LITTLE SECRET | RAFE CAMERON

86: 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘭

He loved kissing her. There was no denying it. But there were few things about Alice that Rafe hadn't come to love.

Her laugh. Oh, or the way she furrowed her brows whenever she was deep in thought. The quiet way she existed in the same space as him, as though she was always meant to be there.

But kissing her...god, kissing her was something else.

Kissing her was an escape. It was the thing that anchored Rafe when the world around him felt like it was breaking apart.

But it wasn't just about the kiss. It was the way her lips felt against his.

Soft, warm, like home. The way her breath hitched when he kissed her just a little deeper, like she couldn't help but respond to the quiet desperation he tried to mask. And when he pulled away - just for a moment, to catch his breath - every sigh she let out was a sweet little confession, a silent plea for more.

A plea he could never deny.

She was his drug. His addiction even.

The taste of her. Alice was everything to him. And yet, the more he kissed her, the more he realized...it wasn't her.

He knew her. All of her.

The way her body fit against his like it had always been meant to. The way her skin felt beneath his fingers - smooth, warm, alive. He knew the little shiver that ran through her when he touched the nape of her neck, the way her body would lean into him when he kissed her deeply.

He knew her taste. She always tasted sweet, something uniquely her, hints of sugar and honey which coated his lips. The sound of her breath catching when his hand cupped the back of her neck.

But now...

Now, he kissed a stranger.

Not that Alice looked different. Not that she sounded different. No. She was still Alice in all the ways that mattered.

But something was different.

And Rafe could feel it with every kiss.

His hands trembled on her body, like he was trying to hold onto the last remnants of something he couldn't quite grasp. He had no words for it.

No way to explain that the very act of kissing her now felt like a betrayal of something pure that had once been there between them.

Her lips were still soft, but they weren't the same. They weren't hers anymore. She wasn't herself anymore.

And yet, he kissed her. He kissed her like he couldn't breathe without her.

Because, in a way, he couldn't.

Her warmth, the way her body curved against his, was a reminder of what they used to be. And for just a few seconds he could pretend.

Rafe pretended that everything was fine, that they were fine, that they were still the same two people who used to laugh in the middle of the night about nothing at all.

But when he felt her hands slowly, almost hesitantly, creep up to the hem of his shirt, a wave of guilt surged through him.

It wasn't just her touch. It was the meaning behind it. The way she moved, as if something in her was unsure of what she was doing and where this was leading.

Or worse, as if she didn't even know if she wanted this to happen.

The way her fingers lingered there sent a tremor through Rafe.

It felt wrong. As if he was pushing her, leading her into something she didn't fully want.

Rafe's breath caught in his throat. His body, still aching from her closeness. The guilt knotted deep in his stomach, a bitter reminder that something had changed between them.