023. cowgirls rock

( the twenty-third chapter )

( rafe's pov )
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Rafe sat at his desk, his eyes glazed over as he stared at the jumble of numbers and spreadsheets on his laptop screen. The office space in Tannyhill was more his father's fortress than a workspace, and Rafe felt the suffocating weight of the Cameron name with every passing second. Figures didn't add up. There were discrepancies in the offshore accounts, and despite his lack of enthusiasm for running the family business, Rafe hated the idea of screwing up.

A bead of sweat dripped down his temple as he ran a hand through his hair, the duffle bag beneath his bed calling to him like a siren. His fingers itched, his head buzzed. It would only take one line—one little bump to get through the rest of the day.

But he gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and forced himself to breathe. He couldn't afford another slip-up. Not now, when his dad was starting to trust him more with the company's finances.

The door to his room burst open, the sudden noise making him jump.

"Rafe!" Wheezie announced, striding in with her arms crossed. "I'm bored. Can we go into town?"

He frowned, annoyed at the interruption. "No. Go ask Sarah."

"She's not here," Wheezie replied, planting herself firmly in front of him. "Come on, Rafe. I want cola ice cream with sprinkles. And if you're nice, I'll even let you buy me sour candy."

"I'm working, Wheeze," he said, gesturing toward the chaos on his laptop. "Go do something else."

Wheezie rolled her eyes dramatically. "You've been staring at your screen for hours. You need a break. And I'll be quick! Ice cream, maybe some candy, and then I'll leave you alone. Please?"

Rafe pinched the bridge of his nose, debating whether to argue or just give in. Finally, he sighed. "Fine. Get your shoes on. Let's go."

Wheezie grinned triumphantly and darted out of the room.

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The ice cream parlor was quieter than usual, the hum of conversation and clinking spoons filling the air. Wheezie sat across from Rafe at a small table, gleefully devouring her cola ice cream with colorful sprinkles.

"So," Wheezie began, her spoon hovering in mid-air. "How's it going with your mystery girlfriend?"

Rafe's jaw tightened. He hadn't told her much—just dropped vague hints to keep her from prying too much. But Wheezie was persistent.

"It's fine," he said curtly, swirling his coffee with his spoon.

"Fine?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow. "That's all I get? When's she coming over?"

"She's not," Rafe replied, sliding a five-dollar bill across the table. "Here. For candy. Keep quiet about her, Wheeze."

Wheezie frowned but pocketed the bill. "This isn't over, you know. You can't just buy me off forever. Are you bringing her to Midsummer?"

"Wheezie," Rafe warned, his tone sharp enough to make her sit back in her chair.

She muttered something under her breath but dropped the subject, focusing on her melting ice cream.

They were heading back to the car when Rafe froze mid-step, his eyes locking onto a familiar figure across the street.

Olivine.

She was standing near the smoothie shop, dressed in sleek pink ballet training attire—a fitted leotard with a wrap-around skirt and tights. Her braids was pulled back into a low bun, her hand clutching a green-and-pink smoothie while the other held a packet of sour sweets. A duffle bag was slung over her shoulder, and she was scrolling through her phone, completely oblivious to the world around her.

Wheezie's face lit up as she spotted Olivine. "Olivine!" she shouted, waving excitedly.

Olivine looked up from her phone, surprised but smiling sweetly when she spotted them. She waved back, her expression warm as her eyes flicked between Wheezie and Rafe.

Rafe's heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, the world around him blurred. All he could see was her—the way her training outfit emphasized her graceful frame, the soft glow of her skin in the late afternoon light.

He was jolted back to reality by Wheezie's elbow nudging his ribs. "Rafe! Are you going to say hi, or just stare at her like a weirdo?"

He gave wheezie a soft shove before managing to give Olivine a timid smile.

She raised her smoothie in a playful salute before glancing toward the parking lot. A sleek car pulled up—a familiar one. Daniela.

Olivine gave them one last smile before hopping into the passenger seat, her braid swishing behind her as she shut the door. The car drove off, leaving Rafe standing there with his hands in his pockets, his chest tight.

Wheezie sighed . "You men are so dull."

"Shut up," he muttered, heading for the car.

But he couldn't shake the image of Olivine, her presence lingering in his mind like a phantom, fuck he was obsessed.

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Back at the house, Rafe retreated to his room, closing the door firmly behind him. He needed a distraction, something to quiet the restless energy buzzing under his skin. His gaze flicked to the duffle bag under his bed, and for a moment, the temptation was overwhelming.

Instead, he grabbed his laptop and reopened the spreadsheet he'd been working on earlier. Numbers and charts filled the screen, the cold precision of finance a stark contrast to the chaos in his mind.

He tried to focus, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Olivine—her smile, the way her lips had tasted, the warmth of her hand on the back of his neck.

Rafe slammed the laptop shut with a frustrated groan.

A knock sounded on his door again, softer this time. "Rafe?"

It was Wheezie.

"What now?"

The door cracked open, and she poked her head in. "Can I borrow twenty bucks?"

Rafe raised an eyebrow. "What for?"

"I want to order pizza. there's literally no food, I'm starving."

He sighed, pulling his wallet from his pocket and tossing a fifty onto the bed. "Take it and go."

Wheezie grabbed the bill and hesitated, her expression shifting to something more serious. "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

Rafe shot her a pointed look. "Wheezie, I'm not in the mood for this."

She lingered for a moment longer before nodding and slipping out of the room, leaving him alone again.

As the hours dragged on, Rafe found himself pacing the length of his room, the unease in his chest refusing to settle. Finally, he gave in.

He pulled the duffle bag out from under his bed, unzipping it to reveal the small bag of coke hidden inside. His hands trembled as he held it, the familiar weight of it both comforting and suffocating.

Just one line. Just enough to take the edge off.

But as he stared at the bag, Olivine's face flashed in his mind—the softness in her eyes, the way she'd looked at him when he kissed her.

Rafe clenched his jaw and threw the bag back into the duffle, shoving it under the bed again.

Not tonight.

He sank onto the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. For the first time in a long time, the drugs didn't feel like an escape—they felt like a chain, dragging him down. And he wasn't sure if he wanted to break free or let them pull him under.

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Rafe stared at the blank screen of his phone, his thumb hovering over Sarah's contact. The house felt too heavy, too claustrophobic, and Wheezie's occasional knocks at his door only made it worse. He needed out.

With a groan, he finally typed out a message:

Rafe: Come home. Wheezie needs someone here , and I'm heading out.

It didn't take long for Sarah to reply.

Sarah: WTF dude u can't just "head out" and ur on bbysitting duty where are u  going?

Rafe: Don't worry about it. Be here in 30. Thanks.

He didn't wait for her response before switching over to his other conversation—one that made his chest feel lighter and tighter at the same time. Olivine's name at the top of the chat stared back at him, taunting him.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard. How did he even approach this? Last night had been... something. The kiss, the tension, the way she'd looked at him like he was both the best and worst decision she'd ever made.

Finally, he typed:

Rafe: Hey. Want to grab dinner later?

He deleted it.

Typed again.

Rafe: You free tonight? I owe you for yesterday.

That felt safer, less desperate. He hit send before he could overthink it, tossing his phone onto the bed and leaning back against the headboard.

Seconds ticked by. Then a minute. Then two.

His phone buzzed, and he snatched it up quickly.

liv: oh you owe me ??? hmmm mr cameron what's the catch?

Rafe smirked, shaking his head. She always had a way of calling him out.

Rafe: No catch. Just dinner. My treat.

This time, her response came quicker.

liv: okayy, but if this is another one of your half-baked plans, i'm walking out.

Rafe: Noted. I'll pick you up at 7.

Tossing his phone aside, Rafe exhaled. For the first time all day, the weight in his chest seemed to ease just a little.

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Rafe pulled up outside Olivine's house, his heart thudding in his chest as he saw her step out the front door. She looked effortless, as always. Tonight, she wore a simple strapless dress, sleeveless piece hugged her figure effortlessly, its fabric catching just enough light to accentuate its deep, rich hue. Tiny buttons trailed down the front, stopping at the knotted tie cinched neatly at her waist.

Her hair was still styled in the same intricate braids, but she'd tied them it into a half-updo that gave him the opportunity to stare more at the beauty she bestowed.

She glanced around and spotted his truck, her face breaking into a faint, knowing smile. Slinging a small purse over her shoulder, she descended the steps with an ease that Rafe couldn't help but admire.

He hopped out of the truck and walked around to the passenger side, opening the door for her.

"Wow," he said, his voice softer than he intended. "You look...fuck-amazing."

Olivine gave him a skeptical look but couldn't completely hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. "Don't start with the flattery, Rafe. I'm still annoyed at you."

"Right," he said, clearing his throat and stepping back as she climbed into the truck. "Noted."

The drive was quiet at first, the silence thick with unspoken tension. Rafe focused on the road, sneaking occasional glances at Olivine as she stared out the window. Her profile was serene, but he could tell her mind was elsewhere.

"Are you sure this isn't a bribe?" she asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

"A bribe?"

"For yesterday," she clarified, turning to look at him. Her tone was light, but her eyes were sharp.

Rafe sighed, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "It's not a bribe. I just... I wanted to see you. Is that so bad?"

Olivine studied him for a moment before turning back to the window. "No. It's not bad."

Relief flooded through him, though he kept his focus on the road. "Good. Because I've got a place in mind. I think you'll like it."

The restaurant was small and tucked away, the kind of place you wouldn't notice unless you were looking for it. Rafe had only been there once before, but he remembered the food being good and the atmosphere quiet—exactly what he wanted tonight.

He parked the truck and walked around to open Olivine's door again, earning a raised eyebrow from her.

"You're being unusually polite," she teased as she stepped out.

"Just trying to make up for yesterday," he admitted, his lips curving into a small smile.

They walked inside, and Rafe was relieved to see it wasn't too crowded. The soft hum of jazz music filled the air as they were led to a cozy corner table.

As they sat at the cozy corner table, Olivine picked up the menu, her brow furrowing as she scanned it. After a few moments, she glanced up at Rafe with an incredulous look.

"Hold on," she said, flipping the menu over. "Why aren't there any prices on this thing? Is this one of those expensive restaurants where everything is imported from France or something?"

Rafe leaned back in his chair, a grin tugging at his lips. "Maybe."

Olivine narrowed her eyes. "You're serious?"

He laughed, the sound low and warm, and shook his head. "Not everything's imported from France. Some of it's probably from Italy."

Her groan made him laugh harder. "Great. So you dragged me to some fancy spot where I'll end up owing my soul if I order wrong. Awesome."

"Relax," he said, still grinning. "I've got it covered."

Rafe signaled the waiter and rattled off his own order: a steak, a side of penne alla vodka, and a beer. The ease in his tone made Olivine's jaw drop slightly.

The waiter turned to her with a smile."And what would you like, Ma'am?", she turned towards Rafe with a small smirk."What's the most expensive meal on the menu?" She asked watching his playful smile turn into an amused smirk before the waiter nodded,

"Our most dish is the Posh Pie which we get imported from Australia and it usually has a side of the Fleurburger." he finished off, Olivine nodded along in false thought, before telling the waiter that she'd like that with a diet coke.

The waiter scribbled her order before walking off towards the kitchen-Rafe let out a chuckle in disbelief and humour. "You're a girl with expensive taste you know."

Olivine raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a playful smile. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, clearly intrigued but still a little confused by his comment.

Rafe leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You just ordered the Posh Pie—that's 9k right there. And the Fleurburger? Another 5k. You're racking up the bill, Liv," he said, his voice laced with humor.

Her jaw dropped in disbelief. "Wait... what?" she gasped, her eyes widening. "You're kidding, right? I just ordered what?"

Rafe chuckled softly, his gaze filled with amusement. "Nope. Those are the prices for what you just ordered. I mean, if you didn't look at the menu, it's pretty easy to get caught up in the fancy descriptions and forget that you're basically ordering a luxury meal."

Olivine's face turned a shade of pink as she processed what he had said. "Nine thousand dollars for a pie?" she stammered, her eyes darting from the menu to him. "And five thousand for a burger? Are you sure I didn't accidentally order a diamond-studded pie or something?"

Rafe laughed outright, shaking his head. "Nope, it's real. But hey, don't worry. My dad and Rose always get the same thing when they order takeout here. This is pretty standard for them."

She blinked, still in shock. "You're telling me your dad orders the same things? He's okay with paying this much for food?"

"Well, he doesn't really care," Rafe said, a shrug in his voice as he took a sip of his drink. "It's just part of the lifestyle. They don't even flinch when they pay for it."

Olivine let out a small laugh, still shaking her head in disbelief. "Wow, I really have no clue what I'm getting myself into here. I was just trying to have a nice dinner, and now I've probably just eaten my life savings."

Rafe couldn't help but grin at her reaction—her mixture of humor and shock was incredibly endearing. "Nah, don't stress it," he assured her, leaning forward slightly. "It's okay. I've got it covered. You just enjoy the meal."

Olivine raised an eyebrow but relaxed slightly. "You sure? Because this is a lot of money. I didn't even realize it was this expensive."

"Yeah, I'm sure," Rafe said, his voice softening. "Trust me, it's not a big deal. I'm used to this kind of thing. My family likes to splurge on dinners like this. You just happen to be the lucky one who got invited along for the ride."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Lucky, huh?"

Rafe chuckled, his grin widening. "Yeah. Lucky. You're probably the only person I know who would have such a reaction to spending this much on food."

Olivine crossed her arms over her chest, trying to look unimpressed, but the faint blush on her cheeks told a different story. "Well, I guess I'm learning all kinds of things tonight."

As they waited for their food, the conversation came easier. Olivine still threw the occasional jab his way, but the tension from earlier had eased.

At one point, Rafe found himself staring at her, the candlelight reflecting in her eyes as she laughed softly at something he said.

"What?" she asked, catching his gaze.

"Nothing," he said quickly, looking away. "Just... you look happy. I like it."

Olivine's smile faltered for a split second before returning, softer this time. "Well, let's see if you can keep it that way."

The food arrived, and Rafe watched with quiet satisfaction as Olivine took her first bite and nodded approvingly.

"Okay," she admitted, pointing her fork at him. "This is good."

"See? I told you," he said, grinning.

For the rest of the evening, the world outside seemed to fade away. For once, Rafe didn't feel like the guy who always messed things up. With Olivine, even with her teasing and her guarded smiles, he felt like maybe he could be someone better.

And for now, that was enough.

She hesitated for a moment, her gaze flicking to Rafe. Her playful demeanor from earlier faded, replaced by something more serious.

"Rafe," she started, her voice softer, "can I ask you something?"

He tilted his head, sensing the shift in her tone. "Yeah, sure. What's up?"

She set her glass down, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the napkin. "I know you smoke weed sometimes—honestly, I can handle that. Cigarettes too, even though I don't like them. But..."

Rafe's jaw tightened slightly as she trailed off.

"But," she continued, her voice quieter now, "I've heard rumors. About the coke." She met his gaze, her eyes steady but worried. "Is it just a party thing? Or is it... more than that?"

The question hung in the air, cutting through the casual warmth of their earlier conversation. Rafe's jaw ticked, and his fingers drummed against the edge of the table. He looked away briefly, his gaze settling on the flickering candle between them.

Olivine waited, watching the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his chest rose and fell in a slow, controlled breath.

Finally, he sighed deeply, leaning back in his chair. His eyes closed for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. When he opened them again, he looked at her with a vulnerability she hadn't seen before.

"It's not just parties," he admitted, his voice low and rough. "It started that way, yeah. Just... messing around, blowing off steam. But now?" He exhaled sharply through his nose. "Now it's harder to stop than I want to admit."

He reached across the table, his hand finding hers. His touch was firm but gentle, grounding himself as much as her. "I'm not proud of it, Liv. I know it's a mess. I'm a mess. But I don't want to lie to you."

Olivine stared at their joined hands, her heart aching at the weight of his words. She could feel the tremor in his fingers, the faint tension in his grip.

"I just..." she started, her voice breaking slightly before she steadied herself. "I don't want to see you spiral, Rafe. I can't—" She swallowed hard. "I can't watch that happen to you."

His grip on her hand tightened slightly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "I'm trying," he said quietly. "I know that doesn't mean much, but I swear, Liv, I'm trying."

Olivine looked up, her eyes searching his. "Promise me something," she said softly.

"Anything," he replied, his voice almost a whisper.

"If it gets too much—if you feel like you're losing control—promise you'll tell me," she said, her words firm. "I don't care how messy it is, Rafe. Just don't shut me out."

He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "I promise."

For a moment, they sat in silence, their hands still entwined, the rest of the world fading into the background.

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KIKI SPEAKS ;
not edited !!

i wake up to 12k views !!!! what the heck man, i can't express how thankful i am pooks

word count : 3.4k

ENJOY !!
xoxo kiki 💋💋