040. i love

( the fortieth chapter )

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The next morning, sunlight filtered through the windows of Rafe's loft, casting a soft glow across the living room. The faint hum of Wheezie's music played from her headphones as she sat cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through her phone. Olivine, wrapped in one of Rafe's oversized sweatshirts, moved quietly in the kitchen, fixing herself a cup of tea.

Rafe stirred awake on the other end of the couch, blinking against the light. His arm throbbed faintly, a reminder of everything that had gone down the day before. He sat up with a groggy groan, running a hand through his disheveled hair before glancing around the room.

Olivine turned when she heard him move, her lips curving into a small smile. "Morning, sleeping beauty," she teased softly.

Rafe smirked, his voice raspy with sleep. "Morning. What time is it?"

"Almost ten," she replied, stepping toward him with a steaming mug in her hand. "Here."

"What's this?" Rafe asked, taking the mug.

"Tea," she said, perching on the arm of the couch beside him. "Figured you might need something warm this morning."

Rafe stared at the mug for a moment before looking up at her, his expression softening. "Thanks, Olive."

She smiled, reaching out to brush her thumb gently over the edge of the bandage on his arm. "How's it feeling?"

"Better," he said, though the slight flinch didn't escape her notice. "Not as bad as it looks."

"Liar," she murmured, her brow furrowing. "I still think you should see someone about it."

"I'll be fine," he insisted, though his voice was softer this time, less defensive.

Before Olivine could respond, Wheezie piped up from the couch. "Are you two gonna spend all day being weird and mushy, or can we do something fun today?"

Olivine laughed, glancing over at her. "What did you have in mind, Wheeze?"

"Anything that doesn't involve watching Rafe act like a mopey old man," Wheezie replied, shooting her brother a pointed look. "You've been so weird lately."

Rafe rolled his eyes, sinking back into the couch. "I'm not weird."

"Yeah, you are."

"Alright, alright," Olivine cut in, shaking her head with a grin. "What if we go grab brunch somewhere? You pick the spot, Wheezie."

Wheezie perked up immediately. "Really?"

"Sure," Olivine replied, nudging Rafe's shoulder with her knee. "Unless you have any objections?"

Rafe looked up at her, a small smile tugging at his lips. "No objections here."

"Good," Olivine said, standing and holding her hand out to him. "Go get ready. You look like you just rolled out of a ditch."

Rafe let out a low chuckle, taking her hand and pulling himself up off the couch. "You're lucky I like you, Olive."

She grinned. "I know."

Half an hour later, they were piled into Rafe's car, with Wheezie flipping through radio stations from the back seat. Olivine sat in the passenger seat, her window down as the warm breeze tousled her hair. She glanced over at Rafe, taking in the way his hands gripped the steering wheel.

"You sure you're okay to drive?" she asked quietly, keeping her voice low so Wheezie wouldn't overhear.

Rafe's jaw flexed as he nodded. "I'm fine."

She studied him for a moment longer before sighing softly and letting it go.

They ended up at a cozy diner on the edge of town, the kind with checkered floors and old booths that creaked when you sat down. Wheezie slid into one side of the booth while Olivine and Rafe took the other.

"Pancakes or waffles?" Wheezie asked, already scanning the menu.

"Waffles," Olivine said decisively, and Wheezie shot her a grin.

"I knew you were cool."

Rafe smirked, glancing between the two of them. "You two are starting to gang up on me, and I don't like it."

"Get used to it," Olivine teased, nudging his shoulder lightly.

As the waitress took their orders, Rafe found himself relaxing more than he had in days. Wheezie chattered animatedly about her plans for the summer, while Olivine listened with a warm smile, occasionally glancing over at Rafe to make sure he was still with them.

He caught her eye once, his lips quirking into a faint smile as his hand found hers under the table. She squeezed his fingers gently, a silent reassurance.

For a moment, Rafe allowed himself to believe that this—this laughter, this warmth—was enough to drown out everything else.

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The sun was starting to set, casting a golden hue across Rafe's loft. The two of them were tangled up on his bed, Olivine curled into Rafe's side as they watched an episode of The Vampire Diaries. Or, at least, tried to watch it. Rafe had barely paid attention for the last twenty minutes, more focused on the way Olivine fit so perfectly against him. She wore one of his oversized basketball shirts—an older one, soft from being worn and washed so many times—and it pooled around her frame.

His arm was draped around her, absentmindedly tracing slow patterns along her bare thigh while her head rested on his chest. Every now and then, Olivine would let out a small chuckle at something on-screen, the sound enough to make Rafe's chest feel warm.

"You're not even paying attention," Olivine teased, tilting her head up to look at him.

Rafe blinked, caught, but smirked anyway. "I don't need to. You've told me the plot ten times already."

She swatted his chest lightly. "You asked me to explain it to you, Cameron."

"Yeah, but I didn't ask for the encyclopedia version."

Olivine rolled her eyes but couldn't fight the smile tugging at her lips. "You're impossible."

"And yet here you are," Rafe teased back, pulling her closer so that her face was nearly buried in his neck. He sighed softly, the weight of her so grounding, so different from anything he'd ever felt before.

Olivine settled against him again, her hand tracing light circles over his chest, nails grazing him just enough to make his skin tingle.

It was quiet for a while after that, the soft hum of the TV in the background. Rafe stared up at the ceiling, something heavy lingering in his chest. His thumb brushed absentmindedly along her arm, the weight of her trust in him settling in deeper.

"Olivine?" he murmured, his voice low, almost hesitant.

"Mm?"

He swallowed, tilting his head slightly to look down at her. Her face was so serene, lips parted slightly as her eyes remained focused on her hand.

"I love you," he said softly, the words slipping out before he could overthink them.

Olivine stilled. Her hand paused against his chest, and Rafe felt her entire body tense beside him. His heart thudded, the silence stretching unbearably long.

He ran his hand up and down her arm, trying to soothe her, his voice quiet as he added, "You don't have to say it back. I just— I wanted you to know. After this month... I don't know. You're just—different. You make me feel like... like I don't have to be anything other than me."

Rafe let out a shaky exhale, dropping his head back against the pillow of her breasts. "I just wanted you to know."

The tension in Olivine's shoulders slowly ebbed away, her hand moving again—this time sliding up into his hair. She ran her fingers through the blond strands he hadn't bothered to gel back, and Rafe's eyes fluttered shut at the soothing motion.

"Rafe," she said softly, her voice unsure. "I think... I think I love you, too."

His eyes cracked open, searching her face.

"It's a lot," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's fast, and I don't know if I can say I'm totally in love yet, but..." Her fingers curled into his hair, her gaze soft. "I know it's more than just admiration. Way more. So... I think I love you, too."

Rafe's lips curved into the faintest smile, something raw and vulnerable shining in his blue eyes. He nodded slowly, exhaling like a weight had been lifted off his chest.

"That's enough for me," he murmured, his voice rough around the edges.

His hand slipped underneath the hem of the basketball shirt she wore, palm pressing against the warm skin of her stomach. He let his fingers graze along her ribs, slowly inching up toward her chest before his lips quirked into a teasing smirk. "I'll work on getting you to be in love with me."

Olivine scoffed, arching a brow. "We'll work on it," she corrected, a playful challenge in her voice.

Rafe clicked his tongue, that familiar cocky smile settling on his face. "Fine, we'll work on it."

"Damn right we will," she muttered, and before she could say anything else, Rafe tilted her chin up and kissed her.

It wasn't the usual teasing kiss, or the light pecks they shared throughout the day. It was heated, deep, and raw. His lips moved against hers with intent, his hand splayed across her stomach pulling her closer as her fingers tangled deeper into his hair.

The Vampire Diaries was completely forgotten, the muffled dialogue on the TV drowned out by the sound of their heavy breaths and the way their hearts seemed to beat in sync.

When Rafe finally pulled back, just enough to rest his forehead against hers, he smirked. "Still think I'm impossible?"

Olivine's lips were kiss-swollen as she grinned, breathless. "Completely."

Rafe chuckled, brushing his thumb over her cheek before kissing her again—harder, this time.

And in that moment, tangled up in his bed with her, nothing else mattered.

Olivine wrapped her legs tightly around Rafe's waist, his uninjured hand gripping her thigh to pull her even closer. Their breaths mingled, uneven and desperate, as her fingers slid into his hair, twisting and tugging softly. Rafe groaned at the sensation, low and deep, before rolling his hips against her, pressing himself firmly where she ached for him most.

His lips left hers to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck, nipping and sucking gently at her soft skin. Goosebumps rose in his wake as his fingers traced the curve of her thigh. She caught his hand, guiding it down between them, her silent plea unmistakable. Rafe's fingertips brushed over the lace of her panties, his touch so light it left her squirming.

Pausing, he looked up at her, his lips hovering close. "Are you sure, Olivine?" he murmured, his voice rough and husky. "We can stop—"

"I'm sure," she whispered breathlessly, eyes heavy with want. "I trust you."

Those words spurred him on. Rafe wasted no time, pushing his shorts and boxers off in one swift motion. His fingers slid her panties aside before dipping into her, groaning softly at how ready she already was.

Olivine gasped, her head tipping back as pleasure sparked through her body. Her fingers tangled deeper in his hair, tugging harder when he added a second finger, his movements slow but deliberate. When Rafe sank down further, his bruised lips pressing against her core, her gasp turned into a moan.

"Rafe—" her voice broke off as his tongue flicked skillfully against her, his nose brushing her most sensitive spot.

Rafe's pace quickened, the sounds of her moans only driving him further. Her back arched, thighs trembling around his head as he brought her closer to the edge. His injured hand, undeterred, moved under her shirt to knead her breast, drawing whimpers from her lips.

When her body began to shake, her orgasm just within reach, Rafe pulled back suddenly. Olivine let out a soft whine, tugging him up by the shoulders until he hovered over her, his chin and lips glistening with her slick. He kissed her deeply, their teeth clashing in desperation, before reaching into the drawer by his bed.

The foil packet crinkled as Rafe tore it open, rolling the condom on quickly before settling himself between her legs again. He lined himself up, his gaze meeting hers one last time. Slowly, he pushed inside.

Her breath hitched at the stretch, her hands sliding from his hair to his back, nails digging into his skin. Rafe groaned softly, his hips pressing deeper, unable to hold back. He gave her no time to adjust, setting a slow, deep pace that had her whimpering beneath him.

"You're perfect," he murmured against her lips. "All mine."

Olivine could only moan in response, the sensation of him filling her too much to form words. When Rafe hooked her leg over his shoulder, the angle had her crying out his name.

"Faster, Rafe," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "Please."

His thrusts quickened, his pace relentless as his thumb found her clit, rubbing in slow circles that made her head spin. Rafe's own breath came faster, his movements becoming more desperate as he felt her walls flutter around him.

"You're close," he groaned, his forehead resting against hers. "Let go for me, baby."

Her release crashed over her moments later, her body shaking as waves of pleasure rolled through her. She clung to him, nails biting into his back, her cries muffled against his shoulder. The tight squeeze of her around him was too much. Rafe followed with a low, guttural moan, thrusting one last time before stilling.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The only sounds in the room were their ragged breaths and the faint hum of the air conditioning.

Rafe finally slipped out carefully, discarding the condom before collapsing beside her. He looked down at his stomach, smirking faintly at the mess her pleasure had left on him. Olivine lay sprawled on the bed, her lips parted as she tried to catch her breath.

Rafe leaned over, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Baby, I don't think we're leaving this bed until tomorrow."

Her brows furrowed in confusion before she followed his gaze to the damp sheets and his lower abdomen. Her cheeks flushed as her lips formed a small "oh."

"I'm down for round two," she whispered playfully, reaching for his hand and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

Rafe chuckled lowly, running a hand through his hair before sitting up.

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Not long after, Rafe scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bathroom. He set her carefully on the closed toilet lid before turning the faucet on, letting the tub fill with lukewarm water. Olivine leaned back against the wall, a faint pout on her lips as she watched him.

Rafe shook his head with a smile, tugging the oversized shirt over her head and tossing it into the laundry basket. By the time he turned back, Olivine had already slipped into the tub, the water lapping softly against her skin as she grabbed the bath gel.

"You're impatient," Rafe teased, stepping in behind her.

She grinned, leaning back against his chest as he gathered her hair into a makeshift bun. Lathering the soap in his hands, Rafe spread it gently across her back, his movements unhurried and careful.

After a moment, Olivine turned, reaching for the gel herself. "Your turn."

She scrubbed the sweat from his skin with gentle hands, the vanilla-tobacco scent lingering in the steam-filled air. Rafe watched her, captivated by the softness of her smile as she pushed damp strands of hair from his face.

"You're perfect," he murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to her lips.

Olivine smiled against his mouth, settling against him with her head on his shoulder. Rafe wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer as the water swirled around them.

Her flawless, delicate skin against his rough, callused hands—it was a contrast he couldn't get enough of.

A match made in heaven.

The water had cooled slightly by the time Rafe helped Olivine stand, droplets sliding down her smooth skin. He reached for a towel, wrapping it around her before grabbing one for himself.

"Stay here," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Rafe disappeared into the bedroom, returning a moment later with a fresh shirt and boxers for himself and one of his T-shirts for her—soft and oversized, just the way she liked it. After a moment, she turned to him. "Hey, do you have lotion or something? My skin gets dry after a bath."

Rafe blinked, pushing off the wall with a small nod. "Yeah, hold on." He rummaged through the cabinet under the sink before pulling out a bottle of pure shea butter lotion and setting it on the counter. Then, as if remembering something else, he reached for an unopened roll-on deodorant, placing it beside the lotion.

Olivine raised a brow, clearly amused. "Unopened? You don't trust me with your stuff?"

Rafe shrugged, his lips twitching. "It's not that. I just bought that shit the other day. Lucky timing."

She laughed softly, unscrewing the cap of the lotion and squeezing some into her palm. "Well, I appreciate it." She began spreading the cream along her arms and shoulders, the rich scent of shea butter filling the bathroom. Rafe didn't move, his eyes fixed on her movements as though entranced.

"What?" she teased, looking at him through her lashes. "Never seen a girl put on lotion before?"

Rafe smirked, his voice low and teasing. "Not like this."

Olivine rolled her eyes but couldn't fight the heat rising to her cheeks as she rubbed the cream into her legs. When she finished, she reached for the deodorant, popping the cap off with a soft click.

"I feel like a brand-new person," she said, grinning as she applied it and then handed the container back to Rafe. "Thanks for the amenities, Cameron. You run a five-star operation here."

He chuckled, stepping closer to wrap an arm around her waist, tugging her gently against him. "Anything for you, princess."

Olivine tilted her head up to meet his gaze, her lips curving into a small smile.

She pulled it over her head, the hem brushing her upper thighs, and gave him a small smile as he watched her.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she teased, running her fingers through her damp hair.

Rafe grinned, closing the space between them and hooking a finger under her chin to tilt her face up. "Because you look good in my shirt," he said simply, his voice low and sincere.

Her cheeks flushed slightly, but she rolled her eyes, nudging him gently. "You're so full of yourself."

"And yet, you're still here," Rafe shot back, his hands finding her waist and pulling her against him.

Olivine smirked but didn't argue. Rafe leaned down to kiss her again, this time slow and tender, as if savoring every second. When he finally pulled back, he took her hand and guided her back to the bed. The sheets had been changed—soft, cool linens replacing the damp mess from earlier.

They climbed in together, Rafe settling on his back as Olivine curled against his side, her head resting on his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat filled the quiet room, her hand tracing absent patterns against his skin.

"Do you always do this?" she asked softly after a while, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe tilted his head to look at her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Do what?"

"This." She gestured vaguely, though it was clear what she meant. The soft moments, the gentleness. The lingering kisses and careful hands that felt so unlike the reputation that followed Rafe Cameron everywhere he went.

"No," he admitted quietly, his fingers trailing down her arm. "Not like this."

Olivine glanced up at him, searching his face. His blue eyes were steady, holding hers with a vulnerability she hadn't seen before.

"I don't think I ever wanted to," he added, almost as an afterthought.

Her heart stuttered in her chest, her breath catching. She swallowed, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through her.

"Why me?" she asked, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

Rafe's lips quirked faintly, but there was no humor in his expression—just something deep and unspoken. He didn't answer immediately, instead leaning down to press a lingering kiss to her forehead.

"Because it's you," he murmured simply, as if that was the only explanation he needed.

Olivine didn't push for more. She let herself sink back into him, their bodies entwined as the room fell into a comfortable silence. Rafe's hand absentmindedly rubbed small circles on her back, his touch featherlight, and soothing. Olivine closed her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to bask in the unfamiliar calm. Rafe Cameron—a storm of a man—felt like a quiet refuge in that moment.

Her fingers splayed across his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing, the rhythmic beat of his heart beneath her palm.

"You're quiet," Rafe said softly, his voice breaking the silence.

"Just... thinking," Olivine replied.

"Dangerous habit," he teased, and she couldn't help but let out a small laugh, the sound vibrating against his chest.

"Maybe," she murmured. "But this—whatever this is—it feels... different."

Rafe stilled for a moment, his hand pausing on her back before resuming its gentle motion. He tilted his head to look down at her, brow furrowing slightly. "Different good?"

Olivine propped herself up slightly, resting her chin on his chest as she gazed at him. "Yeah. Good."

Rafe let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, a subtle smile tugging at his lips. "Good."

The simplicity of the exchange made her chest tighten. She wasn't used to feeling this way—light but steady, vulnerable but safe. Rafe, with all his edges and complexities, somehow made her feel like she could breathe.

"You know, you don't have to figure it all out right now," Rafe said after a beat, his thumb brushing over the curve of her shoulder.

Olivine blinked up at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... us." He paused, as if carefully considering his words. "I know it's new. And fast. But we don't have to put a label on it or... whatever. I just want you to be here. With me."

Her stomach flipped at the admission. The sincerity in his voice was undeniable—so different from the boy she'd met at that summer party, the one with the cocky grin and sharp tongue.

"I am here," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his chest.

Rafe's hand slid up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing gently over her lips. "Good. Because I like you here, Liv."

The nickname made her smile, her lips brushing against his thumb as she murmured back, "I like being here."

Rafe smiled—a real, soft smile that reached his eyes—and pulled her up gently, tucking her into his side so her head rested in the crook of his neck.

"Get comfortable, then," he murmured. "You're not going anywhere."

Olivine let out a content sigh as Rafe's arm tightened around her, holding her close as if he was afraid she might slip away. The steady beat of his heart lulled her into a haze, and she barely registered him pressing a soft kiss to her hair.

For a while, there was nothing but the quiet hum of the ceiling fan and the warmth of Rafe's body against hers.

"I mean it, you know," Rafe mumbled after a while, his voice sleep-laced and low.

Olivine blinked up at him, half-drowsy herself. "Mean what?"

"What I said earlier." He looked down at her, blue eyes softer than she'd ever seen them. "About this being different. About you being different."

Her heart did that stupid flutter again, and she smiled faintly, burying her face in the crook of his neck to hide her reaction.

"I think you're different too," she admitted softly.

Rafe's arm around her tightened ever so slightly, his lips brushing her temple one last time.

"Good," he murmured. "Then I guess we're even."

They stayed like that for the rest of the night—tangled up in each other, the lines between them blurred and undefined but unshakably real. Neither of them had all the answers, but for now, they didn't need them.

For now, this was enough.

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KIKI SPEAKS ;
not edited !!

as i said im a retired smut girly-we read and we don't judge!!!!

word count : 4.0k

ENJOY !!
xoxo kiki 💋💋