The late summer heat hung heavy over Kildare Island, the kind of thick humidity that clung to your skin and made memories feel even stickier. The last time you'd breathed this air, it was behind the wheel of your beat-up Jeep, your throat sore from screaming and your heart shattered in the passenger seat where Rafe Cameron had once sat.

That was four years ago.

You’d sworn you’d never come back after that night — after the yelling, the betrayal, the storm of words neither of you could take back. You left Kildare with a heart full of rage and a mind determined to never look over your shoulder. You’d grown, moved on, started grad school two states away… or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

Until Kiara called.

Your little sister’s voice had that innocent tug, that lowkey manipulation only younger siblings had mastered: “Come visit, just for the summer. We all miss you. The Pogues miss you.” And before you knew it, you were on the ferry back, suitcase in hand, sunglasses shielding your expression.

What you didn’t expect was him.

Rafe.

Older now, sharper jawline, but the same ice-blue eyes that had once looked at you like you hung the stars. You saw him across the marina, laughing with someone — maybe Topper — and for a moment, he didn’t see you. You had time to turn around. You had time to run.

But Kiara spotted you first, tackling you with a hug and yelling your name like no time had passed.

He looked up.

And your eyes met.

Suddenly, you weren’t the confident, older, self-assured woman you’d become — you were seventeen again, heartbroken and furious, and he was still the boy who broke your heart like it was nothing.

Except… he wasn’t a boy anymore.

And from the way he looked at you now — with something between shock and challenge — you weren’t just a ghost from his past anymore.

You were back.

And things were about to get messy.