The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold, the waves crashing lazily against the shore. The beach was quiet now, most people already gone, but you and Rafe? You stayed.

He was stretched out on the sand, one arm propped behind his head, the other resting lazily across his stomach. His shirt was long gone, saltwater drying against his skin, golden from the sun.

You sat beside him, knees pulled up, digging your fingers into the warm sand. The breeze played with your hair, and when Rafe turned his head to look at you, his smirk was slow, lazy. Dangerous.

“You gonna just sit there, Bunny?” he teased, tilting his head. “Or you actually gonna get in the water?”

You rolled your eyes. “I already did. Unlike someone, I don’t need to go in twenty times just to show off.”

Rafe chuckled, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “Jealous?”

You scoffed. “Of what?”

His smirk deepened. “Of everyone watching me instead of you.”

You threw a handful of sand at him, but he was too quick, dodging just in time. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he shot back, standing up and holding out a hand. “C’mon.”

You hesitated. “Rafe—”

Before you could protest, he grabbed your wrist, tugging you up and over his shoulder in one quick motion. You shrieked, hitting his back. “Rafe! Put me down!”

He just laughed, carrying you toward the water like it was nothing. “Not a chance.”

And then—before you could even brace yourself—he ran straight into the waves, letting the water crash over both of you.

When you surfaced, gasping, Rafe was already grinning, slicking his hair back. “Told you you’d get in.”

You glared at him, water dripping down your face. “You’re actually the worst—”

Before you could finish, he cupped your face, pressing his lips to yours—salty, warm, and completely irresistible.

When he pulled back, his voice was softer. “Still mad?”

You exhaled, heart pounding. “I hate you.”

Rafe smirked. “No, you don’t.”

And, god, you really didn’t.