"

"Yeah, I did," he admitted, grimacing. "I didn't mean to. Let me get you some ice, okay? You're gonna have a nasty bruise."

Before I could respond, he turned and jogged off toward the clubhouse. I blinked after him, still trying to wrap my head around what had just happened.

Rafe hit me with a golf ball. By accident. And now he was getting me ice?

What the hell kind of alternate reality had I stumbled into?

I shook my head, wincing as the motion made the pain flare up again. One of the other waitresses, Lauren, came rushing over, her eyes wide with concern.

"Oh my God, Teresa! Are you okay?" she gasped, glancing from me to the shattered tray on the ground. "What happened?"

"Rafe happened," I muttered, pressing a hand gingerly to the side of my head. "He hit me with a golf ball."

"Are you serious?" she whispered, her gaze darting to where Rafe was already making his way back with a small plastic bag filled with ice. "What did he say?"

"That it was an accident," I said slowly, still stunned by the whole thing. "And now he's getting me ice."

Lauren's eyebrows shot up, a disbelieving look spreading across her face. "Rafe Cameron? That Rafe Cameron?"

"Yes, that Rafe Cameron," I muttered, watching as he approached, his expression still tight with worry. He shoved the bag of ice into my hands, looking almost... anxious.

"Here," he said, his voice gruff. "Hold it against the bump. You're probably gonna feel dizzy for a bit."

I stared at him, then at the ice, then back at him. "You... got me ice?"