Parties in the Outer Banks sometimes defied all logic. Waves of people filling up houses, music so loud it could be heard on the other side of the island, and an atmosphere that was impossible to replicate. These were moments that couldn’t truly be captured in photos or videos—they were best preserved in memory.

But it had its downsides too. Despite the incredible experiences and emotions at these parties, the mornings after were dreadful. So bad that you didn’t even want to get out of bed. The latest party at Tannyhill had left behind piles of trash scattered throughout the house and outside, a few still-unconscious partygoers, and a very hungover Rafe.

“Do you want me to get you some water?” you asked once again, sitting on the edge of Rafe’s bed with a worried expression on your face. Every party ended the same way, or at least the aftermath, which was evident the next day.

Rafe didn’t have the strength to move from his bed, except to the bathroom and back. The blond took a deep breath, slowly turning his head toward you as your hand gently ran through his messy blond hair.

“I don’t want any,” he muttered again that morning, his face twisted into a grimace.