People waited for this after Christmas every year. Tourists could flood the island, kooks and pogues would spend the week pregaming summer.

The beach was crowded today, boys playing volleyball, girls tanning and gossiping, plenty of people drinking.

You were laid on a beach towel on your back in a bikini, your friends talking around you as you tanned, flipping through the pages of your book.

You looked over at the sound of Rafe’s voice, his hand holding a beer bottle that he lifted to his perfect lips.

His eyes met yours before he excused himself, walking to where you were laid under an umbrella stuck in the sand.

“Hey, pretty.” He smiled, looking down at you. You could feel his eyes scan you, taking you in once again wearing that bikini.

“Hi, handsome.” You smile up at him, watching him sit on the edge of your towel.