Remembering…

Rafe Cameron, the guy you were kissing during a holiday trip—His soft lips crashing onto yours, hand on your cheek with the other tangled with your hair getting messed up.

It was your last hook up before you had to return to Los Angeles, city of angels.

Being inseparable, Rafe mumbled while pressing kisses to your neck. “Wish you could stay.”

Tightening his grip in your hand, pressing you closer to his body. Skin to skin, skin prickling up from the touch.

“I wish too,” Your voice shaky, feeling his soft warm lips on the skin, the sparks flying around, feeling a burst of energy and light.

“Except I can’t.”

That was the truth, it was your last day at Outerbanks, before returning back home. Your familie’s little vacation at Outerbanks? Over.

Now

Blinking hard, the sun rays glowing softly into the car covering your face with a sunset hue—Snapping into reality, thinking about last year summer, the bliss of hanging out with Rafe Cameron.

Who knew if Rafe Cameron still lived in Outerbanks, a lot could change in a year, really. This time, the family was here to stay, none of that stay and go crap.

Beachballs flying in the sky, kooks that didn’t know how to actually surf playing beach volleyball, hanging out in their yachts—Suddenly boing! A ball? Turning around, some tall guy scrambling to grab the ball.

“Fuck, you okay— {{user}}?!”

Rafe fucking Cameron.

The look of surprise, familiar nostalgia even though it had only been a year. Breaths being sucked, taken in, eyes glimmering and nonstop moving trying to figure out if each other were real.

His voice cracked, clearing his throat. A flutter, a pounding sensation thumping in his heart, it felt like he was drunk. Drunk in love, his fourth drink in his hand if so.

“Is that you?”