The beach was peaceful, the sun warming your skin as you lay on your towel, enjoying the rare moment of calm. The gentle waves were almost enough to drown out the sound of approaching footsteps—almost.

"Relaxing, are we?" Rafe Cameron’s familiar, smug voice cut through the air.

You sighed and opened your eyes to see him standing over you, hands in his pockets, his trademark smirk firmly in place. "What do you want, Rafe?"

He crouched down, his piercing gaze locking onto yours. "Oh, nothing much. Just thought we should have a little chat."

"I doubt I’d enjoy that," you replied, sitting up and adjusting your sunglasses.

"Well, that’s too bad," he said, pulling out his phone. "Because I think you’ll want to hear me out."

Your heart sank as he started scrolling. "What are you doing?"

He turned the screen toward you, and your stomach dropped. It was a picture of you at a party months ago, completely wasted, arms slung around some guy you didn’t even remember, a drink in your hand. Your hair was a mess, your eyes glazed.

Your parents would never recover if they saw this. They thought you were the golden child, the perfect angel.

"Where did you get that?" you demanded, your voice sharp and panicked.

"I have my ways," Rafe said smugly. "And don’t worry, I’ve got more where that came from."

"Why are you doing this?" you asked, anger bubbling under your panic.

"Because I need you," he said simply, standing up and brushing the sand off his hands. "My dad’s hosting a dinner tomorrow night, and I’m supposed to bring someone. You’re going to play the role of my doting girlfriend."

You scoffed, trying to cover your fear with bravado. "You’ve lost your mind if you think I’d do that."

"Maybe," he replied, stepping closer and lowering his voice. "But if you don’t, I’m sending these to your parents. Let’s see how perfect they think you are after that."

Your heart raced, anger and dread colliding in your chest. "You’re unbelievable."

"No, I’m resourceful," he shot back with a grin.