Rafe Cameron Imagines

I'll Give You My Weekends🤍

You weren't supposed to notice him.

But you always did.

It started simple — the way he leaned against doorframes like he owned them. Like the house bowed around him. Like every moment slowed down just a little when he walked in.

You told yourself it didn't mean anything.
But then his eyes started finding yours.
And staying there.

Even when Topper had his hand on your waist.
Even when you were laughing at someone else's joke.
Even when you tried not to look back.

And that look? That weight in his stare? That was the beginning.

—

"Your boyfriend's looking for you," Rafe said, voice low and casual, but his tone had that edge again — the one that always made your pulse jump a little.

You were standing at the kitchen counter at Sarah's party, pretending to scroll through your texts but fully aware of Rafe leaning against the fridge just a few feet away.

You didn't glance up. "You keeping tabs on him now?"

"I keep tabs on you."

You blinked, smiled to yourself, and finally looked up. "You should get a hobby."

"I've got one," he said. "You."

You rolled your eyes. "That's original."

Rafe shrugged. "I'm not trying to be original. I'm just telling the truth."

You tilted your head, mouth twitching. "That's funny. I didn't take you for the honest type."

"I'm not. But I am with you."

He didn't move. Didn't reach for you. Didn't even touch you.
But it felt like he did.

"You've got a staring problem," you said, just to fill the silence.

"You've got a problem being stared at," he shot back, that familiar glint in his eyes.

"And you've got a problem respecting what's mine," you replied, a little too sharp, a little too breathless.

He didn't flinch. "You think I'm trying to take something from him?"

You looked up again, square in his eyes. "Aren't you?"

He didn't say anything.
Didn't need to.

Because then—

"Babe," Topper's voice cut through the air, arm slipping easily around your shoulders. "Been looking for you. You good?"

You forced a smile, stepping into him like second nature. "Yeah. Just needed a minute."

Rafe cleared his throat behind you.

"We were just talking about Kelce's beer pong skills," he said smoothly.

Topper snorted. "What skills?"

Rafe laughed — but his eyes didn't leave yours.

Not even once.

—

That night, you couldn't stop thinking about it.

The way Rafe looked at you like he already knew every thought in your head. The way he stood too close but never close enough. The way he always said just enough to get under your skin.

And the worst part?

You let him.

You could've pulled away. Shut it down.
But you didn't.